Inviting direct comparison to Plan 9 From Outer Space and the equally turgid Mars Needs Women, Elizabeth Starr sets off to make the ultimate in space camp, but winds up blowing apart on the launch pad.

What Starr fails to appreciate is that a spoof derives its humor by parodying the results of serious efforts gone fatally awry. Plan Nine, et al, is hilarious because Ed Wood thought he was writing shrewd dialogue and directing his actors with dramatic flair. The fact that they were barely able to simultaneously walk and emote is what engenders the guffaws. Likewise, its shoestring effects - model kits on strings - were the best he could afford.

Porn Stars is just a misbegotten comedy that thinks showing all the seams of ineptitude is funny in itself. Starr is Queen Cone, upper caste leader of alien women. By way of a spaceship (whose interior looks like an aluminum shed filled with air conditioning ducts) they land on Earth, eager to replace their limp Martian men (exemplified by the midget King Kokalott) with studlier specimens. Hijinxs ensue! Well, at least on paper. Even Ron Jeremy struggles to keep his scenes from being eaten alive by the cosmic inertia.

The script mixes weapons-grade bad jokes with clichés more abundant than the over-endowed cast, troweling the whole mess over with - surprise! - gratuitous sex scenes. Even on an erotic level, the feature is maddeningly useless. How could no one foresee that spraying a bunch of huge-titted gals head to toe with lime green greasepaint wouldn't result in an unsightly, sweaty mess under the hot lights? What point is there in a porno where everyone is doing their damndest not to touch each other?

A reluctant three AAAs is awarded strictly on the basis of overall chutzpah.