Mitch Spinelli's lousy screenplay sets up his daddy Anthony Spinelli's weak direction (actors all overacting) in the failed comedy "Sweat". It's consistently poor, not what one expects from talented porngraphers.
Picture hammers away tediously at a rather silly gimmick: Amber Lynn only wants to get a stud who can make her sweat while making love. No, she's not satisfied with orgasms -she wants to sweat like normal people do.
Perhaps this is a physical malady, so she consults her doctor. Uh-oh -it's played by Jamie Gillis doing an extended Jackie Mason accent and delivery, only proving he has no comedic ability. He does get to f*ck Amber, and returns late in the movie to give her one word of advice: "Barstow". Supposedly if Amber moves to Barstow she'll be able to sweat.
It turns out to be a shaggy-dog story with a stupid ending. Only bright spot is John Leslie, who pops up out of nowhere (presumably in Barstow) and makes her sweat, though his real identity is part of the trick ending. He is funny -playing an Italianate salt of the earth character which made me think of Bobby Carnevale -who would be perfect if anyone wants to make a biopic about the great Adult actor-director. Perhaps Scorsese? On second thought, fuggedaboutit!
