Except for the sex, Michael Raven's Mafioso has "TV Movie of the Week" written all over it. Decent non-sex acting, a fairly complicated script (by Raven and George Kaplan) and lush locations all scream "mainstream."

And that, of course, is part of the problem: The sex scenes get slightly shorter shrift than they should - but on the other hand, where else is the viewer likely to find the assemblage of sexual talent that do their thing here? Even one of the newcomers seems destined for greatness.

Given the film's title, what role would one expect Herschel Savage to play? Right; think Tony Soprano. He's married to Shanna McCullough, who, we're supposed to believe, is the mother of James Bonn and Sydnee Steele (perhaps McCullough was impregnated at age five). The plot revolves around deals and double-crosses - and figuring out to whom the gloved hands belong that are secretly taping conversations and stealing computer data, and handing the stuff over to FBI agents Mike Horner and Cory Lane.

In the meantime, of course, there's lots of fucking going on, from Sydnee's horsie liaison with Erik Everhard in the mansion's mini-theater, to Shanna's master bedroom mish with Tony Tedeschi, to Dillion Day's bed bounce with Lita Chase, to Bonn's tub-side mish and horsie with April. All excellent, if short. But the lady who will cause viewers to sit up and take notice is a quiet Euro-chick by the name of Sheila, who looks like a cross between Charlie and Jewel De'Nyle - and who really fucks up a storm (cowgirl, doggie) with Herschel on the living room couch.

The cinematography, by Jack Remy, is top-notch, and worthy of a pre-nom. It's obvious that a lot of effort went into making this film click on many levels, and we almost expect to see it play someday on Cinemax - in the wee hours.