Pauline is a wealthy and married New York heiress who embarks on a series of sexual encounters with various people. She keeps in close contact with Gypsy, a tarot reader whom Pauline writes letters describing in minute detail about her conquests from seducing a French stable boy, to having sex with a gas station attendant, to a visiting Nigerian princess with a past, and to a fantasy lover, which apparently stems from her past involving a flashback sequence showing Pauline's young grand mother and younger sister taking a verse from the bible a little too far and seducing their own father. Written by
There used to be times when I'd be so jealous with Pauline. I wouldn't accept her letters or answer her calls. She couldn't understand that. Why should she? She's never known a jealous moment in her life. You see, being her lover today would never mean you will be her lover tomorrow. It's as if she didn't have a memory. Only the one in her arms was the one she desired. And because of this, our love was impossible. I wanted to own her, and she couldn't be owned.
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It fails to deliver on two fronts. The story lacks sufficient interest to make the not very titillating sex scenes worth sitting through and vice versa.
It is to pornography what "Driller Killer" was to horror films, meaning that young Abel Ferrera didn't seem to understand what audiences for these kind of pictures wanted to see. Sure, he delivered hard-core sex and in Driller Killer delivered the blood and violence, but both are crippled by absolute pretentiousness and lack of plot. The girls are mostly unattractive and the sex is lame. The "fantasies" of it's characters are dumb and pointless.
Also, don't believe those bootleg hawkers that try to convince you that Ferrera "performs" in this movie. He appears as the character of the old man but saves the nasty stuff for his stunt double.
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