Nicholas Steele and his crew (notably mood-setter Saint) deliver a textbook Adam & Eve romantic video with "Women of the World", which entertains but lacks the something special that typifies the label's best work.
I was glad to see the title recycled: "Women of the World" back in 1964 as an Italian import was the first "Adult" movie I ever saw, taken by my dad to the Continental Art Theater in Cleveland. I later saw Russ Meyer hits there like "Finders Keepers, Lovers Weepers" and "Vixen" and was hooked.
This edition posits a World Cultural Society presided over by a very smug Steve Drake, where international lovelies congregate annually. The DVD liner notes are typically misleading, stressing some strange competition there that reads like Miss Teen America meets Fear Factor, but this never happens, just the gals showing off their beauty and humping various studs in attendance.
As Lifestyle Porn, the film succeeds, but does not hang together all that well as a narrative or drama. There are strange elements as in all early Adam & Eve efforts, but nothing that soars or could be considered a flight of fancy.
Among the more striking elements is an odd trio comprised of Syren (playing a girl from India), Bamboo (from Japan) and Dee (Lady of Spain), a whole lot of ethnicity. Anticipating "Hamilton" the mega-musical hit, they are introduced marching playing flute and drum dressed up as Revolutionary War soldiers. When they get down to interracial sex later, all's well with the world.
Much is made in Philip O'toole's script of a fairly pointless subplot which I followed but could not make sense of. Evan Stone is cast as a world-famous conductor, for which, in the manner of Jonathan Winters confronting a hat and improvising comedy characterization from it, he acts pompous and carries himself in a stuffy fashion. His protegee playing the harp is beautiful Aussie actress Jodie Moore, billed here mysteriously as "Little Jody" early in her career. For some reason she and her director Nick make no effort to have her properly simulate playing the harp with her hand movements - it's visually so amateurish as to destroy her early scenes. Fortunately her humping is up to snuff.
Perhaps the most interesting scene is Dee looking terrific in a typical white fencing outfit, replete with mask/hood, parrying with a man dressed in a similar but black costume. He is credited as Jean Luc Goddard, a fairly dumb tribute to the still active Nouvelle Vague pioneer who unintentionally has had considerable influence on the evolution of porno films, particularly from their technical rule-breaking proclivities as to editing and shooting styles. When he grabs his own dick for the fountain upwards money shot onto Dee's belly, Jean Luc is recognizable as Steven St. Croix, porn's all-tme great actor probably using a pseudonym since this constitutes one of his rare "no-acting-required" roles.
Perhaps the film might have coalesced had the competition for some crown premise hawked on the DVD box been followed, but instead the series of six sex scenes emerge as an end in themselves. Finale of Jodie seducing haughty Drake is a distinct anti-climax.
The mood music, costumes, glamorous femme stylings and other Adam & Eve production values hit the spot, but this time in service of a meaningless film.
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