They don't make 'em like this any more. The opening credits sequence, with driver Richard Pacheco getting distracted by a passenger blowing him, is given an extra fillip by being staged in the cockpit of a seaplane under the bemused gaze of passenger Carol Doda, and the expected oopsie swerving goes vertical as the seaplane touches down on the water, then swings up again.
Blindfolded, Pacheco and company are chauffeured to the home of Madame Lau (Annette Haven) who spreads out some tarot cards and asks Pacheco to choose one, then follows her prediction of his future with a mood-lit sex scene, with flute music in the background. She then confronts Pacheco with the possibility that everything he knows is just an illusion, and then there's another girl there, smiling, silent, sucking his cock. "Who are you?" Pacheco asks, as she bounces on his dick. She just smiles back. After they fuck, she walks off and turns into Madame Lau. Questions about fact and illusion, porn and reality, are dealt with, often all at once: Pacheco reflects that it would be nice to be attended by five people like Marilyn Chambers was in Behind the Green Door, and a moment later he is. Later, another group of bed companions turn into mannequins, Pacheco and Haven turn into inhibited teens doing some sexual exploring while the parents are away, and Pacheco couples with Georgina Spelvin on a sunny San Francisco rooftop. Ends with a sun-dappled Pacheco/Kay Parker scene and a knowing wink to camera.
The sex is classic '70s Golden Age, with images and eroticism instead of the tight close-ups of the Video Era. The original jazz soundtrack doesn't hurt. Transfer is surprisingly clean for a 1982-vinrage film.