Produced by Picture Music International, and distributed by Vestron video to the home/rental market in late 1984, this is a collection of eleven "unrated" (ergo, "R") music videos circa that time. The group of artists represented is rather random, reflecting the fact that the sole criteria for inclusion in the compilation was the presence of nudity, not the artist or performance.
What one therefore experiences is a rather arbitrary collection of now dated "peek-a-boo." Production values range dramatically, from rather slick (Duran Duran's "The Chauffeur," a coolly stylish albeit meaningless little film noir, and Queen's "Body Language," a tight, artsy presentation that perfectly complements the song) to "hack-artiste-with-a-camcorder" (Peter Godwin's "Images of Heaven" a classic, pounding synth-pop anthem which is unfortunately ruined by cheap, boring treatment).
Dwight Twilley -- a talented artist whose career has consisted of almost-but-never-quite breaking through -- comes off as an appendage in "Girls," a textbook example of early thin-storyline music video (football players staring through locker room peepholes at the cheerleaders next door). Frankly, that comes off as art compared to the two videos from O'Bryan ("Lovelite" and "Breakin' Together,") both woefully dated examples of generic R&B from a now forgotten footnote of the late 70's "Soul Train" era.
Actually, the early 80s element is best represented by "Screaming In My Pillow," the clip by SSQ (a short-lived synth pop group of the period). Vocalist Stacey Swain (a.k.a. Stacey Q) sings vapidly on a pastel set, as the editing cuts back and forth between that and her writhing in soft-focus, soft-core form with an anonymous partner. The two pieces by the Tubes ("Sports Fans" and "Mondo Bondage") are stereotypically Fee-Waybill-over-the-top, and leave the viewer wondering exactly what the market for such videos -- featuring full frontal male nudity --were back then; certainly not MTV, VH1 or NBC's "Friday Night Videos."
The tape culminates with "Gimme, Gimme Your Lovin" by Helix, an overblown, tacky set piece for a forgettable metal band which uses a very thin "Miss Rock Fantasy" pageant storyline as an excuse for a massive display of gyrating topless models (apparently recruited from the porn industry; I've heard that the cast of women in this piece apparently consists of a literal "whos' who" of stars from that sector circa 1983). Watching this, one is less titillated and again more left wondering who on earth wrote the check to produce it. Then again, given the smarmy grins of the band as the women bump and grind around them, one suspects this may have all simply been about assuaging certain egos.
What one therefore experiences is a rather arbitrary collection of now dated "peek-a-boo." Production values range dramatically, from rather slick (Duran Duran's "The Chauffeur," a coolly stylish albeit meaningless little film noir, and Queen's "Body Language," a tight, artsy presentation that perfectly complements the song) to "hack-artiste-with-a-camcorder" (Peter Godwin's "Images of Heaven" a classic, pounding synth-pop anthem which is unfortunately ruined by cheap, boring treatment).
Dwight Twilley -- a talented artist whose career has consisted of almost-but-never-quite breaking through -- comes off as an appendage in "Girls," a textbook example of early thin-storyline music video (football players staring through locker room peepholes at the cheerleaders next door). Frankly, that comes off as art compared to the two videos from O'Bryan ("Lovelite" and "Breakin' Together,") both woefully dated examples of generic R&B from a now forgotten footnote of the late 70's "Soul Train" era.
Actually, the early 80s element is best represented by "Screaming In My Pillow," the clip by SSQ (a short-lived synth pop group of the period). Vocalist Stacey Swain (a.k.a. Stacey Q) sings vapidly on a pastel set, as the editing cuts back and forth between that and her writhing in soft-focus, soft-core form with an anonymous partner. The two pieces by the Tubes ("Sports Fans" and "Mondo Bondage") are stereotypically Fee-Waybill-over-the-top, and leave the viewer wondering exactly what the market for such videos -- featuring full frontal male nudity --were back then; certainly not MTV, VH1 or NBC's "Friday Night Videos."
The tape culminates with "Gimme, Gimme Your Lovin" by Helix, an overblown, tacky set piece for a forgettable metal band which uses a very thin "Miss Rock Fantasy" pageant storyline as an excuse for a massive display of gyrating topless models (apparently recruited from the porn industry; I've heard that the cast of women in this piece apparently consists of a literal "whos' who" of stars from that sector circa 1983). Watching this, one is less titillated and again more left wondering who on earth wrote the check to produce it. Then again, given the smarmy grins of the band as the women bump and grind around them, one suspects this may have all simply been about assuaging certain egos.
