Even for the frequency of new episodes which appear now about as often as a lunar eclipse, TV's Moonlighting stands as one of the most masterfully constructed bantering sessions between two individuals since Socrates and Plato.

While other adult video have copped titles, then snuck out the back door with thin plot constructions that bear absolutely no similarity to its intended parody, Moonlusting has chosen the path of most resistance.  It has gone for style, mood, content and sex.  It is a big bite, and leaves a little too much to chew.

Jerry Butler as “David” and Taija Rae as “Hattie” go for the flavor and fire of Cybill Shephard and Bruce Willis but can only manage some armpit diatribes punctuated with a lot of four letterisms.  It just isn’t funny. The running gag here is that David and Hattie want to play “private dick” but the director and camera crew keeps stepping in just when the eye contact gets a little more than meaningful.

Then Tracey Adams steps in as a client with her set of problems.  Her husband (John Leslie) is keying off with every bimbette in town who wears a pair of Judy Garland socks and wants to come over the rainbow.  David and Hattie take the case which, of course, entails bedroom surveillance on a grand scale with Tracey occupying a generous amount of on-camera sex time. She gets the better of those scenes.  Taija gets all the facial gestures, and Butler gets all the frustration for his aborted efforts to mount Taija.

Of course Leslie gets revealed for the slime that he is, with some interesting camera angles to boot.  As for David and Hattie, the set closes down, but the camera continues with some strange cinema verite as Butler and Taija get into some dressing room small talk in their real life guise. They finally get around to sex, but this postscript is a strange insertion.  A commendable effort, but one that just misses.