'School For Sex' starts in a court room where a smug, middle aged man is on trial for fraud. In mitigation, his counsel tells the court how his client inherited a substantial estate on his parents death, but has subsequently lost it in his pursuit of the fairer sex, i.e. at he's had least six wives who, in modern parlance, may not have been gold diggers, but certainly weren't messin' with no broke n****s. Still, he manages to stay cheerful.
To illustrate the story we get a few flashbacks in which we some a fair amount of flesh but very little to excite anyone who hasn't seen a pair of tits before.
|She's hiding from a scary film; he thinks he's in a porno.|
|He's going to notice them in a minute.|
The most extraordinary thing so far is the over excited gurning our hero does everytime he gets near a woman: you can't help but wonder if he pulls that grotesque face when a woman's head is near his waist what would happen if she actually did anything to him? Presumably he would explode, or perhaps self-combust. That said, I'm not sure what face I'd pull if being pummelled by a busty Swedish masseuse. I'd like to think I'd retain a certain sang froid, but I couldn't guarantee it.
|Busty Swedish masseuse.|
|Our hero keeps his cool.|
Anyway, the dirty, dopey bastard gets a two year suspended sentence and, after imagining what's under the prosecuting counsels jumper, he and his lawyer adjourn to a nearby strip club for some gratuitous nudity and some exposition. Having escaped imprisonment, our seedy hero has an idea to restore his fortune: he's going to start a school to teach women how to snag rich suckers just like him and fleece the sex-crazed mugs for all they've got. Our hero will take a thirty three and a third commission on all cash scammed. To me, this seems so counter-intuitive as to suggest medical intervention is required, but it seems to tick the boxes for the solicitor too who says that he has a probation officer friend who can supply as many wayward teenage girls as they can handle.
|This lawyers appears to have mislaid her briefs.|
|That's the little man from Benny Hill. He needs a slap.|
I'm not going to say anymore about the plot, not because I don't want to spoil it for anyone, but because there just isn't very much more to it. The first batch of girls turn up, strip to their smalls, do some PT (in their smalls), have a few odd lessons, strip to their smalls, etc. etc. so on and so forth. It's supremely daft and pretty shoddily made, but it has humour and a light touch, coming across rather like a school play with nipples. That sounds awful, of course, but I mean it has an innocence to it and, for all its bluster, isn't at all sexy or even sexual, it just has decent looking girls in the near nip.
|'I'm not posing, I ALWAYS stand like this'.|
|Now they're interested...|
|PT with Nosher Powell.|
|Without the proper kit, they had to do it in their pants.|
|Francoise Pascal and a top that should have been washed at a lower temperature.|
An early-ish work of smut and horror polymath Peter Walker, I did like this film, but have no desire to see it again, although I rather fancied Rose Alba as the permanently tipsy deputy headmistress. She doesn't remove so much as an eye lash, of course.
|Add something about 'taking down particulars' here. |
NOTE: could we get a way with a Helmet joke?
|Rose Alba, stood up, fully clothed.|
|A climax, of sorts.|
It gets silly before it gets sexy, and is rather muddled and chaotic once it starts to draw to a close but I'm not going to hold that against Peter Walker, he's doing his best. Well, maybe not his best, but he's giving it a go. Sort of. I suppose. Hard to tell, he's a mercurial little bastard.
|All the credit, or all the blame, you decide.|