It appears that Rikki Braun is a bona fide chip off the ol’ block.

The third triple-X lensman in the Braun dynasty makes his arrival on the adult feature landscape with the verve and bravura of someone with countless fortnights of experience under their belt. Guess having Papa Axel around to show you the ropes is quite the ace in the hole.

It also doesn’t hurt, of course, that the elder Braun wrote the script for this eminently engaging tale about a conniving celebrity shutterbug (Wicked Girl Asa Akira) whose brazenly wanton tactics for capturing her famous subjects in flagrante delicto are sure as the sun and the moon to come around and bite her in the ass. But not before a whole lot of jollies have been had.

Opening with an ultra-sleek tracking shot of Akira ascending an escalator to the entrance of a hopping Hollywood nightspot, the movie simmers with an air of fresh vitality from its first frames. Set against a pulsing synth under-groove that according to the end credits is original music by Rikki Braun, it bears the stylistic influence of Nicolas Winding Refn, at least through its preliminary act.

Akira is at the club so as to get in closeup picture-snapping range of “Justin Griever” (Jessy Jones), who’s partying there with his entourage (and what perfect timing, given the real pop singer’s current p.r. woes!)—which she accomplishes by blowing bouncer Isiah Maxwell. After getting her money shot of Griever banging groupies Abella Danger and Valentina Nappi in the ladies’ room, she runs clawing to editor James Bartholet (in an uncharacteristically restrained performance) for another assignment.

And another assignment she gets: procuring incriminating photos of “Lindsay Logan” (Jessa Rhodes), whose dressing room she gains access to by allowing guards Tommy Gunn and Small Hands to d.p. her. One thing leads to another, and she winds up with her head between Lindsay’s legs in one of the movie’s steamiest scenes.

Another, the closing b/g with Katrina Jade and Seth Gamble, involves a stingingly ironic plot twist that we won’t reveal, but the scene, set in a warehouse aisle, is an unquestionable scorcher.

There really isn’t a bad scene in this bunch, truth be told, and it’s probably the best vehicle of the year for Akira, demonstrating that not only has she lost nary an ounce of her wild ferocity as a performer, but she’s not afraid to take on a role that casts her in a less than flattering light.

If Rikki Braun’s future efforts turn out as impressive as this one, the boy will indeed be doing his family legacy proud.