It is a million years in the future, and the past twenty thousand of those have been spent cultivating the Fleshapoids, robots who resemble people but cater to the humans' every whim. Those humans now have an existence dedicated purely for pleasure, eating, making love, trying on clothes and other pursuits turned decadent by their overindulgence in everthing that makes them happy, to the extent that their lives are jaded to an extreme degree, taking the Fleshapoids for granted...
This was the twin filmmaking brothers George Kuchar and Mike Kuchar's spoof of the then-recent Creation of the Humanoids, a film that had also impressed another cult moviemaker whose output was not for the casual viewer: Andy Warhol. The Kuchars were committed to creating their idea of camp, a concept that was becoming fashionable partly thanks to often gay underground artists like them, and partly due to Hollywood churning out productions which the only reaction was not sincere enjoyment, but an arch distance that could prompt laughter or indulgent disdain - or both.
Not that the Kuchars felt much disdain for the melodrama and trash culture they had grown up with and which influenced their work, indeed they positively loved it, and pretty much all their output was a tribute, however shaded or twisted, to those works. So it was that Sins of the Fleshapoids represented for many the purest expression of their methods, with its ultra-low budget stylings not allowing their ambitions to hold them back. Why not reimagine a sci-fi movie, taking its concerns about modern "slavery" and translating them into a different kind of concern? For the uninitiated, you could find very little to entertain, reason enough.
But for those tuned into the Kuchars' broadcasts from some netherworld of their own devising, this example was just short enough not to wear out its welcome, and artificial enough to speak to something primal about popular diversions, whether in experimental films or the mainstream. This was as much a commentary on the latter as it was a part of the former, so we had the lead Fleshapoid, Xar (Bob Cowan), turn on his mistress who orders him about one time too often. We didn't hear any of the dialogue, this having been recorded without sound, but Cowan provided overheated narration, and speech bubbles solved the chit-chat issues.
As if realising the story of Xar was not enough for the whole movie, brief as it was, there was another narrative intertwined where a princess (Donna Kerness) plans to run off with her lover (George played her husband the prince), only to find he's only after her money. This was essentially more of an excuse for the cast to lounge around in not very many clothes, as in another storyline about Xar and his Fleshapoid partner Melenka (Maren Thomas) ponder their next move, which turns out to be parenthood as they illustrate their kind have the chance to inherit the Earth from the useless, increasingly obsolete humans. None of this was to be taken seriously for a second, yet in a way it was as the Kuchars and their improvisation on slender means had complete faith in their material, and the movies they loved to pay tribute to.
