This early flick from Abel Ferrara piles on the sleaze as it deals with a group of strippers being hounded by an unknown night-time assailant; from a surprisingly good cast for such cheap exploitation fare, Melanie Griffith scores best as the most popular stripper around, who also happens to be her moody boss (Tom Berenger)'s ex, indulges in a lesbian relationship on the side (with fellow stripper Rae Dawn Chong) and turns into a full-blown junkie when the latter dies at the hands of our good friend, the serial killer. Nice clean family fare, then, right? While the film remains watchable throughout and even has a handful of amusing sequences (most notably when, having been mistaken for the killer, the wrong guy gets beaten up in the kitchen of one of these clubs) and performances (in particular, Michael V. Gazzo as an irascible strip-joint owner), it is seriously damaged by a frankly dull hero (or rather anti-hero, since we're basically talking about an ex-boxer-turned-pimp here) and a very silly villain (a karate expert/fitness freak/budding writer). Billy Dee Williams also stars as an irate cop disgusted by all the squalor around him and Rossano Brazzi turns up for a free plate of pasta as the pre-requisite "respectable" mobster overseeing NYC's underworld. For the record, the film was originally bankrolled by Twentieth-Century Fox but they eventually sold the property to an independent company in view of its objectionable content and a cleaned-up, padded-out version eventually made the rounds on US TV and European videos; also, the actor playing the serial killer remains uncredited to the end, just as the killer's name is never known throughout the film.