Choosing a title for any adult feature (or mainstream one for that matter) is a little like opening mouth and inserting foot. Henri Pachard's Sabotage, almost, but not quite, preps itself for a shoe sandwich, it's saving grace being due largely to an element of weirdness that must be savored like a cup of French roasted coffee to be fully appreciated.

Speaking of French, Steven St. Croix who appears to have a number of pissed-off ex girlfriends wandering about in this story,  entertains his current babe Brigitte Aime at his house. Aime, ostensibly, doesn't speak a lick of English, but this doesn't prevent St. Croix from engaging in what must be the single longest bout of meandering verbal foreplay in the history of adult cinema. For all the good talking does, St. Croix fucks Aime no more than a few seconds, literally — this, as a part of a three-way when Valeria shows up out of the clear blue like Santa on a snow-covered roof. Valeria, too, at least gets a better deal in her earlier threeway with T.T. Boy and Tiffany Mynx, complete with ECU's that suggest Borskyvision but with camera equipment that turns it into a slight case of hyperopia.

Another of St. Croix's ex-amours, Mynx appears to him as a figment in the bathroom much like Elvis in True Romance. They engage in typical Pachardian outhouse repartee, culminating in a pop shot that takes maybe a few seconds longer to produce than the record hit with Brigitte, suggesting that the feature be re-named Premature Burial.

Aime, as we learn, is doing some kind of undercover work lor Peter North. What that is, remains under covers as an aimless game of Twenty Questions reveals nothing save the fact that North makes more headway, physically, with Brigitte than St. Croix. All for naught, though. The finale is an internal cum shot (one supposes). Like Pachard's equally obtuse Eclipse, Sabotage is something of a Chinese puzzle, more entertaining to be sure, and with a hot-looking Brigitte Aime, a truly underrated performer.