English soft-porn flicks are so predictable that you feel that you could have
directed them better yourself. This one follows the stream of predictability
so closely, it should be given some sort of an award for it. One detective,
complete with a raincoat, hat and cigarette; one floozie, dressed like a whore,
a cigarette, but this time in a long holder; one ruffian, out there to make
it rich – with the woman’s help; one millionaire who spends fifteen minutes
of the movie trying to feel up the woman, and the rest of the movie as a corpse;
some other characters....
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