Poor Alexandra Silk. In New York to cast a new porn vid with star Ava Vincent, the directrix finds herself jet-lagged, in a Yellow Cab instead of a limo, and heading out to Brooklyn for a casting call, where she is supported by a picket line of women against "bad porn" (including Candida Royalle) and interviewed by a TV crew to whom she declares, "My female viewers are tired of seeing the same five guys in every movie ever produced in Porn Valley. I want new blood. I want fresh meat!"

Studio assistant Leila Swan is the only support person at the audition, and the "set" is a rehearsal space with a bare mattress and box spring on a steel frame. The guys line up, and are questioned and sized up by Silk between interviews for TV - by a journalist (Tara Indiana) whose questions tell more about herself than Silk - and occasional guys who refuse to strip because it "isn't nice." The promising ones are asked to read with Vincent, and when one (Brian Bishop) catches her on a break (reading Candide, no less) he "rehearses" with her in a moody slow-paced scene that will have raincoaters reaching for their remotes, and couples reaching for each other. Swan, dispatched to find Vincent and getting an eyeful of her coupling with Bishop, gets caught by another promising actor (Johnny Dannon) who also likes to watch - and play along - until Silk, wondering where the hell everybody went, blows in and demands everybody get their clothes on and get back to work.

While the auditions continue, Indiana, taking a cigarette break, shows that she's as turned on as the rest by getting it on with another stud (Marcus Oralius), calling him a "dirty pig" and putting clothespins on his nipples. Swan, sent to find out where the howling is coming from, finds two of the guys getting it on in a throwaway blackout gag.

Then, to top matters off, Vincent declares that she's in love and wants to retire. Just as well - Silk's backers just got busted for juggling the books. What the hell. Silk grabs the studs who passed the audition, kicks everybody else out, and gets it on, exulting, "This is my lucky day." Happy ending.

Razor sharp videography (by David Doyle) matches clever pretense-deflating dialogue, like Silk's spoken disdain for "icky cum shots" countered by Swan's sotto voce "I like cum shots." Sexuality of all sorts is celebrated (Indiana is a bit older and bulkier than the usual performer, and when was the last time you saw a they're-really-gay gag in a straight video?) and the result is a fun, sexy time had by all. Except the raincoaters.