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Its fluffy title a misnomer, WET RAIN DROPS is merely a low-effort wall-to-wall sex feature, reminiscent of the poorly made product back in the 1970/71 era of prehistoric porn.
Pretentious opening has stolen Ennio Morricone musical cues as we watch a California sunrise plus Gothic waves-crashing on the beach shots. Film proper begins with cute blonde Barbara (Tracy Walton/Alice Bigge) calling up a couple of guys because she's horny. They both are too busy, so she masturbates.
Meanwhile we watch the guys get it on. Don (familiar but boring R.J. Reynolds) is getting a blow job from an oriental girl (Ming Jade, not even given a pseudonym in the lousy opening credits), while Sam (Ric Lutze) has a threesome with two unidentified actresses.
The opening sequence of cutting between the three houses (shots depicting the homes' facades are used for hack transition) lasts 25 minutes before Don calls back, telling Barb he will be visiting. Don then calls his bud Rick (another anonymous thesp), asking him to join him at Barb's for a threesome.
After Sam delivers a slo-mo money shot at the 36-minute mark, the two girls carry on with tedious lesbian sex after he takes a shower. He tells the gals that they're all going to head to Barb's home for an orgy later.
Film takes a strong detour into the gynecological genre as we watch Barb pleasure herself, with extreme tight closeups that would make even Gerard Damiano's pioneering cameraman Harry Flecks/Joao Fernandes flinch. She also remembers having a threesome with Don and a busty mystery woman (Cindy Lynn), and uses an industrial strength Joe Sarno massage/vibrator machine to stimulate her clitoris and nipples.
At the 50-minute mark Don and Rick show up, and in a shockingly clumsy scene Rick storms through the door and tears off Barb's wrap, as if about to rape her -he's a wham bam kinda guy. Without hardly any foreplay or preparation, the duo subject Barb to a double penetration, filmed in tight closeup and obviously the film's raison d'etre. Non-ending is garbled by some bad splices, with a quickie sunset to send us home.
This garbage is so clumsily made I couldn't believe it was of 1978 vintage, but looking at the cast's histories that must be correct. Tracy/Alice is way too pretty for porn, and one feels sorry for her being subjected to such a crappy, low-down role. Lutze giggles his way through the "talk dirty" improvised dialog, and the rest of the cast is purely mechanical.
Soundtrack is one of the worst, moving from Morricone to inane Muzak versions of a most motley group of songs, including "I've Got a Lot of Living to Do", disco "Moon River", "Sheik of Araby", disco "Over the Rainbow", "Somewhere My Love" from DOCTOR ZHIVAGO, and plenty of lousy funk stylings. Director "John Tavern" isn't qualified even to be cleaning up at a rest room at a pub.
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