Connell, Brendan - The Heel
Mitch peddles wampum; tribal trinkets to souvenir shops, tourists and rubes.
He works on a dodgy commission, sometimes legit. Business is alright for an idle existence, which suits his lack of ambition.
The rest of his days and nights are devoted to the restless pursuit of female loins and petals.
In this pulp romp, Connell channels Bukowski, then filters the proceedings through Russ Meyer’s lurid lens.
Situations and descriptions exaggerate into laugh out loud nonsense.
Hardly a masterpiece, but wildly over the top trash.