SERIOUSLY. This is what the crap Hollywood still puts out?

Self-important, over-dramatic, uninspired.

It’s fine. It's literally the definition of a fine movie. You’ve seen it before, you know every beat and outcome before the characters even do. Only question is how much escapism you’re looking for.

Through painfully honest and emotional moments, the movie becomes irresistibly relatable

"Paul Raymond's Erotica" mainly documents nude-dancing routines at Raymond's London cabarets in the early '80s; which took the shticks of Paris's Crazy Horse club and turned up the gloss and the explicitness. The women strip out of fancy costumes and perform energetic, athletic moves on stage, some of which seem to be inspired by the disco-aerobics fad. The women dance alone, in groups, and sometimes with nude men. These numbers are interspersed with the story of Brigitte Lahaie as a French reporter learning to become a Raymond dancer-model, and having softcore sex scenes with almost everybody she meets (except Mr. Raymond). One of these scenes, in a sauna, features what might be the first on-screen erection in British film history.