One doesn’t expect much from a teen sex comedy, and yet nearly every movie belonging to the genre manages to disappoint even those low expectations, because in the course of delivering teen sex, the low-budge sleazoids behind movies like H.O.T.S. inevitably forget to deliver actual comedy—or, for that matter, much of anything beyond fleeting moments of titillation. In the deeply uninteresting H.O.T.S., several female students at a fictional college called Fairenville University—which, of course, is commonly abbreviated as “F.U.”—decide to get revenge after they’re refused membership in a snotty sorority because of nerdiness, poverty, or unattractiveness. They form a new sorority called H.O.T.S. and scheme to seduce every man on campus so the rich bitches of the evil sorority are left lonely. There could have been the germ of a satirical notion somewhere inside this idea, but in the hands of the soft-core panderers who made this movie, the premise is merely a reason for crude jokes about things like bumbling gangsters, an off-course parachutist, spiked food and the resulting gastrointestinal torment, unruly animals, a wet T-shirt contest, and, because nothing succeeds like excess, a game of topless football. (Admittedly, the last bit is impressive, after a fashion, for the sheer amount of flesh on display.) It’s a measure of this picture’s ambition that the biggest name in the cast is Partridge Family vet Danny Bonaduce, playing a would-be stud who ends up in bed with a seal. (Don’t ask.) The starlets in H.O.T.S. have attractive bodies that they’re not shy about displaying, so viewers craving loving shots of large breasts will thrill as D-cups runneth over. Viewers craving more than that will be left C.O.L.D.