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SEX CLINIC is not a good film, but like so many other mediocre & forgotten efforts (not a single self-appointed "expert" back in Blighty has submitted an IMDb comment) it has been revived by the porn video label Salvation Films and found its way to America's guilty pleasure known as Netflix.

Like most Netflix offerings, the blurb to "shill" the movie, which appears on the little white mailer, is thoroughly misleading, pegging the film as a homosexual S&M package. Instead we have a rather grim, downbeat tale of a beautiful massage parlor lady financially & emotionally mistreating her customers. Had this been made in NYC a few years later (see: Joe Davian, Phil Prince, etc.), the S&M would have been included along with a solid dose of verbal humiliation, also lacking here.

Georgina Ward makes a pretty if tepid villainess; it is interesting that her film and TV career ended soon after this turkey -she had made solid appearances on many fine shows like "Danger Man" and "The Avengers". She preys especially on older people, bilking a geezer (who unfortunately bares his unappealing backside for the camera) out of 500 pounds early in the show, and the main plot line involves her grabbing every penny that good ole Carmen Silvera can raise, latter having a lesbian crush on Ward.

The melodramatic plot line of revenge unravels in straightforward fashion, but what I found diverting (if only ephemerally) was the glum, dour tone of the movie. This is a case where rather talented, and some famous at the time (from their TV appearances) cast members are called upon to enact sleazy roles, and not in the typically comical, who cares? mode of so many British sex comedies of the period. I had a similar reaction watching BLUE BLOOD, a vanity film from 1973, in which it is almost shocking to see Derek Jacobi in endless bed scenes with beautiful unclad actresses - a man of his talent clunking through soft porn!

End result is indicative of a culture where, for historical reasons involving funding -see Alexander Walker's essential tome "Hollywood England" to get the background picture - movies were considered junk while theatre and TV reigned supreme in Blighty at this time. So actors would appear in demeaning roles in poverty-budget films without a second thought or even damage to their careers -bouncing right back to quality work on the boards or the tube.

"Clinic Exclusive", also known as "With These Hands...", is an outlier among British sexploitation flicks, and I wonder if that is why I had never heard of it until today. For one thing, it's not a comedy, which almost all British sex flicks were. We're spared the cringe-inducing comedy of the "Confessions" series. It also seems to try to tell a serious story.

This is the problem, as it so often is with movies that try to be erotic. Either the sex gets in the way of the story, or the story gets in the way of the sex. There's so much nudity in the first half of the movie that I expected a light sex-farce, with an unobtrusive plot that would just provide ample opportunities for the girls in the movie to show off their ample assets. In the second half of the movie, however, the nudity and sex takes a backseat to a serious, if rather silly, story.

The protagonist is a raven-haired vixen who works at an unspecified "clinic" in which she prostitutes herself to her clients and blackmails the richer ones with the threat of revealing their licentiousness. At first we follow Julie doing what she does, allowing herself to be molested by an old man whose butt the movie regrettably shows us, and also detailing a relationship she has with an older lesbian who is apparently in love with her. Also regrettably, the movie shows the harsh-featured, middle-aged Sappho topless.

In the second half of the movie, the protagonist seems to fall in love with one of her clients, and is shown questioning her amoral behaviour. The movie turns into a lesson in morals, which I'm pretty sure nobody who saw it expected, or wanted.

The last thing that sets this movie apart from all the other British sleaze that came out in the '70s is the performance by the main actress, Georgina Ward. It's actually fairly powerful. She's ideally chosen as a cold-hearted vixen who uses her sex appeal to ensnare people. It's only in the movie's bathetic climax that I didn't believe her, repeating words and phrases rapid fire as she does, like a robot gone haywire.

It's the screenplay that lets it down. It was written by Hazel Adair, whose "Virgin Witch" is a sleaze classic. Here, though, the story undercuts it, and if they wanted to make a sexploitation flick they should have kept it as light as it is in the beginning. If they wanted to make a serious movie about morality, they should have used that approach from the beginning.

A fellow poster has pointed out, somewhat acerbically, that no 'self-appointed expert' has seen fit to comment on this film. Well, I couldn't claim to be an expert, (and isn't every contributor to this site self-appointed?), but I have seen it, so here goes.

The relatively inventive plot from the pen of accomplished scriptwriter Hazel Adair, enacted by an experienced cast, results in an above average film of its kind. Adair, best known as co-creator of the soaps COMPACT, and the long-running CROSSROADS also co-produced the film with her business partner, the ITV voice of wrestling for over thirty years Kent Walton, under the joint pseudonym Elton Hawke.

The classy Georgina Ward is highly effective as Julie, alluring but extremely ruthless proprietor of the clinic where she attends to her wealthy clients' sexual as well as medical needs, prior to blackmailing them. This situation is developed with some skill, leading to an unexpected finale. The frequent nude and (extremely) brief sex scenes are blended smoothly into the plot and refreshingly lack that snickering, self-conscious approach that typify many similar British films.

The likes of Alex Davion, Vincent Ball and Tony Wright, turned up quite often in the sort of British 'B' of a few years earlier that this kind of film replaced to a certain extent, and in some ways resembles. Carmen Silvera is memorable in a minor, but pivotal role as Julie's spurned lesbian lover.

The poster at the top of this article is totally misleading. It gives the impression that this is a 1970s West German-style sex comedy; in fact it is a rather stern morality tale about a ruthless woman running a physiotherapy clinic, while mercilessly exploiting her customers, particularly an elderly love-starved lady who she bleeds white, taking her for every penny;eventually she gets her long overdue, well deserved comeuppance, courtesy of an even more experienced confidence trickster; anyone who watches consumer-advice tv programmes like the BBC's "Watchdog" will see the big con coming a mile off; the only surprise is the con-artist's motive. A pretty average criminal-caper B-movie.

I stumbled across this rather odd film quite by chance, 2025 on a TV channel that may number its viewers in hundreds?? ('Together TV').

The other reviews have done an excellent job describing it, though I can repeat that the Brit film business was on its knees at the time, with the odd exception, kept alive by a succession of the hugely popular Carry On series, and the acting stalwarts relying on TV to pay the bills (& panto perhaps?!) with the occasional appearance in say the 'Confessions' sex comedy series (& the assorted copycats). This movie would be like those, but unusually has no attempted comedy, it's played straight.

As has been pointed out, lead actress Georgina Ward got shamed out of a bid to be an MP due to lurid photos of her in this film. Which seems odd, looking back, the later wife in Allo Allo was in this, as was Windsor Davies, who had great sitcom successes. Acting royalty like Helen Mirren and Joanna Lumley also appeared in films that required their chests to get an airing, didn't harm their careers, hypocrisy rules OK (especially given the assorted crooks and perverts that have had seats in the Commons and Lords over the years?!!).

However, my major surprise was on seeing this IMDB listing, and discovering that Hazel Adair helped write it, with one Kent Walton also named. "Who" you may ask? Well, to many now elderly viewers, Walton was the famous commentator for years on the Sat afternoon coverage (ITV) of wrestling (70s, 80s?), telling us how Mick McManus had Jackie Pallo in trouble with a Boston Crab at the Fairfield Halls (Croydon), before they'd do it all again next week at Harringay Arena?! Seems very strange, but perhaps wrestling is just another form of screenplay with its own mini-dramas each week?!