"Do I look crazy? asks John Leslie, a.k.a. The Lecher, as he sips a cup of coffee delivered by Rob Black, a.k.a. The Diner Owner. One rhetorical moment later, Black is being robbed at the business end of Leslie's .45 while a couple casually strolls into the diner and begins fucking furiously on the countertop. It's just one of the many surreal sequences that push The Lecher 2 up a notch towards near-perfection and total arousal.

The Lecher loathes "classy" sex--he craves it nice and nasty, "with a little sugar on top." Part studious sage, part rambling raconteur, and all pervert, Leslie wields his consumer camera like a weapon, a sexual smart bomb if you will, zeroing in on lush female targets who come down to "this side of town--looking for strays." In the case of Lecher, "this side of town" is probably his overactive imagination, a grainy, subterranean cellar of filth where the orgasmic screams of an interracial foursome's intense d.p. action echoes off the heavily-tiled walls... or up on the roof where a full-on anal breaching and facial frosting is occurring.

With a seemingly mystical power that enables him to stumble upon (or initiate) sexual liaisons with radar-like precision, the Lecher hooks up a few studs with a recent divorcee, who do to her ass and pussy what the IRS has been doing to the public for years, with interest. The Lecher also discovers a duo of weed-smokin' babes who trade in their munchies for a rather large piece of tube steak. It disappears in no time.

Bursting with raw energy, The Lecher is one of the year's best gonzo tapes. Virtually every scene contains heavy fudge-packing and juicy facial climaxes. It's a shame, in a way, that Leslie no longer performs on camera--his surrogates are quite adequate, but all that outstanding POV camerawork (with the equally fine Jack Remy on camera two) would be even hotter if it were seen from a fuckable position. There are some who many not cotton to Leslie's detached approach, which almost treats the performers as though they were meat puppets in his cosmic Rump and Judy show... but as it stands, Leslie provides just enough demented philosophy to balance out the action, which is plentiful and passionate enough to arouse the deadest of wood.

Is Leslie crazy? Yeah. Crazy like a Goddamned fox.