The Party at Kitty and Stud's (1970)

What makes The Party at Kitty and Stud’s worth your time isn’t that it’s a “great” film in the traditional sense—it’s that it’s a fascinating little time capsule, a slice of 1970s grindhouse culture that plays today with the oddball charm of a found artifact. The real hook is seeing a very young Sylvester Stallone before the myth, anchoring a sweaty, rough-edged vibe that’s part melodrama, part unintentional comedy, and all attitude. If you have a taste for camp and the kind of low-budget audacity that turns awkward moments into laughs, it can be surprisingly entertaining in that “I can’t believe this exists” way. It’s definitely not for viewers who want subtlety or polish, but for the curious, it’s a novelty watch that delivers exactly the kind of cult curiosity its reputation promises.

The Party at Kitty and Stud’s is clearly aiming for a loose, anything-goes snapshot of a sexually liberated scene, with a bit of sleaze-comedy and drama thrown in. The problem is it feels more like a bargain-bin loop of repetitive encounters than an actual movie: the production is rough, the “story” is basically nonexistent, and the erotic material is oddly flat and mechanical. If you’re expecting wit, character, or even competent exploitation filmmaking, this will likely feel cheap and painfully dull rather than provocative. The only real selling point is curiosity value as an early Sylvester Stallone oddity, best approached as a historical footnote, not entertainment.