TOYS ARE NOT FOR CHILDREN is one of those obscure, independent horror films shot in New York back in the day and originally released by Something Weird Video. This one dates from the early 1970s and is another story of abnormal psychology, weird incestuous relationships, and people who haven't grown up properly. Given the subject matter it offers a surprisingly serious approach to the material, avoiding sleaze and exploitation for the most part, although there's a smattering of nudity. The acting is better than expected and the characters quite interesting, although there's not enough story to sustain the running time.

Emotionally stunted child woman Jamie Godard (a solid and touching performance by adorable brunette Marcia Forbes) not only suffers from an unhealthy fixation on her whoring no-count long absent father Philip (well played by Peter Lightstone),but also has an obsession with all the toys her wayward pop gave her as a kid. After getting a job at a toy store, Jamie decides to marry co-worker Charlie Belmond (a sturdy and likable portrayal by Harlan Cary Poe). When the marriage doesn't work out, Jamie runs away to New York City and becomes a prostitute who specializes in servicing perverted old men who like to play daddy with her.

Although the seamy premise sounds like ideal grindhouse fodder, director Stanley H. Brasloff and writer Macs McAree surprisingly deliver very little nudity and no simulated soft-core sex. Instead they tackle such dark and disturbing themes as incest, pedophilia, sexual repression, childhood trauma, kinky fetishism, and arrested adolescent syndrome gone tragically wrong in an unflinchingly stark and head-on confrontational manner. Naturally, this makes for decidedly grim and uncomfortable viewing, but the sordidly engrossing story and alarming array of almost universally miserable, messed-up, and unsympathetic characters give this picture a certain bitterly potent sting (the uncompromising bummer ending in particular packs a devastating downbeat punch). Moreover, the fine acting from the capable cast holds the movie together, with especially praiseworthy contributions from Evelyn Kingsley as brash and worn-out hooker Pearl Valdi, Luis Arroyo as scuzzy pimp Eddie, Fran Warren as Jamie's shrewish mother Edna, Tiberia Mitri as the frail and vulnerable little girl incarnation of Jamie, and N.J. Osrag as jolly toy store owner Max Geunther. Rolph Laube's competent cinematography and the brooding score by Cathy Lynn and Jacques Urbont are both up to par. Beautifully haunting theme song, too. An unusual and interesting little curio.

Nineteen going on twenty, Jamie Godard (Marcia Forbes) has issues. When she was a little girl, her father doted on her, but his liking for prostitutes saw him thrown out of the house, leaving Jamie longing for dear daddy while her bitter mother told her that all men are worthless. Jamie's love for her father leads to an unhealthy obsession with the toys that he sends her, and a curiosity about the women of the night with whom daddy associates.

When Jamie strikes up a friendship with working girl Pearl (Evelyn Kingsley),her mother throws her out, and so she goes and gets hitched to her toy-store co-worker Charlie Belmond (Harlan Cary Poe),who is keen to get his tasty young bride in the sack. Unfortunately for Charlie, Jamie has no interest in him sexually, preferring the company of her toys in bed. Understandably frustrated, Charlie hits the local night spots to pick up women who will take care of his needs. Eventually, Jamie moves in with Pearl and her pimp Eddie (a wonderfully slimy performance from Luis Arroyo),changes her look and decides to sell her body, just like the ladies that daddy loves so much - a career choice that indulges her incestuous fantasies, but ultimately leads to tragedy.

Wow! This is one of those totally messed up '70s gems that makes being a fan of obscure cult cinematic oddities such fun. Oozing perversity without being excessively sleazy (nudity is kept to a minimum),it trundles along its increasingly twisted path, benefitting from a winning central performance from the delectable Miss Forbes in her one and only movie role. Writer/director Stanley H. Brassloff's restraint only goes to make the shocking final act all the more impactful.

For those who like their movies to explore taboo themes and possess an emotional wallop, this is highly recommended viewing, and would make a terrific double bill with the equally perverse Love Me Deadly (1972),which deals with the uncomfortable subject of necrophilia.