SCHOOLGIRL REPORT # 1: WHAT PARENTS DON’T THINK IS POSSIBLE (1970)
Director: Ernst Hofbauer
Impulse Pictures

Masquerading as educational docudramas centering on the sexual exploits of teenage girls, the West German softcore "Schoolgirl Report" (or “Schulmadchen Report”) films were reportedly seen by millions of people all around the world. Based on books written by Guenther Hunold, producer Wolf C. Hartwig and frequent director Ernst Hofbauer pushed the envelope by exploring themes of adolescent sex, resulting in a series of 13 films spread over a decade. Here, a mix of kinky acted vignettes are interspersed with a reporter throwing bold questions to obliging young women on the street, a format which would give the first few films their own identity and try to justify their questionable execution. Not surprisingly, a good number of Schoolgirl entries were shown in grindhouses and drive-ins in the U.S. in retitled and dubbed form, starting with this initial 1970 outing, shown here as simply, “The Schoolgirls.”

A bus full of female teenagers arrives at a power plant for a field trip tour. One of the girls stays behind, being more interested in the studly bus driver. Her seduction of him leads to their shagging in the back of the vehicle, but they are soon caught by the prissy teacher. Not knowing if this misbehaving 18-year-old should be expelled, sent to another school, or just forgiven, a committee board of teachers and parents is organized to come to an agreeable solution. One freethinking psychologist, Dr. Bernauer (Günther Kieslich), intervenes, theorizing that the girl’s case is not exclusive, as he gives further examples of similar teens exploring their lustful urges.

A number of stories concerning various sexual encounters among the schoolgirls unfold, some of them more interesting than the others, and all of them displaying ample amounts of female flesh: a scantily clad blonde toys with a astute priest in a confession booth, a 20-something pool attendant is seduced by two underage skinny-dippers, an underdeveloped teen is caught pleasuring herself by her insensitive mother, a girl’s first sexual experience is a major disappointment due to her partner’s abruptness, etc. In between all the spicy shenanigans is ballsy man-on-the-street reporter (Friedrich von Thun) who interrogates non-actresses on everything from masturbation to sex before marriage. The real views of liberated German women brings quite a few amusing moments; when he asks one frizzy-haired Fräulein (she resembles 1970s rock star Marc Bolan) why it’s been weeks since she’s had sex, she replies, “I got the clap.”

Some of the episodic bits on display seem a bit drawn out for their own good, but it’s an 84-minute exploitation time capsule that’s hard to resist. The 1970s was an exceptional, colorful era of unconfined cinema, and this slice of Euro sexploitation, packed with mod fashions, gorgeous babes with (thankfully) too little clothes and too much eye make-up is wonderfully dated. Another essential ingredient to the overall appeal is Gert Wilden’s perversely upbeat score, a groovy jazz/pop mélange which was the subject of a highly recommended CD release: “Schoolgirl Report & Other Music From Sexy German Films (1968-1972).” The Schoolgirl films actually improve in terms of sheer outrageousness with the second and third entries, so hopefully their Stateside DVD releases are right around the corner.

Impulse Pictures presents SCHOOLGIRL REPORT #1 in an uncut anamorphic transfer, letterboxed at 1.66:1. Aside from some minor muting during optical scenes and occasional film dirt, colors look vivid and the image is very clean. The opening credits are shown windowboxed, and even though they occasionally cut off text on both sides, the framing throughout the rest of the film looks uniform. The original German language track is included with optional English subtitles. It’s too bad the dialogue from the dubbed U.S. version (which had its contents altered) was not included since it would be nice to again hear those actors faking the exaggerated German accents! (George R. Reis)

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