It's a rare case that the "alternate" title of a film is even more fitting than its original name. Usually, the "replacement" titles are completely unrelated to the original films' themes or even characters. Argento's "Tenebrae" was saddled with the thoroughly awful American release title of "Unsane." In Malaysia, "Hellboy" was de-demonized into "Super Sapiens." Bob Clark's "Dead of Night" was renamed to the inexplicable "Deathdream."

Well, I can finally say that there's a movie whose stateside re-release title seems a much better fit for it. Known in the UK as "Secrets of Sex," (the title this print bears in its opening credits) over here it's known simply as...Bizarre. To be honest, I couldn't agree more.

Why? It's simple: the movie truly is bizarre. Don't get me wrong, "The Secrets of Sex" is not false advertising. No, if you're picking up this movie expecting plenty of raincoat-worthy moments, then you certainly won't be disappointed. True, the tits may be getting slathered in rotten tomatoes, and the ass may be getting smacked with a telephone receiver, but this movie is quite randy.

However, at the same time, it doesn't quite come across as particularly erotic. It doesn't help that many of these women are almost as skanky as those featured in HGL's infamous "Gore Gore Girls," with dumpy bodies, unkempt pubic regions, and drooping breasts, but even scenes meant to potentially titillate are just so damn weird that any eroticism is dashed against the sharp stones of peculiarity. "Imagine yourself making love to this girl," the baritone Mummy implores (voiced by the smooth-talking Valentine Dyall), as a beautiful woman builds a house of cards whilst topless. "Imagine yourself making love to this boy," he continues, referring to a fit young man cleaning his Tommy Gun. His line of questioning continues, with images of young men and women tumbling in haylofts, reading books, and engaging in other random acts.

Then, he draws us into the meat of the film, the short anthology pieces. Ranging from oddly creepy to delightfully absurd to thoroughly awful, no film runs longer than ten minutes. In ninety minutes, we bear witness to a Spanish Horse (look it up in an encyclopedia, it's nasty), a man sleeping with his attempted burglar, a deformed infant, a woman who traps the souls of her lovers in plants, a pangolin in the bedroom (actually a monitor lizard, but who's keeping track?), secret agents, and much, much more.

Which leads to the biggest problem with the movie: these shorts are too short. There's almost no time to develop any sort of conflict or character, and often times they simply end, without any sort of payoff. We're often thrust headlong into these stories, leaving with the same lack of understanding, or even caring, as when we first entered. Even the "twists" are lame, being either utterly predictable, or so completely out of left field that the viewer feels cheated.

But for some reason, I couldn't stop watching. Even though I found myself scoffing at its ineptitude, I kept on going. Maybe it was the beautifully oversaturated Eastmancolor print, or the bad acting, or the completely unrelated scenes cut in with the rest of the film that were just so damn weird that you laughed (how does a glove factory represent childbirth?). It truly was Bizarre.

Even more Bizarre is the ridiculous amount of care that obviously went into the release that Synapse has given us. The aforementioned Eastmancolor print was remastered with all of its ridiculous colors intact, and even the print damage and grain, while prevalent, seemed almost part of the trashy charm of this movie. Audio was a clean mono mix (yay for keeping soundtracks intact!), which was clear, although tinny.

Now let's talk extras, because that's where this release really shines. First we're given a full-length audio commentary by producer Richard Gordon (yes, that Richard Gordon) and film historian Tom Weaver. Second, there's very amusing interview with co-writer Elliot Stein (who also played the mummy's body which lent a form to Dyall). Third, we're given some extensive liner notes. Last, but oh-most-definitely not least, you get to get even more weirded out by two short films, "Towers Open Fire," and "The Cut-Ups," directed by Antony Balch and written by William S. Burroughs. Yes, William S. Burroughs, and let me tell you, you thought Naked Lunch was nutty? You ain't seen nothing yet! Of course, sharing a disc with Bizarre, they're right at home.