The London's swinging sixties are examined in this surprisingly chaste and conservative documentary. Loosely traveling from one 'underground' happening to another; we see hookers, women exercising in high heels, electrolysis, hair transplants, bellydancing, and beatniks. It also features many dreary musical numbers that were probably seen as completely unfashionable when this creaky, artificial, and possibly staged documentary was originally released. Attempting to be salacious and shocking; London In The Raw comes off as haughty, uncool, and detached, sort of like someone's faintly puzzled grandfather commenting on the whippersnappers and hoodlums and the things that they do. London In The Raw should have been named Mutual Of London's Mild Kingdom.
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