Laura Misch Owens in French Quarter (1977)

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To this very day, tourists who take a trip through the historic sectors of old New Orleans are struck by a spooky, dark undercurrent that seems to be flowing from the murky corners of the Crescent City’s history. Nowhere is this sense of ominous gaiety more pronounced than in the French Quarter (1978). Imagine the unsettling effect upon an attractive, single, modern-day woman who makes the trek to America’s most European metropolis and then takes a side trip back more than one hundred years and finds herself in the midst of a sex and voodoo scandal that has her making some hard decisions. Should she submit to being naked fodder upon the gris-gris altar or hold out for a white slavery position as a lingerie-shedding entree at a connoisseur-quality brothel.