With NAKED BOYS SINGING, you get what you pay for. Plonk your arse down in a cinema screening Snakes on a Plane, and you can be reasonably confident that there’ll be a plane with some snakes on it. NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD suggests a movie involving zombies to some capacity, probably nocturnal ones. And any film with the word “Paris” in the title can be strongly inferred to be about France, unless it’s PARIS, TEXAS or ONE NIGHT IN PARIS, in which case you’ll be confused and appalled, respectively. When watching NAKED BOYS SINGING, if you expect a cornucopia of choirsome cockage, you won’t be disappointed. Ten guys come out onto the stage, get their dicks out and sing for ninety odd minutes. While the one-joke concept would work better in a format shorter than the endowments of the actors, gratuitous nudity is gratuitous nudity is gratuitous nudity.

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