Starring Chesty Morgan and her giant boobs
“Flowers are pretty, aren't they?”
Chesty Morgan was a Polish immigrant with a hair-raising, hard-luck story. Orphaned at a young age, she arrived in the US at the start of World War II. She later married a wealthy American, but when he died during a robbery, she took to exotic dancing to pay the bills.
Her mammoth breasts – surely some perversion of nature – measured a whopping 73FF, the largest natural breasts on record, at least during her heyday. A big draw on the topless dancing circuit for decades, it was only natural that some enterprising filmmaker would want to capture this fleshy phenomenon on celluloid. Luckily – or unluckily, depending on who you ask – that someone was the great Doris Wishman, already a legend for her run of nudie-cutie films in the 50’s and 60’s, and well into her roughie/sexploitation phase when she crossed paths with Chesty. They made two films together and, despite the raging ineptitude they both flaunt, both Deadly Weapons and Double Agent 73 remain staples in every sleaze-beast’s diet.
During the credits, Chesty takes photos of things with her boobs. She does this by lifting one of them up. It’s a hefty mound of chest-fat that normally hangs from her body like a tortured rubber sack. Opening with the money shot is a strange way to go about things, but Doris clearly assumes that we, the viewers, will be delighted to see this unholy udders again and again. Sadly, she is mistaken. And we still have 72 minutes to go.
The story begins. Exterior house: Camera zooms in, camera zooms out. No reason. Inside: Two guys, one with a crazy birthmark on his face, play cards. Some other dude roots around the joint. The fellas find him, bust him in the head, and then run him over in their car. Somebody finds him while he dies on somebody’s lawn and he tells them it was some guy named Topler. And also that he had a scar on his face. And then he dies.
Cut to: nudist camp. Naked people playing volleyball. Somebody throws grass on a dog. Chesty is Jane, and Jane has on a crazy outfit, which includes giant shoes, a too-small bra, and pantyhose. This is while she’s sunbathing. But then her vacation gets cut short by a telephone call. It’s her boss – he’s got a new mission for her. She heads to New York and gets her assignment. She must topple heroin kingpin Topler! To do this, she must take photos of all his associates. Why? Because one of them is him, and they don’t know which one. Well, except that they know he’s the one with the scar. By the way, Chesty’s dialogue was overdubbed because her accent was too thick. Which is a bummer, because this movie would be ten times as awesome is she had an impenetrable eastern European accent.
Anyway, because it would be way too simple for her to find the scarred guy and then kill him – or, even going with the cockamamie plan, just bring along a tiny spy camera – they implant a camera in her boob.
I know what you’re thinking – now she’s going to have to take her shirt off every time she wants to take a photo. Bingo! See how that works?
Also, turns out the nurse at the hospital (actually somebody’s bedroom) is a double agent, so Jane has to choke her to death with a telephone wire! And then she takes her picture!
So then she goes to a hotel and beats a guy with her boobs. And the some dude kidnaps her, and then lets her go. She puts on her lipstick first, though. Lipstick, at a time like this?
She splits, and he plans on shooting her as she wobbles away, but she leaves her lipstick in the seat, and his car blows up! Then Igor – AKA Topler – finds out Jane’s in town, and orders a hit on her.
Meanwhile, she wanders around town in weird bell-bottoms finding clues while her friend – in town visiting – gets stabbed to death in the shower, because the hitman thinks it’s Jane.
Jane comes home, finds her friend dead, and then shakes her head and looks at her watch.
Ivan finds out the guy killed the wrong girl, and he’s pissed. The guy goes back to kill her – but she’s ready for him. She gasses him with a magic tea kettle, and then chokes him to death with ice cubes! And then she takes his picture. Then the agent dude calls her for a date. She’s pretty siked. She wears a hideous outfit, but it seems to go ok. They even smooch on the couch. So that was nice for her.
Suddenly she’s somewhere else entirely. The house has leopard skin wallpaper and there’s zebra striped sheets. Some guy walks in and she kills him by throwing her earring at him. It stabs him in the neck and kills him.
Almost every guy in the movie has a bad haircut and a mustache, which makes it difficult to follow who’s who. The chief mentions something about a race. So I guess we’re going to the races. And then the agent calls somebody and says he’s falling for Jane. So then Agent Mustache shows up at the race track in a denim ensemble, including a jaunty hat. Doris can’t afford to shoot inside the racetrack, so she just inserts stock footage while Agent Denim loiters in the parking lot, smoking a cigarette.
It’s all for nothing, though. She’s not at the racetrack, she’s at some dentists house, wearing a clown outfit.
She hides in the shower and karate-chops and chloroforms the dentist’s girlfriend. Then she rubs salve of some kind on her boobs.
Naturally the dentist – who cannot tell Chesty’s gargantuan melons from his girlfriend’s more reasonable breasts, proceeds to slobber on ‘em once Jane enters the room. She’s boob-poisoned him!
Then Ivan finds her and ties her up! He spits in his eye, so he punches her in the face!
And then Gerta, the dentist’s girlfriend shows up, and slaps her around some more.
Strangely, Ivan’s boss, Topler, AKA Mr. T, tells him to let her go. But why? We may never know, because Kjane takes a busted bottle and rakes Ivan’s face with it! And then she splits.
Meanwhile, Jane’s boss tells his crony some bad news…the camera in her boob is set to explode! Will they be able to remove it in time? And did she get the elusive Toppler?
Yes and no. Surprise ending!
There is really no way around it – Double Agent 73 is a terrible movie. But it’s terrible in many unique and captivating ways. From Chesty’s eye-scorching bell-bottom ensembles to her droopy mega-boobs to her dead-eyed stare, Miss Morgan is a revelation, less an actress than a suicidally depressed sideshow attraction.
Together with Doris’s penchant for nausea-inducting camerawork and her knack for ugly-ing up every set she uses with gaudy knick-knacks and clashing patterns, these two cinematic juggernauts have achieved the near-impossible: they’ve created a sexploitation film that can put you off of sex for a month.
PS: Doris kept making movies until her 90’s. Death is pretty much the only thing that stopped her. Chesty Morgan is alive and well and living in Florida. She owns her own apartment building and makes lemon pies and watches Fox News a lot.
- Ken McIntyre