John Summers has always had a passion for structure. In this solo tape, he sets up six vignettes which all follow an identical pattern. First, peek-a-boo camera with a frosted lens ogles gorgeously muscled and tanned model splayed out on sumptuous white sheets. The model’s just waking up from a dream (intercut shots of speed racing or ski jumping). He makes lingering eye contact, stretches and preens, then slowly (very slowly) peels off his white fashion designer briefs and makes love to his body. When turned bellydown, each of these models seems to have a helium-filled butt that naturally levitates higher off the bed than the rest of his body—all except butt—shy Rex Chandler, who apparently wouldn’t turn over for the director. But even Chandler, who usually has a harshly angular persona on screen, comes off as pretty and doll-like when adores by the salacious camera of John Summers.

Summers approaches his studly, all-man performers as if they were lingerie models, fussing over them as if they were Vargas girls. No other director has quite this approach to the solo-action field, and Summer’s unique eroticism accounts for his undeviating artistic success. Veteran director Michael Zen gets credit for the fine editing. This is the kind of quality release that stores should look out for.