A bunch of nymphomaniacs gather to help each other out with their sex addiction. (They all wear Zorro masks to keep everything “anonymous”.) Luckily for the audience, when I say “help each other with their sex addiction” that means that when a woman is horny, the “Federation” sends over a couple of studs to her house to fuck her.
This is the kind of self-help that even Dr. Phil could get behind.
One bored housewife gets tired of fucking bill collectors, vacuum cleaner salesmen, and psychiatrists, so she joins Nymphs Anonymous and gets two studs sent to her every hour on the hour. When her husband comes home, he gets so jealous that he camps outside the house and Charles Whitmans all the studs to death.
Nymphs Anonymous is the kind of flick that I would’ve loved as a thirteen year-old. It’s got lots of nudity, some bizarre black humor and a nutty plot. I’m older now and my tastes are a little more refined, but Nymphs Anonymous still kinda made me feel like I was thirteen again. The main thing the movie has going for it is the scads of naked women. A lot of the girls have impressive chests and don’t mind showing them off. The main chick kinda looks like Jennifer Jason Leigh in an Elvira wig and even though she keeps her clothes on (and reads from her script), she’s still pretty hot.
On the downside though, Nymphs Anonymous runs on much longer than it really needed to. 87 minutes is quite an epic length for a nudie movie from the 60’s and for most of it’s running time, the film simply just runs around in circles. It’s not bad or anything, it’s just the flick could’ve been a lot tighter. As it is, the pacing is as loose as the Nymphs themselves.