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Finally, the long-awaited release of Seka's return to the XXX screen. Surrounded by much hype, hoopla and promotion, retailers might envision a nice profit on all copies of American Garter purchased.

Boy, do I miss dirty movies like this... adult flicks from the late 1970s and early '80s which tackled sexual subject matter with pride, deftness and skill. The happy/sad thing about American Garter is that it will spoil the viewer/reviewer to expect, even hope for, X-rated films of this latitude, films which obviously squeezed a great deal of time, expense and talent from all of those involved, from performers to directorial team Henri Pachard and Gloria Leonard, to the costumers and hair dressers, all of whom did a superb job. The fine musical score includes tunes reminiscent of the period (1961, to be exact), knockoffs of things like "Stand By Me" and "Wipeout". Even the unclies are authentic!

The black and white opening sequence of semi-nude models preparing frantically for a runway show is titillating, especially for gents who yanked it to the sights in the Sears catalogue. The editing, especially here, is crisp and quick. A delightful New Yorkese voiceover tells the tale which amazingly lakes place during just one day in the hectic life of "American Garter," a pre-pantyhose ladies' lingerie company.

Seka is the brains behind the entire operation, a designer with a heart of gold. At American Garter, the women are truly the downtrodden, but you get the feeling it will all change by the last reel. Gentle feminist jibes about women not wanting to stay home and bake cookies anymore are subtly woven into the script, which is credited to Raven Touchstone, Nicky Orleans and Pachard himself.

Other unsung gals at the company are Ona Zee, who shows two smart-assed guys (Mike Horner and Tim Lake) in accounting a thing or two about a woman's true place. Tiffany Million is the unappreciated secretary to the slimy company president (Steve Drake). Although she's not above boffing her boss, Tiff eventually gets even ever so sweetly. All of the nine sex scenes (some take place simultaneously, but thankfully are not intercut) are expertly woven into the fabric of the story. Seka is involved in a whopping four, including perhaps the hottest and nastiest of the bunch in which she and Sierra (after a lesbian encounter) trap a handyman (Joe Verducci) in the ladies' John and take turns sucking and riding him as he lays flat on his back, trying to repair a stall.

Just because the 1960s time frame suggests an age of innocence is no reason to expect the sex to lack punch. It doesn't. Case in point, weirdo designer Tony Tedeschi takes on Nicole London in a swinging harness, aided by Melanie Moore in a Jetsons hairdo. The touted runway show which immediately follows turns into a wild orgy of sorts behind the scenes as a calm, collected (and unaware) Veronica Hart announces the bawdy fashions.

As for the story, the good gals triumph in the end — I don't want to give away the neat plot twists — and the bad guys get theirs too. As for the viewers, they get much more than they're expecting. A great story, excellent production values and the chance to see their favorite porn princesses of the '90s almost unrecognizable in adorable bouffant hairstyles and rubberized panty girdles. Who could ask for anything more? A sure-fire multi-award nominee, must-see, must-rent, must-buy masterpiece.



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