If ever a title belied the contents of a tape, this is it. In what's billed as Ashlyn Gere's final movie. Gere immerses herself in an Italian opera that's more like the trauma ward of the Barbara Stanwyck Institute; meaning that in terms of the feel-good movie of the year, this one probably isn't.

From the opening frames, where Gere arrives home to find Luciano as inconsolable as a man can be without actually, physically having lost his penis, the vid puts the pieces of a very weird puzzle together in many strange and disturbing ways. The couple's young son, Brandon, is dead, leaving Ashlyn to find consolation in pills, a bathtub and a wine bottle, and it's off we go to dysfunction junction with a bloody bassinet, vehicular homicide and suicide being some of the quantity understated props in this road show from hell.

In one hallucinogenic episode, Luciano confronts Brandon's teacher, Kristi Myst, who's about to have the kind of relationship with one of her students (Rich Handsome) that gets you on Jerry Springer. What transpires is an almost maniacal screw bolstered by some great in=your=face shots of Kristi's ass, which gets fucked a million times over by Luciano. Gere has visions of a satanic creature attacking Brandon's bassinet with a pitchfork; but this doesn't necessarily prohibit her from engaging in a fury-imbued bedroom bang that land's Looch's dick in her backside from several positions.

In the guilt portion of her flashbacks, Gere cheats on her husband with Brandon Iron while the son's at the nanny's. Iron clasps Ashlyn's hands behind her back and doggie-humps her with the sexual dignity of a slobbering St.Bernard in heat. After which, Ashlyn, casually drunk, runs over a mer (Lizzy Borden) and child in a stroller. Finding Ashlyn in a bathtub full of blood, Luciano presses a revolver beneath his chin.

Sweet dreams