Animal Instincts 3 Reviews

To truly appreciate the flavor of tasty deep-dish eroticism like that of TWO MOON JUNCTION (1988), sex-vid connoisseurs should be forced to nibble at a soft core-manque like ANIMAL INSTINCTS III. Not only is Joanna Coles (Wendy Schumacher) the talk show hosts' delight and a best-selling author, but she's also a libertine fond of having public sex at pool halls. Enjoying the roar of the crowd, this exhibitionist meets her match in record producer/artistic guru, Alex Savage (James Matthew), whose credentials include world-class voyeurism. Deceiving the world at large and new playmate, Joanna, into believing that he's gone blind, Alex coaxes uninhibited Joanna into becoming his mansion roomie. There he gets his kicks watching his duped, cheating girlfriend have sex with music clients whom he has hand-picked. As Alex salivates, horny Joanna does it with acid rocker Trick Willy (John Bates) and ghetto performer Shane Hooligan (Anthony Lesa). However, Alex goes too far when he career manages gangsta rapper Stone Chill (Marcus Grahm). Pretending he's left Alex's palatial digs, Stone Chill sexually debases Joanna, forces her to have sex with his bodyguard, then murders his lily-livered agent (Larry Butler) in full view of faux-blind Alex. Before Stone Chill can direct his homicidal impulses at Joanna, Alex throws a knife at the crazed rapper with deadly accuracy. Furious at Alex's fakery, Joanna takes a powder; with the sex games gone sour, the relationship was doomed anyway. Sporting two unsympathetic, soul-dead characters played by a facetiously smirking James Matthew and a frozen-pouted Wendy Schumacher, ANIMAL INSTINCTS III is unlikely to stimulate any viewer's nether regions. The film quickly passes the point where perversion just seems silly. Not having the courage of its S&M convictions, this sexcapade camps it up with double-entendre character names such as "Trick Willy" and his groupie, "Lolly Pop," and with an over-indulgent series of interior monologues. ANIMAL INSTINCTS III also doesn't fly as provocative libido-enhancement because its steamy interludes are preposterously conceived and sexlessly acted; Matthew seems to be engaged in a Guinness record-book competition for non-stop preening, and Schumacher simulates sex like a life-sized rubber doll strapped to changing partners. Failing to address the immorality of Alex's antics, this sexist rubbish is so laughably bad that it's futile to condemn its sins against liberated women. (Graphic violence, extreme profanity, extensive nudity, substance abuse, sexual situations.)