Bargain-basement claptrap has female narcotics agent in Seattle about to blow the whistle on international heroin ring. Two well-directed action sequences (one involving a speed-buggy, the other a helicopter) saves this tacky flick from turkey status. Connie Stevens tries hard, but her girlish voice hasn't caught up with her body (most often she sounds like she's trying to be coquettish). Her hair is a marvel though: frosted wings that do most of her acting for her. Masochists will revel in one sequence which typifies the rest: as Connie's lover is grinding away, he is murdered and Stevens, realizing there's a dead man on top of her, opens her mouth as wide as she can and screams like Fay Wray; the killer comes into the room, hauls off and slaps Screaming Connie across the face like a cheap whore. It's almost as jaw-dropping as the Statement-Making finale, which is so self-important it goes beyond cheap laughs. * from ****
Review of Scorchy
