Cum to Live

‘A sexually correct movie’ is the brave caption under the deliberately down-market title. Another compliment: the first good thriller about safe sex! Douchet’s second film – the first, a film version of Diderot’s masterpiece Jacques le Fataliste, is still on the shelf – is humorous (but maybe not for everyone), post-puberal (but to-the-point), pornographic (even if the concept hard-core is little over the top) and cinephile (even if the preference is not for typical art-house films). A producer receives a visit in his chalet from a script-writer, while outside the worst snowstorm of the century is raging. The scriptwriter (played by a longhaired Douchet himself) is angry. You see, the producer has stolen a script and earned a lot of money with it, without paying him anything. The visitor wants justice, but accidentally gives the producer a fatal push. While he is busy disposing of the body, a second unexpected guest appears from the snowstorm. An American female singer, who assumes that the long-haired heavy-metal fan is the famous producer. She is in for some sex to kill time. But are there any condoms in the place? There is a gun and a murky past. Events succeed each other with an iron discipline; the practised B-film viewer is not disappointed in any way. Right down to the happy ending.