The Mistress is a lush vehicle that capitalizes on the latest trend in adult movies —the feminist film. Though some of the previous efforts have been too bitter The Mistress carefully avoids such trappings in favor of a solid romance from the female perspective.

During the opening credits, we are introduced to Sharon, a bouncy brunette strolling confidently down a busy urban street. The catchy soundtrack tune lets us know that this is an 80's woman with a carefree, ambitious, no-strings-attached lifestyle... and she like it. Sharon is a glorified secretary climbing up the corporate ladder in a successful architectural firm. Right off the bat we know that she is a talented and personable lady. Her boss, Carl (Eric Edwards), gives her a promotion to office manager over two men with seniority, and as the disgruntled employees discuss the situation at hand, the recurrent theme of the picture is laid out: Does Sharon become a success because of her talents, or because she is the boss's mistress? The same doubts will plague Sharon herself later on, but right now she remains content.

Soon Sharon gets a phone call from Paul, one of her many married boyfriends (apparently she has them spread out over different firms). He starts out by canceling their date, but winds up the conversation by telling Sharon that his wife, Ellen is leaving her own job to join Lampart and Associates... Sharon's firm, of all things! This news effectively cancels out their relationship, as well. Before Sharon has time to ponder the consequences, we are treated to the first sex scene in the film, and an omen of things to come.

As Paul and Ellen make love in their darkened bedroom, lush music fills the soundtrack. Their tender consummation relies mainly on extended oral sex, erotically highlighted by the semi-silhouetted nature of the photography. The overall effect is romantic, sensuous, and gratifying.

For Sharon, being her boss' mistress has its ups and downs. She gets treated to the finest restaurants, gets lavish gifts, and goes globe-hopping on a private jet. But, she is also at the mercy of Carl's whim. He uses her like a living Barbie-doll to satisfy the needs of his best clients. This degrading mixture of her in-office control and her helplessness with Carl finally begins to eat away at Sharon. One by one her boyfriends begin to slip away, caught in the trap of commitment which she has managed to elude. After some tender consoling from her girlfriend (which fortunately does not lead to the cliched lesbian scene), Sharon decides to change her lifestyle and take on the potential of a challenging commitment by seeing single men only.

Though The Mistress is thin on story, it often manages to be on target. The thought-provoking material is very entertaining, and is brought into sharp focus by Kelly Nichols as the troubled Sharon. Her character has relatively little to say, and since the film is basically her story, she tells it with her beautiful and expressive eyes. The rest of the cast, including Brooke West, Anna Turner, and Susan Kay, is above average; and deal with the issues as sincerely as possible, given the limitations of adult films (emphasis on sex).

The middle chunk of the picture contains a series of flashbacks to Sharon's previous affairs, sex scenes with former lovers. They are all handled with affection and warmth. Certainly not a bad idea, it grows a bit too repetitive by staging each scene like the one that precedes it. Director Remy goes overboard with the "legitimization" of adult films by making The Mistress as slick as the current Hollywood productions. And while it is handsome to look at, The Mistress sometimes lacks passion.

A special note should be made of the music (by Ronny Romonovich) which goes far beyond the usual disco thump that accompanies less professional productions. Let no mistake be made - The Mistress is a classy and worthwhile endeavor.