Delightfully awful “Thriller” about a leggy blonde going undercover to catch a gang of bad guys and gals that are fleecing rich people somewhere in New Jersey and getting them hooked on drugs as well. Yes, the acting is really as bad as you may have heard. Cheri Caffaro says her lines with little conviction, yet she is one of the better thespians involved. I just loved the flashback scenes she goes through that are suppose to be so poignant but turn into being pure dreck – and a real hoot. Caffaro knows something about hoot, well, hooters that is. And so does the rest of the female cast. The detective helping Caffaro, William Grannel, has little acting talent either, but the worst performance which is so bad it becomes camp is by Duane Tucker as Rex Halsey, the guy that is the mastermind behind all the bad doings wearing a neck scarf throughout and has at least four buttons undone on his shirt. Everything he says he seems to be saying with such conviction to the audience as he madly overacts – rolling his eyes and saying pronouncements with facial gestures in the foreground of some of the cheapest sets I have seen in a film in some time. We do get many, many girls in various stages of undress though. The script is implausible. The budget super-cheap. With all its defects – and they are legion – I too enjoyed Ginger and look forward to seeing the two sequels. This movie is definitely a product of the 70s, a time when filmmakers could virtually and would do virtually anything they thought would be provocative. No PC here – and I find it refreshing. Movies today are so scared to walk the fine line that they have become flat in many ways. Ginger isn’t flat(you gotta see it to believe it) at all. It is a guilty pleasure to be sure but one that I found very entertaining and was laughing with and about it from start to finish.