The Bitch (1979) from Johnny Web (Uncle Scoopy; Greg Wroblewski)

Joan Collins and Jackie Collins had a pretty good thing going there for while. Jackie wrote sleazy chick-novels about powerful, rich, conniving women. These books made perfect film vehicles for, and guaranteed full employment for, her sister Joan. Joan acted in these films, presumably drawing in some additional fans with her name recognition, and even managing to draw in some male viewers with extensive nudity.

The challenge with a film like this is the same as the challenge with a softcore film. You either have to show plenty of hot sex, or have some pretty good sex in an interesting story. If you can have both hot sex and a good plot, you have a masterpiece of sexually-oriented cinema, but you can count all those masterpieces on one hand, so most films can only hope to deliver one or t'other.

You know a Joan Collins film isn't going to be the kind with lots of hot sex. Joan is one of those pseudo-upper-crusty types who tries to maintain her aloof dignity. The terms "hot sex" and "dignity" don't really go together. Hot sex is sweaty, uninhibited, sometime nasty, sometimes clumsy, always passionate, never aloof. The filmmaker, therefore, has only one way to succeed with a Collins vehicle. He must concentrate on a strong tease factor with a good storyline.

The film does deliver fairly well on "strong tease". Miss Collins gets topless several times, and flashes some buns. Several other females flash other body parts including pubic areas. The male star brought out Captain Helmet a couple of times.  In general, the tease would have been adequate to spice up a good story.

• There is 10-15 minutes of footage of people dancing to disco music. These are not expert dancers engaged in a showy demonstration of brilliant moves, ala Saturday Night Fever. These are not famous people. These are not good dancers. They are just random people dancing, If you want to imagine the experience, go to a dancing club with flashing floor panels and the dreaded disco ball. Sit there soberly and watch other people dance. Actually, that experience would be far better than watching this movie, because at least you can smell the women's perfume as they walk by.
• The sex scenes go on too long. In a film like this, where people have dignified, missionary position or straight woman-on-top sex under the covers, the sex scenes need to be brief. Show me whatever body parts I'm going to see and move on. Watching people undulate beneath a coverlet is not very entertaining, less and less so as it drags on.
• The background score? Well, imagine the worst possible disco songs like Disco Lucy, and That's the Way (Uh-huh Uh-huh) I Like It. The entire score for this film consists of that kind of crap. Not those exact songs, but other, non-famous but kinda sorta familiar-sounding songs.
• Cliff Klaven from Cheers as a disco denizen in London? Cliffy is dancing his heart out (a sight to see), and is also a criminal! Norm is not to be seen, which is a shame, because Norm's dancing would have added a much-needed sense of humor to this film.

• The editing is incomprehensible, rendering the entire film completely confusing. The director just didn't seem to care. There are several examples of bizarre editing, but one scene sums it up. Joan Collins and the male star arrive at a country home. The people who own the estate greet them outside the house. The men are wearing suit jackets. Neither the men or the women are wearing overcoats. It is obviously late summer or early autumn. They laugh, exchange pleasantries, and head inside to have a stiff drink. CUT. Now everyone is sitting outside in the snow, shivering.