Avoiding logic the way the INS avoids standard operating procedure, Pure Sin is a hybrid All Sex/Film - complete with the director's characteristic "inspiration" from high-profile mainstream movies. Entrapment provides much of the muse in Pure Sin, especially the opener in which leotard-clad cat burglar April performs an erotic "Zeta-Jones ballet" around a roomful of laser beams. As opposed to a softcore ride atop Sean Connery's wrinkled fuckstick, April snags the family jewels of night watchman Eric Price. He is, quite possibly, the luckiest security guard on Earth, as he gets to straddle her across the desk and land a splash o' spoo in her open mouth. Some gals will do anything to avoid jail time.

Suddenly, the plot careens down a Byzantine rabbit hole which, depending on your drug of choice, might have something to do with Linda Thoren playing Internet sex games with Mysterioso man Alec Metro... or, like a salacious cross between The Amazing Kreskin and Timothy Leary, is Metro actually controlling her pliable little mind? (Don't bogart that joint, Cramer!)

Thoren proceeds to witness (and/or engage in) a few erotic Through The Looking Glass-type encounters, all nicely shot under production value-laden sets by talented cinematographer Jack Remy. But every time Thoren speaks, she sounds like Zero Mostel's secretary in The Producers - only less qualified. Leave it to the supporting cast to bring the real heat on home, particularly a tasty d.p. with blazing Bridgett Kerkove makin' like the icing in a Hydrox cookie comprised of Mr. Marcus and Julian St. Jox.