Studio: Wicked Pictures
Director: Michael Raven
Cast: Kimberly Kane, Keri Sable, Kirsten Price, Eva Angelina, Cassie Courtland, Avena Lee,

Portions of this review originally appeared on Fleshbot

Wicked's Collector's Edition of Michael Raven's The Visitors imagines what would happen to a small desert city - for our purposes, let us call it Desert City - when extraterrestrials come slumming for inter-species breeding stock.

I'll tell you what I wanted: a probing. I got one.

What is refreshing about this movie, and not only because it is different but because I think this is the way it should be, is that each of the required sex scenes (from everyone you'd expect to be in one) comes logically.

An on-the-scene news report of lights in the sky transitions to a dad and his daughter (Kimberly Kane) watching late night TV. Do aliens exist? Kane goes to bed. Meanwhile, younger sister Tonya (Kirsten Price) is getting it on with her boyfriend in the back of his pickup. So far, the only thing that is amiss about this movie is why such great breeding vessels haven't moved to Los Angeles.

The balance to be struck between reviewing a feature porn movie and a non-porn movie is how well the former lives up to its aspirations. With The Visitors, the aspirations are apparent. Had she been wearing slightly more pants, cover model Keri Sable (now out of the adult biz and back in Buffalo, we hear) could be any hottie appearing on a box set from the SciFi Network. The packaging is perfect; it says the contents aim high.

Then there is the acting. Porn stars are not supposed to be good actors. Cagey directors will, with sleight of hand involving voiceovers, get around non-practical elements of the script. When the performers are not up to the script and the director proceeds without considering the audience, the results are pathetic.

Raven worked around all this by directing the cast like actors. Non-sex scenes lead to thoughts of "I'd sure like to see her naked" rather than "Don't quit your day job".

But back to the movie. Price and her boyfriend finish. They talk afterwards. They get back in the truck and, well, some aliens show up.

Whereas Pirates' special effects left one with the impression that there were effects only as far as the money lasted, the effects in The Visitors are very pared down. The low-fi approach is necessary for budget purposes but it also forces us to pay attention to the movie more.

That is where The Visitors sometimes breaks down. Paying attention to it like one would a mainstream film reveals its limitations. The script, for one, should have been pruned. A campfire conversation among a group of people about to have sex contains conversational nuggets like, "Doctors call it 'lost time'", and "What? And leave the safety of the fire?"

Keri Sable tells the story of lost time. Her boyfriend doesn't believe her, but they fuck anyway. One by one, the campfire friends are picked off as they stray. A bright blue light with eyes in it. Returning to the abandoned fire, Sable informs her boyfriend calmly that "It's the Visitors". (Cue Visitors.)

Meanwwhile, Kimberly Kane's boyfriend ("He's a good man," her father says) comes home from the job early. He is still wearing his hard hat. They have sex before he reveals something strange to her.

The sheriff finds Sable wandering in the dark.

"They came," she said.

"Who came?" he asks.

"The Visitors." (Cue Visitors.)

Turns out the Visitors have their eyes on Kimberly Kane. Of all the people in this movie who should be shown being probed, Wicked chose the right one. I won't tell you how the movie ends, but I will say it doesn't make sense.

Regardless, The Visitors is an ambitious movie and an often scary and sexy one. Especially with the probing.

Studio: Platinum X
Director: Jake Malone
Cast: Sasha Knox, Jamie Elle, Kaci Starr, Chelsea Rae, Cherry Rose

Portions of this review originally appeared on Fleshbot

I thought it was very funny when pal and wardrobe advisor The Real Violet Blue™, in response to my question "What did you have for breakfast?" said, "Dirt Pipe Milkshake #27".

"All that and a sense of humor, too?" I marvelled.

Imagine my surprise when a box arrived with tonight's review material. Turns out Miss Violet was only taking part in the noble tradition of adding fictitious sequels to porn titles.

Just the idea of a dirt pipe milkshake, even if one doesn't know what such a thing is or entails, conjures some florid pictures.

First some terminology that leads the scholar up to this extreme sex act:

FIP (Fake Internal Popshot). In cable movies, when ejaculate cannot be shown, this is what the guys "work up" to. Believe it or not, there are some parts of the world where the sex act concludes internally, rather than all over someone's face, hair, chest, or bone china.

Creampie. This is for romantic pragmatists who believe that sperm belongs in the vaginal area but who also think that the viewer should see it. Thus the creampie, usually the result of a gangbang, is when we see the reults of the ejaculate left behind as its more ambitious counterparts travel up the birth canal to seek and fertilize eggs.

So the dirtpipe milkshake is an anal creampie.

Sasha Knox begins the festivities. She speaks to director Malone, who is also filming and is offscreen. Like other movies of this type, it is often difficult to hear Malone, and we're so busy looking at the statuesque Knox that the voice is a distraction.

Now when I say that Knox is fucked every which way, just believe me. She is beset upon by two dudes, John Strong and Michael Stefano, who either take turns or just doubly penetrate her in a series of different positions, one of which involves Knox being sandwiched between the two standing men.

When each deposits his seed in her rectum (this is known as an ass baby), she squirts it out and licks it off a mirror. Her makeup barely runs.

Now I'm all about efficiency. I would have just shot it on the mirror. But whatever.

Next up is Jamie Elle. While she only has to deal with one person (Stefano again), she is bent this way and that, and has slightly less cushioning than Knox. The true Cirque de Soleil moment is when she sits on her neck with helicoptering legs and Stefano squats over her to deliver a pile driver.

Cherry Rose begins the next scene with submissive biker-about-town Jim Orlando. "You piece of shit," she says repeatedly, spitting at him and pinching his nipples. "I won't let you watch me fuck." She walks back upstairs and is made to crawl across the floor for another man. They so stole this from "Coriolanus".

Rose keeps her leather jacket on for a large part of the scene. She is a tough girl, you see, and we are made to believe she's got it coming. She is double-teamed in the bedroom at the end of the upstairs hallway. Since no mirror is handy, she eats her cum ration off a standard plate.

Kaci Starr is bound and gagged, masturbating with a free hand on the patio of a house overlooking the San Fernando Valley. "Are you a whore?" asks director Malone. "Mmmph," she says, obviously.

"Turn around and yell to the world that you're a whore," he says.

"Mmmph mm mmph!" she yells dutifully.

Finally, he takes her gag off.

"I'm a whore!"

She is brought inside and fucked on a hardwood floor. The variation in this scene is that her partner comes in a funnel that is placed in her ass.

Finally, bespectacled Chelsea Rae ("She looks like a Vogue model ... fucking herself in the butt," Malone says) is joined by Manuel Ferrara in the title's least wacky, most accessible scene. Don't get me wrong - she still squirts come out of her ass and eats it; there's just no spitting.

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