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One of the strangest of the 1960s exploitation roughies, this film from Michael Findlay and Roberta Findlay (the creators of Snuff) is half sleaze and half performance art. The poems of Pierre Lourys are read by a pair of narrators whose pretentious ramblings underscore the entire film. Our "hero" is alcoholic Jason (Kevin Sullivan) who lives in a squalid Bowery apartment and is obsessed with his neighbor Elaine (Findlay) across the alley. The narrator says Elaine's skin is "made of man's disillusionment." If that is the case, man's disillusionment must have a lot of goosebumps and cellulite. She takes a shower, sits on a wooden stick, and has a lesbian scene as the narrators rave on about her "tomb of flesh." Jason tries to score some liquor from a gay man named Louis, who wants sex in return. Jason kicks Louis repeatedly, then beats him to death with a club. The insane Jason takes a knife over to Elaine's apartment, thinking it's a bunch of flowers. The next scenes alternate his fantasy of making love with a willing Elaine with the horrible reality. Jason rapes Elaine, ties her up, then stabs her to death, imagining that he is scattering rose petals on her body. Finally, he makes love to her corpse while the narrators read more morbid poetry. This is a bizarre, ugly film which still offers some unusual moments for Findlays' fans and brave curiosity-seekers.