Ed Wood was in a pretty sorry state by the time The Love Feast came around. He was an alcoholic and his Errol Flynn-like looks had been eradicated by years of over-indulgence.

Love Feast sees Ed as Mr Murphy, a priapistic photographer who shares with the viewer his technique of getting women in the sack. It simply involves phoning a modelling agency and getting eager young models over to his place and getting them to disrobe before seducing them into his boudoir.

Soon Ed realises that he has been sent over more crumpet than even HE can handle and eventually reinforcements arrive in the shape of a cab driver and a couple of plumbers (which is appropriate for this movie, really) and they join in the fun on Ed's bed, which is now a seething mass of arms & legs.

Despite the fact that there are numerous open-crotch shots during the movie, there is a remarkably childish attitude towards sex and the treatment of women in general.

Ed finally cracks and is seen in women's underwear (must have taken some persuading to get him to do that...) and needless to say that by the end of the movie, he doesn't get his end away.

Ed Wood was clearly in poor health and the watching him in the movie makes you feel very sorry for him - it looks like he was being exploited by giving him plenty of booze on camera.

The cinematography is simply atrocious - the worst kind of "point-and-prey" film-making - the copious amount of nudity is not erotic in the slightest, with no make-up to disguise the numerous bruises on the women involved.

Love Feast is the kind of movie that Ed Wood was probably grateful that he didn't direct - it is simply ghastly and tragic to see Ed sing for his supper during his twilight years. It was a pity that all copies weren't destroyed. OK, Ed Wood wasn't a great director, but we can think of other people more deserving of the "Worst Director Of All Time" accolade.

Director (and war buddy of Ed Wood) Joseph F Robertson said that Ed Wood "made slop pictures" - there are worse words to describe Love Feast, but they can't be printed on here...

Absolute garbage. Avoid like Black Death.

"The Love Feast" serves as proof that the presence of Ed Wood in any film project was a guarantee of failure. Even in the relatively undemanding genre of soft-core pornography, where such Wood trademarks as bizarre dialogue, improbable plotting, and awful acting are par for the course, this is a certifiable stinker. Despite the film's theme, and the near-constant full-frontal nudity, there is nothing erotic, or even remotely arousing, in this film. And that's not just my opinion- I watched this film with a group of five people, representing both of the major genders and various sexual orientations, and we all agreed that it was a strong contender for the least arousing pornographic film in existence. There's not much more to say about this film, except that after it was over I felt sorry for Ed Wood. Even someone as talentless as he was shouldn't have to work on such a miserable project.

Some Ed Wood fans are convinced that he directed "THE LOVE FEAST", even though the film's credits blame Joe Robertson for this atrocity. Given Ed Wood's sickly and inebriated appearance in this travesty, I feel it's much more likely that Robertson directed it, and Ed just embarrassed himself by acting in it. As the film progresses, Ed acts more and more sexually exhausted, even though no one in the orgy scene actually appears to be getting LAID! Everyone's just rolling around on top of each other, giggling and smiling mindlessly, and the whole sordid tableau just goes on WAY too long! Ed leaves the orgy room several times during the course of the film to wolf down some alcoholic beverages on screen, giving the Ed Wood aficionado what may be the only surviving cinematic reenactment of what was reportedly a common occurrence at the Wood homestead during his latter years. The thought even occurred to me that the booze he's putting away on screen may have been his entire compensation for appearing in this horror-show. I wish I could erase the memory of his sagging man-boobs and flabby buttocks from my brain, but I'm sure the awful sight will pop up in a future nightmare. I almost wish I could've burst onto the set while this film was being made, grabbed the poor sot by the hair and screamed "Ed, what the HELL are you doing? Put your clothes on and let's get out of here. I'll buy you a bottle on the way home!"