This trashy B movie attempts to masquerade as a study of sexual addiction, but it is really a poor excuse for a sexploitation flick. The story revolves around Sammy Horn (subtle name) played by Michael Des Barres. Sammy is a restaurant owner with a clueless wife Grace (Rosanna Arquette) and a young child. He has a sexual addiction and must have meaningless sex every five minutes with any woman in his field of vision who will agree (and of course every woman on the planet finds him irresistible despite the fact that he looks old enough to be collecting Social Security).

The story is centered on a conversation with his therapist (Nastassja Kinski) where he is describing each of his sexual exploits via flashback. This is nothing more than a convenient launching point for a parade of serial sex acts, which consumes at least 75% of the screen time.

It is hard to know where to begin criticizing a film this bad. The production values are abysmal. The movie is shot on video with a look somewhere between a TV soap opera (at best) and an amateur porn flick shot in someone's garage. The direction by Joseph Brutsman is horrible with bad lighting, uninspired framing and poor actor direction. The script is vapid and the dialogue mindless and vulgar.

Women are generally portrayed as sex obsessed nymphomaniacs just waiting for an addict like Sammy to come along and rough them up while feeding their insatiable appetites with some impersonal copulation. As an example, Grace's sister comes over to indignantly inform Sammy that she knows he's been sleeping around and that she is going to tell his wife. His response to that is to throw her up against the wall and begin raping her. About three seconds into it she has an epiphany and is instantly converted to one of his sex disciples begging him to give her more. Just as they finish Grace walks in and sis says to her, 'Oh, great to see you, gotta run to pick up Timmy' and mum's the word about Sammy's indiscretions. The bond of loyalty has been sealed with a good ravishment. No spoiler here because it is so typical of the obvious nature of the film that anyone who had seen the first fifteen minutes could have predicted it.

The sex depictions are all overdone, mechanical, and so poorly simulated that they are more comical than erotic. Most of them are done with both participants fully clothed. The acting is wretched. Michael Des Barres presents all the depth of a rain puddle. He really seems to get into the thrusting and profanity of the sex parts, but when it comes to actually acting with Arquette and Kinski, he is adrift. Rosanna Arquette is the closest thing to an actor in this film, giving a bearable performance and looking genuinely hurt when she finally discovers that her perfect husband is a lecherous animal. Nastassja Kinski is far too compassionate as the therapist, but at least we have some acting happening here. The rest of the cast is just a collection of elevated body doubles to whom they give thought provoking lines like 'hit me harder, is that the best you can do?' and 'Oh, GodYES'.

This movie is among the worst I have ever seen, a dubious distinction given the thousands of films I have viewed. I have given it the extremely rare dishonor of rating it 1/10. Not to be seen within three hours of any meal.

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B). positive;...I think the answer is
A).