The presence of a woman director (Genevieve Robert) and two women scriptwriters (Wendy Goldman, Judy Toll) promises half of the audience a chance to learn what the other half thinks on the subject, and promises that other half an uncommon cinematic mouthpiece. That's too much to promise, of course, and a partial fulfillment won't be a total disappointment. The feminine point of view, for starters, never wavers. And the whole thing has something of an air of slumber-party show-and-tell -- most explicitly, but not exclusively, in the scene when three women compare orgasms and practice their pelvic rotations. And if the cynicism about the male sex seldom rises above mere cattiness (or bitchiness, depending on your animal of preference), that's still a higher level of discourse than in the standard Eighties sex comedy. More, the movie actually has something to say about the importance of the second impression, the closer look; and it has something to say, too, about the strangeness of how things turn out sometimes -- and not the least of the strangeness is its and its characters' willingness to settle on a romantic match that's not perfect, but is good enough. The last thing you would expect of this brassy, high-shine comedy is that it be touching. And, as the final frames slip by, that's the very last thing it is. Lea Thompson, Victoria Jackson. (1988) — Duncan Shepherd
This movie is not currently in theaters.