Studio: Hustler
Director: Richard Hamilton
Cast: Jessica Jaymes, Hillary Scott, Samantha Ryan (Kurt Lockwood's girlfriend of one year, so you know), Sandra Romain

A well-made, straight to the point wall-to-wall with just enough in the background to remind us that Larry Flynt is rich, the thoughtfully (but not self-consciously) art-directed Jessica's Jet Set shows off the talents of stacked and capable badass Jessica Jaymes.

This movie doesn't waste any goddamn time. Talon, whom brunette (not blonde) Hustler contract girl Jessica (not Jesse) Jaymes (not Jane) goes after is half hard three seconds into the movie. He fucks her through mesh stockings on a weight bench - just like I do, and jerks off onto one of those flashing boxing ring lights, which she licks clean. Her animated jet takes off from a backdrop of St. Louis and deposits her in an even cheesier Paris backdrop, where an accordionist plays and Tommy Gunn waits in a striped shirt and red bandanna and beret. Gunn jerks off onto a 14" scale model of the Eiffel Tower and she licks it clean.

Off from the Alps, then, to some Euro disco, where Sandra Romain is zestily double-teamed by two slick party boys. By now I'm wondering what they are going to jerk off onto, because people kept missing Jaymes' face. Surprise! They come on her face.

The jet takes off again and we are now in a well-lit bathroom with Jaymes and Samantha Ryan. They bond over a crystal dildo.

For a change of pace, the plane then flies over the Great Plains and lands near Hillary Scott, who bellows throatily through a major ass-fucking from Jean Val Jean (why wasn't his scene in Paris?) and doesn't once say "Stop, that hurts." He jerks off into a tumbler and she drinks the contents.

This movie is packed with healthy-looking girls doing wonderful things. Bravo.

Studio: Private
Director: Alessandro Del Mar
Cast: Silvia Saint, George Uhl, Angel Dark, Francesco Malcom, Horst Baron, Nikki Blond, YoKasta

People can be forgiven for having low expectations of porn. As long as the sex is good, that's all that matters. That is why it is doubly cruel when a film aims high on the non-porn trappings (the story for example) and fails in both those and the sex.

The Spain-based label Private is known for interesting locales and long-leggedy women. High production value and a three-act script do nothing to make Robinson Crusoe on Sin Island any better than a tepid couples' movie with weak scenes.

The film is told in flashback via Robinson Crusoe's diary, which is novelized by Daniel Defoe. This is kind of interesting in a "Once And Future King"-type way.

Robinson Crusoe is unlike Grizzly Adams. First off, he admits having killed a man. Also, it's not the mountains he winds up in but an island that looks on the map like a widened, flattened Australia. Finally, he doesn't so much escape as he gets shipwrecked. In a voiceover, he describes his destination as a "dessert island", foreshadowing the eye candy we hope awaits him.

Private doesn't worry too much about getting to the sex scenes in this movie, favoring instead a long setup featuring Crusoe hobbling all around the island because, I think, the production could not find him shoes that would fit the rest of his 18th century costume. He is washed ashore with a few planks of wood and a trunk containing candles (the two stubs he unloads last a very long time), a telescope, a gun, a pen, ink, and paper. It's like Riven with worse dialogue.

He wiles away his time thinking of more pleasant things, like comely peasant girls who blow him but look at the camera. These scenes are unsatisfying. All the girls remain partially dressed, as if the the Europe of his dreams was filled with Mormons. He also has frequent flashbacks of the man he killed in self-defense.

For eight years (he keeps forgetting) Crusoe lives alone on the island. Why is it called Sin Island again?

Finally a group of well-dressed ESL pirates show up (their map says Blood Island), leading a slave girl and a fey captured French nobleman. They are there to search for treasure. The slave girl escapes, finds Robinson, fucks Robinson, and is named Sunday. Her porn name is YoKasta.

The pairings are arbitrary and the sex is listless (except, but just barely, for Angel Dark). I have a hard time believing that's a European thing. I guess the Euros like weak couples' films, too. Why don't Europeans seem to be having fun while having sex? Is it all that socialized medicine?

Anyway, Crusoe escapes with the nobleman's mistress and sweet, doomed Sunday. They are all rescued but I guess Crusoe ditches Sunday despite her teaching him how to love again.

It's a dumb movie.

Studio: Excessive Entertainment/VCA
Director: Mason
Cast: Her Sluts (Kami Andrews, Hillary Scott, Taryn Thomas, Missy Monroe, Georgia “Dirty” Southe, Kelly Wells, Chris Charming, Sascha, Tony T, Denis Marti, Brian Surewood, Joe Rock, Brandon Iron)

This, like all porn movies, only strengthens my commitment to my husband.™

An informal poll shows me to be, yes, just fucked up enough to write this review. While many readers will naturally assume I allude to a general way of being, I really must clarify that I am specifically referring to the fact that I am drunk.
Enough.

Or am I: Here’s your bit o’ feisty-ass fucking (better: feisty assfucking?) I recall from the good days of early-aughts, we-support-natural-bodies-at-AVN gonzo: utterly filthy little animals’d scare the shit out of you if you could remove your hands from your genitals long enough to notice, Mr. President.

Opener pits Keeeeee-raaaazy Kami Andrews (note straightjacket) against Chris Charming & Sascha, and for the first moments the boys seem outclAssed... but(t) not for long. The fucking’s long, hard and punishing, with stellar scary breath control play courtesy of an industrial roll of shrinkwrap. Found objects make great bondage tools; all you do-it-yourselfers, take notes. Charming & Sascha do as the lady says, fucking the cum out of her in a grueling DP that would put many a contract star in the hospital.

Not for the fainthearted... and you ask why I drink. Hillary Scott. I believe the press release said something about how she looks to be the most innocent of the bunch--wait, here it is. “Hillary is so innocent--and she's the nastiest one of them all!” In actuality, no, but As Nasty As She Is so artfully juxtaposed with As Innocent As She Seems must have ripped a hole in the space-time continuum. What’s utterly in the pink as regards the whole business is how Tony T just about kills the willing gagger with his cock, but after; after, people, he’s like, so tender. Just so fucking tender with her.

I’m crying.

It’s time for something completely different when Taryn Thomas brushes up against a Best Couples Scene (ugh) in her kissy kissy pairing with Denis Marti (are they dating?). Genuine heat renders this an acceptable breather in between all the throat-fucking-to-throwing-up, cum-swapping, DP, ATEverything, squirts-r-us goingson surrounding it.

Fucking slut Missy Monroe brings herself to a gushing climax in about three seconds flat to dampen out an offending cigarette in the forest, bless her Woodsy Owl. However, the fire continues to rage as she comes... er... upon hardworkers Brian Surewood (dude, that beard) and Joe Rock, proceeding to vandalize their dicks with her mouth (why no fucking? You’ll almost forget to ask, watching her suck them off... almost).

Finally, covergirls Georgia “Dirty” Southe and Kelly “Fucking” Wells want to be flight attendants--or this is what famously mouthy Brandon Iron accuses them of when he gets a gander at their tutus, breast-baring latex waist-cinchers and elbow-length gloves. I wonder what gave it away? Great, GREAT scene follows, where everybody does just about everything to everybody else that anybody can do to a body, not quite neutralizing the acute urp-factor in the prolonged cum-swap that follows.

In the vein of constructive criticism, I guess it might do to suggest that five scenes delivering the punch that only three had here would rocket anyone’s mercury on into the stratosphere, over and over and over. Directrix Mason, present as P.O.V. cam, knows dirty; after only a little time with one of her Sluts, you will too. Fantastic shooting, quick-n-tight editing, fabulous packaging--it’s so great to see real porn again.

xox
Eugenie Brown