My Tutor is pure sexual fantasy at an insultingly low level of intellect and redemption value. Whether it's Crispin Glover receiving ministrations from a prostitute, or Matt Lattanzi getting prurient peeks at his tutor during a late-night nude swim, it's clear that My Tutor is a bunch of money shots connected together by flat dialogue. It's also another example of the tendency among teen comedies of the 1980s to sexualize any setup, at a level not far removed from actual pornography, at least in terms of its narrative believability. Screenwriter Joe Roberts does try to throw in some extra exposition near the end, attempting to soften it into a real mentor story with soul, but that's not really fooling anybody. It's not that these characters shouldn't be preoccupied with sex, it's just that My Tutor handles their obsession so broadly that it becomes a crass, single-minded enterprise.