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July 2000 Columns
xmag.com : July 2000 : Pornos for Primates

Pornos for Primates - adult movie review by Rex Breathes

RexMercy; Franchise Pictures; Dir., Damien Harris; Stars: Ellen Barkin, Peta Wilson, Wendy Crewson, Karen Young, Marshall Bell, Julian Sands

I was low on porno this month (kidding) so I thought I’d snatch up this scintillating, new erotic/suspense straight-to-video, Mercy, from Hollywood Video. And we open with homicide dick Ellen Barkin—sporting a nice, new rack—investigating a good looking corpse. Close-ups of the woman’s beautiful dead feet. Kinky. Meanwhile, Julian Sands, of Warlock ad infinitum fame, is scene as a psychiatrist fucking his lonely, pushing-40 female client. I’ve got a clue for you: she’s either the killer or she’s going to wind up dead. Back at the murder scene ranch, Barkin discovers the comely corpse was into kinky sex—naughty pics and S&M regalia in a locked briefcase. People who are into kinky sex always get killed... or so Hollywood says. ‘Cause they deserved it. After seeing the pictures, Barkin has to hit the bar and pick-up a mechanic, Stephen Baldwin. His role is limited to just this cameo; he was smart enough to get out of Mercy while the getting was good. Still, he has enough screen time to deliver this gem to Barkin over a beer: “I’m a mechanic; I fix things,” eying her heaving bosom. Brother.

Barkin (detective Palmer) starts visiting the high-class S&M joints. Looking like she might nod-off at any second, Palmer delves deeper into the world of perverted, high-risk sex. Ooh, scary! Thank God Peta Wilson (La Femme Nikita TV fame) shows up to set Palmer straight about the high society, lesbian BDSM circuit. Peta Wilson does what every high class junky whore must do: chase the dragon while crying over pictures of her little sister, and then go shopping at Sak’s.

Karen Young gets on Julian Sand’s couch to recount fond memories of her step daddy. Talking about pedophilia in the pool makes her nipples hard. Mercy proselytizes that women who were sexually abused by dad turn into rough sex lesbians who only turn to men when they need some real pain. And still my balls hang low.

Finally, we get to see Peta Wilson naked—and it’s worth the wait—doing a freak dance by the window for a guy that gets off playing Lee Harvey Oswald. Using paint bullets, he assassinates Wilson from afar, as she dances around the room dressed like a Saigon hooker.

The jump edits in Mercy are merciless—like the director’s on crack or suffering ATD. Rent this to see Wilson, not Barkin’s new lifts above and below the neck. And don’t blame me if the dialogue punishes your ears.

“Do you know what I think sex is?” Wilson coos to Barkin (unfortunately, while Wilson is clothed). “A thrill. It’s like putting your head in the mouth of the only lion in the cage who’s totally unpredictable.”

I swear, people in Hollywood are getting paid to write this stuff. And showing us no mercy. Now that I’ve got my Gay Pride Weekend review out of the way, let’s bring on the smut, boys.

Maxed Out 19; Max Hardcore productions; Stars: Gabriella, Cloey, Maren

First of all, Max Hardcore is one idiot fuck and I can prove it. Using some cheap Croatian dupe lab, no doubt, means I wind up with one lousy video that doesn’t slo-mo or freeze frame for shit... so I can write this review, toilet head. The middle-aged Max, who gets uglier every time I see him, goes around the world with his camcorder fucking itty bitty hard bodied women. Now, that’s not a bad idea, per se. It’s the fact that we must suffer his ugly ass and idiot fuck rantings to watch these tiny treats.

In scene two, he finds a little girl (who says she only weighs 90 pounds) and tells her to say, “Am I sucking your cock right, mister?” as he not-so-playfully pulls on her pigtails. Get the picture? After that, I have no idea what naughty-little-girl things he makes her say to earn her pay, because the sound on this made-in-Croatia tape is suddenly shot to hell in a fuck basket. But I can tell by the vacant look on little Cloey’s face that she is bored out of her skull.

Adding insult to injury, Max shamelessly solicits new girls for his films between segments, promising them fortune and movie star fame. I shit you not. Yeah, with a speculum, for Chris’sakes, hangin’ out of your bald pussy while he fucks your ass. Cloey smokes a cigarette (which she is delightfully unable to inhale) while Max plumbs her ass with the above-described speculum technique. While all this is going on, Cloey manages a look of perturbed pain. Like, ‘when the fuck is this gonna be over, pal.’ None-the-less, she dutifully delivers her little girl lines at Max’s prompting. A real actress. Just like in his talent search promos. Rent this series for the hard-bodied little girl routine and tune-out Max. Don’t even try to figure out the speculums.

There’s something about a woman in a carefully tailored rubber dress... wearing an elaborate gas mask, that’s like a visit to a World War I Museum of Perversion.

White room Part III; Marquis Video; Dir., Peter W. Czernich (No Cast)

This film is to fetish what Andrew Blake is to mainstream porn. No one else will be able to touch what director Czernich has accomplished here. Or even want to. The opening shot of the cruel headmistress of this rubber palace is worth the price of admission. I have no idea who she is as the fine female participants go uncredited. Marquis puts out one of the most highly respected, fashion, glossy fetish magazines catering mainly to rubber enthusiasts. As in latex. Can you feel it. It’s so Armageddon. For fans of this fetish, there is no better magazine (Skin Too is a distant second). And, apparently, no better video.
White Room has segments that last too long and split second, mind boggling snippets you must freeze frame to appreciate. Czernich achieves an otherworldly edit with this technique... time slowing to a crawl, then hours lost in the blink of an eye. White Room is like stepping into a separate reality where the unimaginable can happen. Like the latex covered bathtub. And under the taut surface of the paper-thin see-through latex, there is a writhing female. Breathing through a snorkel poking out through the latex, her hands, face and body press up against the rubber skin. Trying to free herself or succumbing to unimaginable desires? Or both. In the white tiled bathroom, a black latex clad attendant uses a pump to suction the air out from under the latex lid, thus causing the rubber skin to cling obscenely to the naked, struggling, anonymous woman underneath. Then the latex bath attendant smooths the rubber over her body, carefully taking out all the creases. The woman underneath offers the outline of her shocked face and hands pressing futily against the rubber sarcophagus. In a final act of submission/trust, the attendant puts her mouth over the snorkel. Now the woman underneath is utterly dependent on the woman above to breathe air into her lungs; they share one breath.

A corseted woman, in thigh-high rubbers adorning a perfect body, is chained by her wrists to the ceiling of the white room. A rubber hood covers her head, leaving only her mouth open. She is tormented slow and sweet. There’s something about a woman in a carefully tailored rubber dress, cinched at the waist, teetering on stiletto heels and wearing an elaborate gas mask that’s like a visit to a World War I Museum of Perversion. While every scene doesn’t sizzle, the only stain on White Room is the English translation over the intermittent German narration. Couches made of black rubber spikes; torture tables built from hundreds of black rubber dildos; see-through nude latex body stockings. It’s all too beautifully macabre. Slow squeaky dance with death. There’s not a dry cunt in this video. Guaranteed.


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