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The 100




Tell Me No Lies
(2000)
Reviewed by Andy Bowers
Rating: 9 Beans

n what I can attest is the most un-erotic erotic thriller ever to be made, this film achieves new highs in the term "tease".

Erotic thrillers, while usually badly plotted, absurdly acted and possessing the budget equivalent to my grocery shopping list, pay off in one way. It's the only reason they get rented. Do I have to spell it out for you?

I don't know what's happened to the genre, but after Shannon Tweed left for greener pastures and movies with an actual script, things just haven't been the same.

Tell Me No Lies delivers none of what is expected of a standard Z grade boob fest. Don't get me wrong. There is plenty of breastage. Too much in fact. I never thought it would be possible to get bored of such things but this film successfully achieves such a feat. One guy spends 10 minutes rubbing his head over a girls chest. If they were balloons he would have been able to stick her to a wall with all that pent up static electricity.

On top of that, erotic scenes are stretched into 20 minute salutes to heavy petting. If I wanted to see that I'd go to the zoo and watch monkey's do it. To make matters worse, some parts of the film are repeated. Not in 20 minute intervals, but back to back. Women can be observed performing the same jerking neck motions 3-4 times repeatedly. If I wanted that I'd be watching taped re-runs of Max Headroom.

I swear to God that watching Tell Me No lies wanted me to take a cold shower, but only so I could fill the tub and drown myself for watching such an immense piece of crap. Oh, did I forget to mention the plot? - Get real.

I miss you Shannon. Please come back.






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