Okay, let's dim the lights, maybe adjust the tracking just a bit, and settle in for a title that practically leaps off the video store shelf with its glorious, unashamed simplicity: Six Swedish Girls in the Alps (or Sechs Schwedinnen auf der Alm, if you want the original 1983 German flavour). Finding this nestled between worn copies of action blockbusters and horror flicks felt like unearthing a specific kind of buried treasure – the shiny, slightly silly, Euro-sleaze kind that promised picturesque scenery and predictable, giggly escapades.
Alpine Air and… Other Things
Let's be honest, the plot here isn't exactly Chekhov. Six young women from Sweden, brimming with the kind of cheerful naivete these films adored, arrive in the Austrian Alps for a sun-drenched, carefree holiday. What follows is a series of loosely connected vignettes involving local lads, mistaken identities, conveniently lost clothing, and the stunning Alpine backdrop doing some heavy lifting, visually speaking. It’s the kind of film where narrative logic takes a backseat to ensuring our titular heroines find themselves in playfully compromising, often sparsely clad situations. This wasn't trying to be high art; it was aiming squarely for the distinctly European brand of lighthearted, nudge-nudge-wink-wink sex comedy that thrived in the home video market.
You have to understand the context here. The "Swedish" tag in titles like this was pure marketing shorthand back in the 70s and 80s, playing on a widespread perception (fair or not) of Swedish liberation and attractiveness. It instantly signaled a certain kind of film to potential renters browsing those glorious, slightly sticky video store aisles. Did it matter if the actresses (Marianne Aubert, Kerstin Berggren, Carina Christensen among them) were actually Swedish? Probably not to the target audience!
The Journeyman and His Playground
Behind the camera was Franz Josef Gottlieb, a name familiar to anyone who explored the wilder side of German-language cinema from the 60s through the 80s. Gottlieb was an absolute workhorse, directing dozens upon dozens of films across genres, from crime thrillers (Im Schloß der blutigen Begierde) to comedies, and a whole heap of these lederhosen-and-libido romps often produced by Erich Tomek's prolific Lisa Film company. You can almost feel the efficiency – find a scenic spot (often in Carinthia, Austria, a favourite Lisa Film location), gather a cast willing to embrace the silliness, and knock out another slice of escapism built on sunshine and suggestion. There's no complex cinematography or deep thematic exploration here; it's functional filmmaking designed to deliver exactly what the title promises, quickly and cheaply. It’s part of a loosely connected series that included romps on the Reeperbahn and elsewhere – find a location, add Swedes, print money (or at least, fill VHS tapes).
That Certain VHS Charm
Watching Six Swedish Girls in the Alps today is an exercise in appreciating a very specific, time-capsule aesthetic. The humour is broad, relying heavily on visual gags and double entendres that land with varying degrees of success. The performances are… well, let's say enthusiastic and geared towards fulfilling the archetypes required. It’s the sheer, unpretentious nature of it all that provides the charm. There’s an innocence, almost, to its straightforward mission to entertain through sunshine and mild titillation, a far cry from the often cynical or overly complex fare we see today.
I distinctly remember the cover art for films like this – often featuring brightly coloured, slightly suggestive drawings or photos that left little doubt about the contents. Renting one felt like a small act of rebellion, even if the film itself turned out to be far more tame and goofy than the packaging implied. It was part of that late-night viewing ritual, maybe after the parents had gone to bed, where the slightly fuzzy picture and muffled sound of the VCR added to the slightly clandestine thrill. Does anyone else remember that specific feeling of popping in a tape like this, half-expecting something scandalous and mostly getting something endearingly silly?
Not Exactly High Altitude Art
Look, Six Swedish Girls in the Alps isn't going to rewrite cinematic history. It's predictable, formulaic within its specific niche, and undeniably dated in its sexual politics and humour. The pacing can feel leisurely, padding out the runtime with scenic shots that, while pretty, don't exactly drive the 'narrative' forward. It relies entirely on its premise and the willingness of its cast to play along.
Yet, there's an undeniable nostalgia factor for those of us who remember this particular flavour of European B-movie entertainment filling video store shelves. It represents a type of filmmaking that barely exists anymore – low-budget, cheerfully low-brow, and completely unashamed of its simple goals.
Rating: 3/10
Why this score? Let's be clear: this is not a "good" film by conventional metrics. The plot is wafer-thin, the humour basic, and the production values pure exploitation-era efficiency. However, the rating acknowledges its historical place as a specific type of VHS-era artifact. It delivers exactly what its title promises, no more, no less, and holds a certain kitsch charm for those who appreciate the bizarre corners of 80s Euro-cinema. It fails as compelling drama or sophisticated comedy, but succeeds perfectly at being Six Swedish Girls in the Alps.
Final Thought: It’s a relic from a time when "Swedish," "Alps," and "Girls" was all the plot you needed for a weekend rental – pure, unadulterated VHS cheese, best enjoyed with low expectations and maybe a fond chuckle for a bygone era of cinematic silliness.