Detective Tony Rome (Frank Sinatra) returns to the screen after his self titled debut, this time it's a film that's played for ermlaughs. While on a diving trip, Rome finds the body of a blonde beauty at the bottom of the sea, her feet as you might expect, encased in cement. Rome immediately on the case after being hired by man mountain Waldo Gronsky. Rome finds himself immediately at risk as he has to investigate some mafia types, who turn the tables on him and he is himself found to be the main suspect, he must now go on the run and hope to solve the case alone. The portly Sinatra tries hard to sell us the lame jokes and make us believe he is a good detective, oh and not to mention being sexually attractive to the foxy Raquel Welch, but he fails miserably, in this ham fisted vanity project. The frankly laughable denouement that surrounds every female is quite astounding, every woman in the film is a dither head, who likes bending over is front of the camera, Director Douglas of course obliges in zooming in on the cracks of their asses each time as they flex their posterior muscles. There's even a ridiculously campy gay character that beggars belief, this was a film made by "real men" for "real men" to reaffirm their own flagging sexuality, it's a shameful shambles.