Along with the top-heavy Chesty Morgan pictures, Nude on the Moon is among the best-known features of cult director Doris Wishman's long, prolific career. One of eight nudist camp features that Wishman produced during the Kennedy years, it has ensured itself a camp following with its cockeyed vision of the lunar surface as a subtropical paradise (actually the Coral Castle in Homestead, FL). A cast of sweet, young topless girls with goofy antennae sprouting from their heads seals the deal. If not Wishman's best work, Nude on the Moon is certainly her most accessible, lacking the raw sexuality and crude violence of her later, more explicit films. Instead, the innocent vibe launders each bared bosom, leaving no hint of eros. The bargain-basement sci-fi effects, which are implied more than seen, are the perfect complement, and no one gets away without a ridiculous outfit. The film's first act drags as the two scientists drone on in their laboratory-spouting dialogue that reads as if copied word for word from some high-school science text. Once they take off (thanks to NASA stock footage), the action begins, and viewers witness the healthy lifestyle enjoyed by the curvaceous ladies and muscle-bound men of the moon. It's typical nudist camp territory, with volleyball, laughing children, and awkward posing in the sun, but those antennae make it a Doris Wishman film, with all of the fractured logic that her admirers have come to expect. Charming and bubble-headed, Nude on the Moon is a good-natured fantasy for bawdy kitsch lovers.