If Rod Serling was alive today and saw Cinemax's "The Pleasure Zone," he might be aroused to call his lawyer to file a copyright infringement lawsuit--but he wouldn't be sexually aroused.
Each and every episode of this Cinemax exclusive series begins thusly: a very handsome young man or a beautiful, sexy young woman is sitting in their den. Their computer is turned on. (No pun intended.)
A mildly attractive--but strangely serious-looking brunette--shows up on their monitor's screen.
"Welcome to 'The Pleasure Zone'--where anything is possible," she says. "My name is Serena. To speak with me directly, type in the password."
So they do.
"Well, Debbie?" Serena might then say. "How did it go?"
What will then ensue is Debbie's date of three weeks ago with John. Or was it Seth? No, wait. I think Seth was the one whose girlfriend told Debbie about "The Pleasure Zone." Oh, Hell's bells! Skip it.
The premise of this series is an Internet dating service. But it's no ordinary dating service. No, no! Serena, you see, knows just the right man--or woman, whichever the case may be--from the very first time she is told a few details about someone. What sort of details does Serena need to know? Well, for instance, in the case of Nikki ... "I'm looking for a man who's interested in more than just a casual fling."
"I understand perfectly," Serena would be likely to reply. "And I think I have just the right man for you."
All Cinemax's series--"Nightcaps," "Erotic Confessions," "The Best Sex Ever," "Passion Cove"... and last but definitely least, "The Pleasure Zone"--attempt to answer two basic questions. 1) How much of a story can be told in 28 minutes? 2) How many sex scenes can be squeezed into that time span?
"The Pleasure Zone" is the least successful at serving up the sort of "pleasure" it attempts to.
The music is nice, though. Herman Beeftink--Cinemax's main soundtrack man--is quite talented. Perhaps one day his talents will carry over to the big screen.
Each and every episode of this Cinemax exclusive series begins thusly: a very handsome young man or a beautiful, sexy young woman is sitting in their den. Their computer is turned on. (No pun intended.)
A mildly attractive--but strangely serious-looking brunette--shows up on their monitor's screen.
"Welcome to 'The Pleasure Zone'--where anything is possible," she says. "My name is Serena. To speak with me directly, type in the password."
So they do.
"Well, Debbie?" Serena might then say. "How did it go?"
What will then ensue is Debbie's date of three weeks ago with John. Or was it Seth? No, wait. I think Seth was the one whose girlfriend told Debbie about "The Pleasure Zone." Oh, Hell's bells! Skip it.
The premise of this series is an Internet dating service. But it's no ordinary dating service. No, no! Serena, you see, knows just the right man--or woman, whichever the case may be--from the very first time she is told a few details about someone. What sort of details does Serena need to know? Well, for instance, in the case of Nikki ... "I'm looking for a man who's interested in more than just a casual fling."
"I understand perfectly," Serena would be likely to reply. "And I think I have just the right man for you."
All Cinemax's series--"Nightcaps," "Erotic Confessions," "The Best Sex Ever," "Passion Cove"... and last but definitely least, "The Pleasure Zone"--attempt to answer two basic questions. 1) How much of a story can be told in 28 minutes? 2) How many sex scenes can be squeezed into that time span?
"The Pleasure Zone" is the least successful at serving up the sort of "pleasure" it attempts to.
The music is nice, though. Herman Beeftink--Cinemax's main soundtrack man--is quite talented. Perhaps one day his talents will carry over to the big screen.