Hot Frequence

The FM radio station as a hook for Adult Cinema is a useful and frequent ploy, most recently resulting in quality Brit Porn like "Radio Erotica" and "Erotica FM". But back when he was still directing his productions (using the fake name of "Walter Ego", Marc Dorcel muffed this opportunity to mine that vein.

Instead we have a string of six sex scenes, loosely related and randomly inserted, supporting the story of a "love station" being inaugurated. When it finally goes on the air in the final reel, it's nothing more that sexy femme deejays telling sexy stories over the air for a jaded public to listen to and perhaps call in.

Pascal Saint-James does the lion's share of the humping as the head honcho of Hot Frequence, 95.2 on your Gallic FM dial, and his copious money shots merit applause. Not so Dorcel's script and direction, which fails miserably early on as job applicant, his label's superstar Melanie Coste, balks at Pascal's casual intimations of sexual harassment to come at her job interview, yet is soon on the payroll humping him and all her fellow workers without raising a false eyelash or brow in protest.

Attractive femme cast, which oddly consists only of small-breasted women, quite unusual for this era of Adult Cinema or any other, is worth staring at, but the sex for sex sake format is dull. Prettiest actress, named just Scarlet, is ridiculously cast as a maid cleaning up the station premises after hours; of course Pascal humps her, with his usual condescending (class system?) manner.

DVD contains as a "bonus" feature a 23-minute look at Venus Berlin 2002, a typical industry market/bourse where talent like Tera Patrick and Monica Sweetheart are featured in addition to Coste signing autographs and Dorcel popping up at his label's booth. Tera lectures us on the greatness of Larry Flynt, who shows up and is lionized by porn director Pierre Woodman, in the usual self-serving "freedom of expression"/1st Amendment (Tera's spiel) propaganda that keeps pornographers feeling warm and fuzzy. It's all quite quaint, for an industry that 15 years later is imploding with the free-content thrust of internet and technological changes.