More of a brazen swipe from Uncle Tom's Cabin than a Fellini homage, La Dolce Vita Hotelushers the old "villain foreclosing on the widow's mortgage" routine to ribald extremes, with heavy allotments of humor. Director Frank Thring -- who cameos as a Benny Hill-ish overaged, oversexed schoolboy in short pants, observing an effective girl/girl encounter - exhibits a sure hand and with the material, piloting the international cast through the uncharted waters of clashing accents, tangled limbs and creative coverage.

The setting: A picturesque villa in the south of France. While an oily Italian mobster with a weak mustache delivers his decree to Shalimar, the French hotel owner, two simultaneous menage(s) are occuring. "If you can't stand the heat, drop your pants in the kitchen" seems to be the motto of the chef and his apprentice (who resembles Annie Potts in Ghostbusters).

Together they concoct a tasty countertop session, which eventually includes the kid sister of the owner -- at first just a casual observer, but finally the "piece de resistance" as she enjoys his cucumber up her rectal Waldorf salad. Proving why French food is so creamy, the chef unloads on  bowl of cherry tomatoes, which the girls promptly gobble up. Waste not want not!

Meanwhile, the stableboy is put out to stud with one of the female clients, who remains in riding gear throughout their barn-burning hayloft encounter. Lack of a clear penetration shot at the beginning slightly handicaps the race, but the anal track is wet and wild. With a superb display of spit 'n polish expertise, she jerks the jockey with leather-gloved hand right into the finish line.

Eventually the staff huddle together in a brainstorming session which resembles a naked Pac 10 pep rally and devise a plan to whore themselves out to save the hotel. If you think that's a lot of pounding for 100K in back rent, you'd be right -- and with this crew, not too much of a problem. Inconspicuous as an elephant turd at a Kennedy wedding, the euro-babes scatter around the metropolitan Parisian area posting ads by hand. The response is akin to a Ethiopian all-you-can-eat buffet, with dollops of nasty anal, three-ways, foot fetishing, facials and enough general debauchery to make most US vids blush and hang their tails between their legs.

Costuming plays an important role in La Dolce, from ripped danskins to leopard print bodysuits to studded leather skirts (the latter, clinging to a cute blonde who wields a mean pair of handcuffs, really dresses up a tease scene). Speaking of tease, Shalimar winds up asking her rich, grape-estate owning ex-boyfriend for a loan. Selling no whine before its time, she offers equity in the form of a heavenly handful of over-the-dress fondling and a brief taste of her vaginal vineyard. Drunk on her charms, the guy can't help but secure her a bailout at the last minute. A celebratory orgy amidst glittering disco lights keeps everyone stayin' alive, bangin' butt and splattering' on faces. Great angles, editing, and enthusiasm overcome a few missing penetration shots. Private pulls through again.