Russ Meyer, the Barnum of the skin-flicks,has recently been grinding out his sexploitation films under the imprimatur of major studios. He now follows the thunderous vulgarity of Beyond the Valley of the Dolls with a tepid adaptation of Irving Wallace's best-seller about an obscenity bust, The Seven Minutes.
Meyer struts his usual cinematic stunts (blisteringly fast cutting) and visual diversions (actresses constructed like goodyear blimps), but to little avail. The leading roles are portrayed by unknowns who are likely to remain so,and the movie mostly takes place in the courtroom instead of the bedroom,an...
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