Nevertheless continues to pursue her until an incredible chain of events brings Cushing, Liza and Claire into a love triangle that is broken only by a curious twist at the end of the picture, which we'll not reveal here.

Firestorm is epic in its incomparable production values, daring script, remarkable performances-and blinding sensuality. The film is a tale of sexual obsession, but the true obsession lies in Cecil Howard's camera eye. As further proof of Howard's craftsmanship, he has spared no effort to make every physical and theatrically emotional move count. In one very sensual flashback-within-a-flashback sequence, for example, Jackson partakes in an anything-goes foursome with George Payne, Sharon Kane and Michael Bruce. The stroking, sucking and penetration among the group seem to wind and flow to a point at which the bodies take on the shape of a multi-limbed erotic reptile, feeding itself in some sort of carnal ritual. It is a breathtaking scene.

Elsewhere in Firestorm we are introduced to a hitherto-unseen sexual kitten named Rikki Harte. This very buxom, platinum-haired newcomer sends off an aura that makes her seem part decadent debutante and part street-whore sleaze. She is seen sparingly in the film, almost teasing the audience into wondering how and why such an uncommonly inviting morsel happened onto the screen for a mere extended cameo. Surely we will be seeing this lovely young lady again, hopefully in a role wherein her bounteous physicality and curiously refined sexuality will be utilized to the orgasmic ultimate.

From its bold and unusual scope to its hauntingly beautiful musical score, to its boundless passion and hard-core surrealism, Firestorm is an X-rated film that stands above its contemporaries and lays new groundwork for the serious future of good erotic cinema.