Call me old-fashioned, conventional, or downright prissy, but the fact is, I am bored to tears by impersonal sex. Watching anonymous erections plow into equally anonymous orifices is about as compelling as chicken soup—and far less nourishing. For part of this unending ten-man orgy, director Hunter blacks out the set, relying on flashlights held by the actors as his sole source of light. Gimmicky to the point of silliness, this interlude in the dark adds nothing to the overall erotic temperature and suggests that Hunter, knowing he was in trouble, grasped at the first straw to come his way. Take my word for it — this is one tape that is well worth missing.