Bite Size: The Babysitter (1969)

The Babysitter is a bottom of the bill Crown International cheapie that has all of the negligible production value of a sexed up, mid tier soap opera from the same period. A dash of morality melodrama keeps the threadbare story from falling apart at the seams. If it weren’t for the constant shoehorning of timely slang and fashions I would’ve assumed this film had sat on a shelf somewhere for at least half a decade before its 1969 release date.

George Maxwell (George E. Carey) is an assistant district attorney, about to prosecute a member of a 1 percenter style biker gang for murder. He’s moving up in the ranks at the office, has a brand new baby at home, and his wife Edith (Anne Bellamy) prefers they keep a rather busy social calendar. Enter Candy Wilson (Patricia Wymer), the pretty blonde babysitter they hire to keep an eye on the infant.

Candy overhears the Maxwells arguing, and quickly catches on that George is lonely and mostly sexless. What starts as George giving her a ride home quickly blossoms into a full on May-December affair. Between his torrid tangles with Candy and his daughter’s lesbianism, George soon finds himself being blackmailed by the girlfriend (Kathy Williams) of the biker he’s about to put on trial.

Leading man George E. Carey also co wrote the script and produced the film, and you’d be hard pressed to find a bigger Mary Sue than George Maxwell in all of the vanity projects in exploitation cinema. No matter how many selfish things he does, our sympathy is always supposed to lie with him as a hero in this epic of male fantasy wish fulfillment.

Candy isn’t so much a human being as she is a manic pixie flower child. Her entire personality is constructed out of out of touch adult assumptions of what those free loving hippie chicks must be like. Immediately after the baby has gone to bed, she throws a wild houseparty in the Maxwells’ basement, complete with a full band and some friends to do naked go go dancing to the groovy tunes. Her apology is full of love for the music, man.


The car ride home is full of encouragement for George to let go and just be free to LAUGH and THINK and FEEL. They stop at a roadside stand and eat tacos while holding them horizontally (cue double entendre rimshot noise). Candy attempts to seduce George within maybe 5 minutes, fully hot and bothered by his hangdog air and constant complaints about his cold bitch of a wife. Wyler is actually well cast for the role, but there isn’t an actress on the planet that could make Candy read as anything other than a wet dream.

After Candy is introduced and Maxwell’s daughter establishes her lesbianism with some softcore by the pool, its 55 minutes into a 75 minute runtime before we hear another peep out of the plot. In the meantime, there are lot of montages of (softcore) fucking and frolicking as George falls into lust with the high spirited Candy. She teaches the old man the new dances at a nightclub. They roll around in the park. Candy lovingly caresses George’s crows feet in between rounds of clandestine sex, while a knock off Mamas and The Papas theme song plays (apparently supplied by impossible to Google local band The Food). She really digs this man. He really turns her on, and several other bits of slang that were dated even when the film was first released.

All good things must come to an end, and George finally cuts Candy off when the movie remembers the whole blackmail angle an hour later. Jilted but still full of whimsy and wonder, Candy grabs two toughs and gets the blackmailer to destroy the negatives of the photos, in an attempt to still stand by her former old man.

Not that any of it matters. When the pictures are discovered, George’s wife tearfully apologizes for her expectation he have friends and lovers his own age, rather than someone as young as his collegiate daughter. As for George’s boss? He laughs, asks how the sex was and keeps a photo for creepy spank bank posterity.

Boys will be boys, as the credits roll. The middle aged raincoat crowd had to wait a year for George E. Carey to basically remake his own film as 1970’s Weekend with the Babysitter. The existence of the second film indicates that perhaps they all learned an important lesson. If you are a geriatric lech, your best shot at any face time with a pretty young thing is to shut up and pay for it.

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