Christine (Sandy McCloud) is desperate for employment to the point where she accepts work selling tickets at a porno theatre off of Times Square. As expected some customers give off a creepy aura, though she accepts the invitation of one well heeled, mysterious gent's invite to a game at Yankee Stadium. The porno theatre environment meanwhile begins to have an effect on her, disturbing her boyfriend and spurring her to stalk the mystery man.
Variety is a lurid crock in search of an edge, but it's all location, location, location under neon on 48th street with a cast, crew and script ill prepared to mount a production. Most of the performers sleepwalk through their roles with McCloud's dense and dull lead insipidly gullible, her tailing skills amateurly obvious.
Bette Gordon's direction falters in nearly every department with anemic performances, disjointed storyline, overlong scenes and sloppy camerawork while talking dirty to you. Pounding her misandrist theme home she does offer up some provocative anecdotes from some minor players who look and sound like they've been around the block but with the leaden and lifeless McCloud in the lead Variety becomes an ordeal made to endure. A complete waste of time.
Variety is a lurid crock in search of an edge, but it's all location, location, location under neon on 48th street with a cast, crew and script ill prepared to mount a production. Most of the performers sleepwalk through their roles with McCloud's dense and dull lead insipidly gullible, her tailing skills amateurly obvious.
Bette Gordon's direction falters in nearly every department with anemic performances, disjointed storyline, overlong scenes and sloppy camerawork while talking dirty to you. Pounding her misandrist theme home she does offer up some provocative anecdotes from some minor players who look and sound like they've been around the block but with the leaden and lifeless McCloud in the lead Variety becomes an ordeal made to endure. A complete waste of time.