Wavering between the prurient and the pathetic, between the cinéma-vérité of Frederick Wiseman and the trash TV of Jerry Springer, Joe and Harry Gantz (of HBO’s Taxicab Confessions, but no relation to our Arts editor) here follow the escapades of three "swinging" couples who ultimately shed more clothes than they do light on the subject. Perhaps Joe and Harry could have varied the background and character of the participants, because the men invariably come off as manipulative creeps and the women as co-dependent saps, and the cultural and class level of it all rarely rises above trailer-park status.

James and Theresa do, in fact, live in a mobile home; he’s a James Carville sound-alike and she’s a feisty redhead, and the two talk a good fight until he gets "bored" when not in control of an orgy and her discomfort with aging compels her to get a boob job. Callow twentysomethings Calvin and Sara were a swinging couple who became an ad hoc ménage à trois when Julie entered the picture; then she proceeded to squeeze Sara out. As for Roseanne Barr look-alike and child-abuse victim Shannon, "the lifestyle" unravels when hubby Gerard starts taking beeper messages spelling out "I love you" from Misty. It’s no news flash that life doesn’t get any easier for those who discard sexual conventions, and neither does the film try to elevate the discussion above the unreflective, pop-psychological rationalizations of the participants. But one question it should be asking is not so much why people have sex with strangers but why they have sex for strangers, parading their fetishes and foibles before a camera. (105 minutes)