You'd think that the old "tell the sex therapist your ribald history" routine would be worn out by now - and you'd be right.  So when Cynthia Larkin begins to open her mouth and spill the beans to Cal Jammer, grab the remote control and zip past the inane dialogue buried under an overbearing music track, and fly down to the nitty gritty, where you may be aroused.

Case in point: the priceless Prices (Paula and Eric) who show genuine affection and lust for each other.  If you prefer sleaze over affection, check out the double penetration where Dusty becomes the sandwich lunchmeat between Wayne Summers and Al Lewis.

The direction runs form rich to ragged, sometimes opting for the clinical humongous close-up, which begins to resemble machinery instead of people.  A mixed bag.