Score (Radley Metzger, 1974)

Lesbian and gay sex painstakingly manufactured for the bi-curious, the openly perverted, and those still on the fence as to whether or not their heterosexuality is completely authentic, Score never wavers in its single-minded desire to promote deviant alternatives. Intelligent without being pedantic, brainless without being moronic, esteemed filmmaker Radley Metzger (Camille 2000), the crown prince of high class titillation, brings his usual flair for depicting sexual congress in a semi-interesting way to this bubbly tale about two couples–with vastly different views on love and marriage–spending a wild, drug-fueled evening with one another. Full of sharp, tersely worded dialogue; subtle straddling; and just the right amount of playfulness (too much would have been revolting), the film wonderfully builds toward its climax: The infamous duel same-sex swinger sequence–a mirror-infused, strap-on heavy, hairy ass crack affair that will confuse the living viscosity out of your woefully undereducated genitals.

A predator in the classic sense of the word, Elvira (Clair Wilbur) has been stalking her prey for months now. However, unlike the traditional hunter and hunted relationship, the hunter doesn't want to eat the object of its lust. Instead it just wants to aggressively massage the supple warmness of its taste test epicentres with their tongue for an extended period of time. Of course, a real tight wad might say what I just described sounds an awful lot like a meal being consumed. But let me assure you, Baba Ghanoush, there are no nutrients whatsoever being devoured during this oral groping; the eating in this case is strictly ceremonially.

Okay, now that I've cleared that up, Elvira is married to a guy named Jack (Gerald Grant), and together they lure unsuspecting couples (or whoever happens to be walking by at the time) to their swanky pad located in the picturesque town of Leisure (Bakar, Republika Hrvatska), so that they may perform sexual experiments on them.

Wearing their open marriage on their sleeve, Elvira and Jack set their randy gaze on a prudish couple named Betsy (Lynn Lowry) and Eddie (Calvin Culver), and hope to "score" with them before the night is over. It being the early 1970s and all, Elvira's loins are hungry for Betsy, while Jack would like to insert his hard manhood into Eddie's seaworthy asshole. You'd think they'd be craving the orifices of the opposite sex–you know, since they're a man and a woman. But Score is not about flying through the air at a normal trajectory, uh-uh, this javelin wobbles and skitters before finding a hole it feels comfortable in.

Clearly aware of the uphill battle she has in store for her, Elvira invites Betsy over to her home with the sole purpose of making her watch as she fornicates on a rug with a phone repairman named Mike (Carl Parker). She figures that this carnal display will shakeup Betsy's prissy demeanor and set the groundwork for their eventual rug-based rendezvous; which is still hours away.

The moment we've all been waiting for finally comes when the foursome of Elvira, Jack, Eddie and Betsy gather for a night of booze, weed and anal sex. Talk of dreams and aspirations leads them to playing dress up. The darkly handsome Jack dons a sailor getup, the wide-eyed Eddie does the cowboy thing, Betsy reluctantly chooses some skimpy black lingerie, and Elvira, not one to be upstaged, dresses as a coquettish nun.

The confusion I alluded to earlier really comes to the forefront the instant Elvira and Betsy go upstairs and Jack and Eddie proceed to the basement. It doesn't have to be said, but Jack and Eddie would have gone upstairs earlier if it had not been for Betsy's unexpected sabotage during their ascent.

The look on Jack's face as his cock was being blocked was priceless.

Anyway, the way this sequence of events is filmed is downright revolutionary. I mean, never have I seen lesbian and gay sex so comfortably intertwined with one another.

Now, at the time, most raincoat jockeys were probably enraged with the way the scenes that featured the gorgeous Claire Wilbur kissing the elfin Lynn Lowry were so closely associated with the ones with Gerald Grant and Calvin Culver doing the same. The ability to masturbate to Claire and Lynn in a cohesive fashion is severely hampered by the inclusion of the two guys. And I couldn't be more pleased by the thought of a bunch wanking enthusiasts not being to touch themselves in the style in which they are accustomed.

If I could choose to watch anyone be poked from behind by Claire Wilbur sporting a strap-on penis in a mirrored environment while high on amyl nitrite it would definitely be Lynn Lowry, one of the most uniquely beautiful people to grace the sullied screen. Giving a brilliant portrayal of a woman unsure of herself sexually, Lynn imbues Betsy with a pushy form of naivete. Part of you will be cheering Elvira on as she attempts to corrupt her innocence, yet another part of you will wondering why is it taking Elvira so long to entice Betsy into her debauched hemisphere?

Seriously, I loved her bashful, unsophisticated temperament, especially when she's in the same room with the more experienced Miss Wilbur. Plus, I dug the way her character praised the length of Elvira's superb legs, while at the same time, stood up for the smallness of her breasts.

In closing, a Radley Metzger film is a work of art, not some crass piece of filth that solely exists for the benefit of your wretched, self-induced orgasm.

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