Not only is the most basic ingredient of sexual chemistry completely absent, this collection of lackluster encounters features performers who are, to be diplomatic, not the kind of folks to whom the camera is kind.

Forget about anything even  resembling "mere" professional competence here. The whole shebang looks like it was shot in a cracker box lined with faux tiger skin rugs, and it sounds like a Harrier jet in a wind tunnel.

De Troit's camerawork is so incompetent that it's either of the immobile "security camera" variety, or hand-held work which would embarrass a blind baboon.

The raggedy editing often cuts off the end of the sequences. If ever a tape begged for a mercy killing, this is the one.