Mike Kuchar Movies

A series of vignettes illustrating sexual fantasies.

Big…Rousing…Memorable! The incredible war saga of our own boys in a Jap-infested jungle in the Botanical Gardens. Hear Lloyd Thorner...

An insane, deformed killer stalks the grounds of a resort house, bringing sudden violence to those of easy virtue and godlessness.

Lost film featuring vignettes of individual couples in a bathtub

An early masterpiece by Mike Kuchar, in which Babette tells all, leaving no turgid stone unturned.

This movie was made mostly in Brooklyn during some very hot and empty evenings. Since the evenings were so empty, Jane Elford, the star, urged me to...

A ritualistic mood piece with colour-rich images

Looney thespians run amok in a classroom.

Writes Kuchar: "It's New York in the summer and I set out to track down some high school friends who have burrowed deep into the 'big apple.' The...

“I shall walk softly on the Earth but make the footprints deep”. A young man contemplates the inevitable passing of time, and the...

"...Deep in the garden of the Artist's heart, ghosts of bygone worlds arise on gothic wings, calling forth delicious languors."

A vain, self centered mother competes with her daughter in the world of carnivorous men and sleazy movies.

An evocative 16mm short shot during a visit to Nepal.

He is mute flesh that the stroking of fingers can bring to sing.

This breezy and flamboyant essay about an afternoon rendezvous is pure candy for the eyes.

Waiting to die and waiting to live is the same thing to him that chants: "Let me not be mad... let me not be MAD... LET ME NOT BE MAD!"

Sort of a portrait of the videomaker Anne McQuire, who surfaces midway from this waterlogged landscape of El Nino disasters to dispense charm and...

Masked men prowling in the bushes and not touching anything but satin, dandelions and flesh.

A sensitive soul with skin receptive to the World's natural elements and who has a mind open for expansive contemplation, embarks on an "inner...

Offer a pagan god only simple flowers of spring and the sparkling diamonds and opals of morning dew strung on the threads of the spider... and fear...