Producer William Dancer and director Joanna Williams followed their ultimate schoolgirl spectacular LITTLE GIRLS BLUE with this entirely different rape ‘n’ revenge drama that’s most definitely not for the faint of heart.
Sweet virginal Alex (adorable Chrissy Petersen, a Dancer regular not only in LITTLE GIRLS and its belated 1983 sequel but CHOPSTIX as well) is all excited about her first date with a charming ladies man (Joey Silvera) she met cute at a diner where he accidentally knocked her salad into her lap ! Her maternal landlady (Fran Essex) warns her to be on her guard as small town girls like her are easy prey for Big Apple Don Juans. Her misgivings prove only too justified when the couple is accosted at Joey’s apartment by a trio of masked thugs who have their wicked way with them. Tied-up Silvera even has to “suffer” the indignity of being orally pleasured by one of the bad “guys”, the one in the baggy clothes who doesn’t say a word, soon to be revealed – in not much of a surprise “twist” – as the far from masculine Eileen Welles, probably best remembered as the recipient of Nancy Hoffman’s double-fisted attack in Bob Chinn’s doctors ‘n’ nurses classic CANDY STRIPERS. A rather less expected turn of events is that Joey’s actually in cahoots with the loathsome trio (including, in addition to Welles, a very verbally abusive John Leslie and heavy hung Ken Scudder, the latter attempting characterization through an annoyingly maniacal giggle) who, it turns out, have made a recurring weekly event out of this kind of sick set-up.
Upset by the near-catatonic state in which she finds her charge the next morning, the landlady urges her close friend and cop (Dan Egan) to try and track down the culprits for this heinous crime. Discovering similarities between this case and the situation described in the suicide note of an earlier victim, the police man calls on kindly prostitute Barbara (the elegantly debauched Phaery I. Burd, who valiantly weathered the two-pronged assault by Silvera and Mr. Mammoth Meat himself, the late great John Curtis Holmes, in Bob Vosse’s steamy STORMY) to act as decoy, inadvertently interrupting her extremely arousing encounter with client John Seeman. A clever turn of events assures that Joey gets his comeuppance, the film’s final shot lingering long after the lights have come on.
The acting is something of a mixed bag. While stalwarts Leslie and Silvera could indeed always be counted on, Welles and Scudder were never known for their thespian abilities and struggle even with what little they are actually given to do here. Peterson as well doesn’t seem too comfortable with dialog but turns in a credibly terrified performance nonetheless during her drawn-out and extremely hard to take rape sequence. Yet it is the vastly underrated Faye Burd who proves the standout as the sympathetic streetwalker, delivering her lines with consummate confidence, and as the audience is in on the ploy to snare the evildoers, her climactic submission can be thoroughly enjoyed free of guilt.
Production is, perhaps intentionally so, nowhere near as smooth as on other Dancer projects with seemingly random soundtrack selections giving the impression of a rush job. DoP Ron Garcia, a simulation cinema veteran (who occasionally directed, as with THE TOY BOX and the Marsha Jordan showcase SWINGERS MASSACRE) who shot many an upscale hardcore endeavor – usually, as here, under the exotic pseudonym of “Rahn Vickery” – before easing into TV work, including the wholesome GILMORE GIRLS, still shows an unobtrusive eye for composition whilst never forgetting to thrust the viewer right in the midst of the action.