Rebecca Brooke, playing Carole, the young American housewife, doesn't confess much in this move, but has sex with everybody. It's a wonderful compliment to Rousseau, who confesses everything and never has sex. OK, she does confess to her Mom that she is "a very hot, horny girl and has been ever since high school." She doesn't do a lot of housewife stuff, either. OK, she folds a towel once. A towel. Once. It's her mother, Jennifer, played by the bustiful Jennifer Welles, who is the housewife of your dreams. Great in the kitchen, great in the sack. Even though she's about the same age as Brooke, Welles has a mature look that makes her believable as Brooke's mother. Move over, Stifler's Mom, Welles is the original MILF.
Carole and her husband Eddie (David Hausman) live next door to Anna (Chris Jordan) and her husband Pete (Eric Edwards). The foursome are a "foursome." After Mom-Jennifer comes for a visit and stares at herself in the mirror (naked, of course) for a good long while, the four kids strip down in the living room like they were in the gym getting ready for a workout. It's actually their nightly romp, which becomes a group grope with Carole in the middle while she is unloading something about her Momma's breasts that must be a complex with the name of a Greek play attached to it. Best to watch this scene with the sound turned off.
The next day, Pete puts a move on Mom, which Mom thinks is really cool, but that would make the kitchen way too hot, so Mom starts packing. Carole talks her into staying, and the next day the delivery boy (uncredited) from the supermarket shows up. Boing! Mom now has reason to live! And have sex. In the middle of the next night's orgy, (don't these people ever go bowling or something?), Pete slips upstairs and slips into Mom. The next time Delivery Boy comes with the groceries, Mom sets the hook with pie, coffee, and a sweater to keep him warm. Note that Mom, who heretofore has had her hair pinned up in a matronly wad, now has it flowing seductively below her shoulders. You learn to notice those things in film studies class.
Here comes the money scene, where the three ladies go to see Shandara, a mystic of some kind who teaches enlightenment through lesbian sex. They have the night off because the boys are going bowling (so what do I know?). So in see-through nighties, which don't stay on very long, Shandara leads Mom and daughter and friend through ritual kissing, breast-fondling, and a bunch of other stuff that you can fill in on your own. It comes to a close when Mom, in a moment of unfocused lust, almost launches herself at her daughter, but at the last second she stops. Darn. I could go on, but I'll leave you to see for yourself what other trysts director Joe Sarno came up with. Hint: Mom gets it from every direction.
Reviewing this review, I seem to have left out the plot and mentioned only the sex scenes. But then, that's all there is to mention. The movie starts off slowly and hits the finish line at 100 miles per hour. I think Sarno was going to make a movie with a message but halfway through said, "Aw heck, maybe next time," and just set up the actors for one grind after another. As always, the movie is well lit, and well photographed. Sarno is a filmmaker, after all. Recommended.
