Joe Davian evidently has a following among a few porn fans and video distributors, but this departure for him into "light" comedy is a disaster even they (donning their masoch hats of the sadomasochist duality) don't deserve. Apparently the ghetto of fetish & BDSM was the only profession for which he was qualified.
In recent years many thousands of home-made videos, often in the horror genre, have flooded the market simply because they are so cheap to make. Davian's '70s movies were similarly no-budget, and his amateur style fits right in with that movement.
Title refers to a cigarette ad campaign trumpeted by an ebullient Marc Stevens, who plays his Jon Hamm role as if on speed. He tries to convince his boss J.B., played by Carter Stevens in a tongue-tied, unprofessional performance, of the surefire merits of selling the deadly ciggies, with Annie Sprinkle cast as B.J. (many unfunny jokes are attempted on this abbreviation), model for the campaign. The drawing of a woman reclining that represents the billboard is so crude it would have been rejected in a preschoolers' class project, yet Davian uses it over & over & over in the film as if for real.
Thoroughly dated approach has mock protesters from the educational community decrying the use of sex in marketing, when the issue of the cigarettes danger is completely ignored. Perhaps for Davian and his fellow pornographers the main danger in life had to do with accidents in the performance of S&M rituals involving electrocution, smothering, choking, etc., so the coffin sticks were just "cool" for them.
Most of the movie consists of blow jobs, with Stevens on loan from himself (usually directing his own stuff by now), getting plenty of head even if the viewer may not be as turned on as he is by that prospect. Sprinkle has very little to do and old Jake Teague as nominal bad guy is along for the ride as, like Stevens, another ugly old guy having sex on screen. The visuals are as ugly as in an S&M exercise, hardly conducive to comedy, and there is no ending, just Teague as a corrupt judge running away down the street after ending a commission study on the harmfulness of the ad campaign. An extremely dull orgy eats up most of the running time in later reels.
As with other Davian movies I've suffered through lately, the Flatt/Scruggs "Foggy Mountain Breakdown" banjo music plays liberally on the soundtrack at random, having no obvious (or even subliminal as far as I can speculate) relevance to the visuals. I assume the auteur just plunked it in to fill dead air.