First, take a deep breath. Now imagine a future where women are so fed up with the violent nature of men that they banish all men to penal colonies on distant planets. Having no men around sex is banned as a disgusting and draconian practice. It has since been replaced with machine assisted reproduction. You may laugh but now that the satanic, pedophile, socialist, democrats have stolen the election it’s probably just around the corner! #QAnon! #stopthevote #startthevote #stopitagain
You may want to take a second deep breath. Now imagine that the USS Enterprise’s transporters malfunctioned and beamed Kirk, Spock, and Bones to Oz. Also imagine that in the process the men were turned into women with spandex blazers, G-strings, and giant new wave haircuts from the ’80s.
Summing up, we have the Wizard of Oz, Star Trek, and New Wave style pornography all blended together like a smoothy no one ever wanted. This is the starting point for John Gold’s 1985 mess, The Wizard of Ahhs.
Our three intrepid space explorers find themselves beamed to a planet covered in ivy and vines. The she-Spock turns to the she-Captain Kirk and conveys the readings off her tricorder. Surrounded by greenery she reports “There’s no form of life within 70 kilometers of this spot.” Perhaps she is a little disoriented by all the hairspray and eyeliner.
Suddenly the ladies are confronted by the infamous disembodied head of Oz. He’s not looking too good these days. I would assume that ever since the man behind the curtain left, it’s been a downward spiral of booze and pills. See illustration below.
Oz advocates for bringing the patriarchy back. He tries to convince the ladies that they are missing out on passion and sex, but the ladies remain unconvinced. You know how stubborn those feminists can be. Oz bellows “You Ginger, think you wouldn’t! You April, think you couldn’t! You, Jill, think you shouldn’t!” And so as if the premise isn’t convoluted enough Oz decides to send the ladies through space and time to late-twentieth-century earth to be surrogates for a sex therapist.
To prepare them for all the sex they are going to have the doctor introduces them to his nurse. The nurse is very sweet and motherly. With a lot of supportive encouragement, she has her way with all of the young ladies. It’s like watching people have sex with a very cheerful kindergarten teacher.
Then comes the parade of clients who supposedly have some kind of sexual dysfunction but seem more than capable of getting down to business. The doctor warns the ladies that some of the clients might get “kinky” but no one does, unless you consider having sex with a really severe sunburn kinky.
It’s too bad, the movie might have benefited from everyone having to wear diapers and dog colors, but unfortunately, the rest of the movie is just your ordinary twosomes, threesomes, and foursomes as you would expect in a sex therapist’s office.
Of course, in the end, the misguided women are made to realize the error of their ways. There’s nothing that a good cum shot to the face can’t cure, and so the universe is back in balance as the women plot a new course for the all-male penal colony.
One last thing, it would be grossly irresponsible of me to not warn you. There is something else that goes by the title The Wizard of Ahh’s. God forbid you should read this article, put the title into Google and innocently click on a video by the a capella horror known as the Pentatonix. I watched it and I will have to deal with that for the rest of my life.
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