Arrow Productions has a shit load of couples- type porn features in its vast catalogue and The Memoirs of a Chambermaid starring Krista Lane is a fine example of classic story-driven stuff from the ’80’s. Lane was one of those popular redheads from that era as is co-star Shanna McCullough. I can’t say for sure what happened to Krista but the only way you see McCullough these days is in Jim Enright’s house.

Krista, noted particularly for her conical tits which appear ready to shoot laser beams at attacking UFO’s, plays a romance novelist who rents an old Victorian mansion for inspiration. In the words of director M Night Shyamalan, don’t go making your location too inspiring or else you won’t be able to write. Which is just the thought that occurs to Krista after various efforts to inspire like salt baths don’t appear to work. Wondering around in the attic as all romance novelists eventually do, Krista harkens upon a diary written in 1887. And we use the word harkens because that seems to be an appropriate Victorianism to use in this context.

With a Twilight Zone-style punchline that seemed to be so popular with porn writing of that era, Krista scans various entries to discover that it’s author [McCullough] had a crush on the young lad of the house who bears a remarkable resemblance to Jan Michael Vincent before he discovered a vodka bottle.

And in her imagination, Krista interactively has an affair that’s real enough to get some amazing penetration shots. Meanwhile, McCullough seems to be a part of a randy household that reminds you of Upstairs Downstairs on Viagra. The other members- all porn actores who could really carry lines of dialogue- are Nick Random, Robert Bullock, Ona Zee and Rene Summers, wife of the feature’s director Eric Edwards. Now before you go looking for the seven positions and aerial maneuvers in each sex scene, bear in mind that romantic couples usually hug and kiss first, sky dive later. So don’t go screaming at me that the “Chambermaid” didn’t get a chamber pot crammed up her asshole.

But you have to admit, lovey-dovey is a nice change of pace. And as I look at the front cover featuring the said Jan Michael Vincent character displaying a shaved, tan lined man ass, I wonder what Kurt Lockwood would do faced with that prospect.