I am a serious devotee of what is sometimes called Psychotronic Cinema. I am on a constant search for weird, obscure movies the likes of which most people can never conceive existing in the first place, and the weirder and more obscure they are, the more I like them. Mexican masked wresters being superheroes and fighting aliens? You better believe it. Ultra-gory kung fu? Yes please. Nazi sex crime extravaganzas? I’ll take two. Today I’ll be looking at a very special piece of mid-1970s sexploitation flick with a crime-themed plot. Well, there’s a Mob element, but it’s largely obscured by the oversized jiggling fun-bags that are the true stars of the film.
Let’s take a look, shall we?
Meet Crystal (“Chesty” Morgan). Now meet Crystal’s colossal rack (her measurements are 73FF-32-36). Now meet Crystal’s boyfriend, Larry. Crystal would really love for Larry to make her his wife, instead of just his girlfriend, but he keeps delaying. It’s soon a moot point as he’s rubbed out by the Mafia.
Crystal is heartbroken, tears spilling down rosy cheeks on to oversized pleasure-zeppelins. But she’s made up her mind. She has a pretty good idea of who murdered her boyfriend, and she’s going to get revenge. She’s going to kill them with her DEADLY WEAPONS!
Yes, readers, it’s a film about a woman who uses her jumbo jiggly-wigglies to smother gangsters. And they really are large enough 
that this seems feasible. And I’ll be totally honest, that’s how I want to die. I’m going to be upfront here and admit my bias towards this film, as an unabashed lover of very large natural breasts – to the point where I suspect that if I’d met Russ Meyer, he’d have told me to turn it down, and that there is such a thing as too much of a good thing.
The stars of the show are Chesty Morgan’s boobs. Her breasts might actually get slightly more screen-time then her face (which isn’t unattractive in its own right), including a lot of random close-ups of her bosoms, either bared or just barely constrained by an ill-fitting (and usually see-through) top. For a lot of viewers, her chest is oversized to the point where it is no longer attractive; a natural 73FF (yeah, my jaw dropped a little too), well…gravity is a harsh mistress folks, and her nipples are roughly level with her navel. I don’t think this so-called “flaw” deserves some of the harshness I’ve seen it given in print by reviewers ill suited to handle her voluptuousness. I’ve seen Ms. Morgan’s breasts crudely compared to “two sacks half-filled with mashed potatoes” in terms of shape and motion, and that is not, I believe, in any way fair. I’d like to see those reviewers develop Gigantomastia and try to be perky!
Doris Wishman, a woman sometimes referred to as “the female Ed Wood” for her camp aesthetic, directed DEADLY WEAPONS. What strikes me about Wishman is her ruthless pursuit of profit. She made innocent “nudie-cuties” when they were in vogue, she made more sadistic “roughies” when they were in demand, she made a slasher flick when those were at their heyday…basically, she looked at what was trending and could be made cheaply, and with enough sex and/or violence to put asses in theater seats, and made her own. DEADLY WEAPONS is the first of two films she made starring Chesty Morgan’s boobs, the other being DOUBLE AGENT 73.
While DEADLY WEAPONS offers nothing groundbreaking in terms of plot, cinematography (which is atrociously inept, by the way, with the camera frequently out of focus, or pointed into the depths of Morgan’s cleavage, at her knees, the floor, a random phone, etc. during dialogue) or thespianism. All it has to offer is supersized boobs, and that’s enough for me. I’m giving DEADLY WEAPONS (1974) three parachute-sized bras out of a possible five.
Rating: 
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