There's this whorehouse/casino run by a platinum floozy name of Rosemary (Taija Rae), who's on the outs with this gangster, Joey somebody, who's on the outs with the Mayor, and there are these G-men who spend all their time filming everyone's upstairs sexcapades on the sly for vague blackmail purposes. I can't figure out who the bad guy is, but I suspect it's gotta be Joey (he's got an Italianish last name). I don't want to dwell on the plot (it isn't worth it), and I'd prefer to stay away from the sex too, unless a nap is in order.
This whole production is so laid-back and draggy, it's downright stultifying. There's a too-static camera throughout; slow, labored line deliveries from everyone and a sad lack of humor in a story that has about as much dramatic impact as a Turns commercial. A lesbian spot with Sahara and an unidentified, completely stunning, light-skinned black girl possessed of an awesome chest, could have been one of the highlights of the year. But it's much too short and handled in a half-baked, lackadaisical manner. Yes, there's plenty of integrated sex, but like old Chinese proverb say: too much salt and pepper make food tasteless.
One bright spot: an extended sequence in which a decade-old vintage sex reel is screened before a noisy bunch of customers. They supply the only humor and the antique footage makes this video tape look anemic to the max.