Scotty Fox's All That Sex is a professionally crafted, sexually arousing production. But I feel its major fault lies in its attempt to follow (too closely) the quirky, time-displaced editing rhythms of Bob Fosse's autobiographical masterpiece of obsessive behavior, All That Jazz.

We follow the exploits of Ivan Breckner (Spears) from the soundstage to the dressing room, boozing, obsessing and womanizing, all the while being chided by two fantasy muses he calls Babe and Doll. In the most erotic sequence, Spears imagines the on screen make-out session he's directing between Randy West and Casey to go much farther than the scripted scene.

And so it goes, as Breckner makes and breaks careers, manipulates and intimidates, and flutters from one soul-less conquest to the next. Spears is quite good, as is Ashlyn Gere as the reporter sent to "cover" Breckner. All That Sex succeeds on an erotic level and is technically, very slick and polished. Recommended for its quality and audaciousness.