Check out who's checked in at the musty old King Edward Hotel in a seedy section of L.A.: Cheryl, a runaway teen who hopes to piece her life together. Little does she know that someone at the hotel has a nasty little penchant for chopping people into pieces. Welcome, happy campers, to one of the screen's most bizarre works of camp filmmaking. Paul Bartel (Eating Raoul, Lust in the Dust) directs, guiding this loopy foray "with the fervor of a carny barker at a freak show" (Jay Cocks, Time). Murder, fetishism, a dotty aunt, a sham clergyman, corny cops, a Peeping Tom and a guy who's a girl who goes nite-nite with a blow-up doll that has a photo of Cheryl's face taped to it - they're among the feverish parts of Private Parts. If you're without reservations, drop by the hotel.