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 Studio: Vivid
Director: B. Skow
Cast: Lux Kassidy, Missy Monroe, Chloe Dior, Samantha Ryan, Sara Stone, Kurt Lockwood, Nick Manning, Gram Ponant
Portions of this review originally appeared on Fleshbot
"Droppin' loads! Right in your mouth! Bang!" - Nick Manning, 2006
By way of introducing its newest contract star, Lux Kassidy, Vivid chose to make a reality-style movie within a movie that often played like an extended Behind the Scenes documentary.
This allowed Nick Manning to parody himself, Kurt Lockwood to be a ham, and Sara Stone to break my heart.
Lux Kassidy had never performed in a porn scene before, so her tryst with Samantha Ryan was fraught with significance. Luckily the scene was called "Deconstructing A Classic" and Kassidy and Ryan were trading Sapphic moves for pizza. The pizza guy was Kurt Lockwood.
"I was the Helicopter champion of 1984," Lockwood says, twirling himself around so the girls would kiss each other.
Lux's Life is like that. Framed as the behind the scenes segment of a movie by pretentious director Anderson Pop, viewers are treated to all sorts of porn star tropes, like Lockwood as the pizza guy and Nick Manning as Asshole Male Talent.
Manning drags around an assistant, played by Sara Stone, and forces her to carry bags. He treats her horribly and fires her as the cameras roll. This allows the roving BTS cameraman to exploit her vulnerability and talk her into a blowjob.
Stone has childbearing hips and a load-bearing chest.
I am sorry if I sound vulgar, but that is how I feel.
She left the industry soon after this movie was made and I am heartbroken.
One of the selling points of any DVD, but almost a requirement for porn DVDs, is a behind the scenes segment. These are often the most enjoyable parts of movies for me, because we're allowed a better look at what makes these performers attractive to human beings before the stars are shoehorned into the tease-strip-blowjob-popshot formula. In this movie that line is blurred but, luckily, the fake behind the scenes is very clever.
Gram Ponante makes a cameo as America's Beloved Porn Journalist in a scene between Missy Monroe (who is still in porn, Thank God) and Christian.
"I like food," Monroe says. "I like the way it tastes."
"Well I've got something for you to eat right here, er, Baby," replies Christian. Those were my lines. Watching them being realized was like watching a baby being born despite the presence of six or seven types of birth control.
Through it all there is Lux Kassidy. Named for Kirsten Dunst's character in The Virgin Suicides, Lux benefits from the casual style and is allowed to set herself apart from a movie (and a contract girl roster) full of blondes.
Her first and second scenes (ever) go so well that it makes me think going down on porn girls is easy. But as a Girls-Only performer, Lux feels the specter of expectation all around her, so it is no surprise that the very last word in Lux's Life is "anal".
Buy it.
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Latina Day Workers
 Studio: VCA
Director: Axel Braun
Cast: Daisy Marie, Sativa Rose, Annie Cruz, Melissa Martinez, Jesse Castro
Portions of this review originally appeared on Fleshbot
I was transported with joy when I saw this DVD had arrived, but also cautious and pensive. The danger of living in Porn Valley is succumbing to the belief that the limits of Los Angeles County are the limits of the world.
"I never had Latina Day Workers while living in Bogue Chitto," I thought. But then I reassured myself with the knowledge that shoving something down the throat of the culture is the only way to further Art.
Well allright. So the whole idea of Latina dayworkers gets thrown out the window immediately from the first scene. I envisioned financial blackmail, barely-disguised racial tensions, and revelations of the secret knowledge that all Hispanics possess.
Instead Steven French talks (not really) his way into Annie Cruz' house and she doesn't do too much to talk him out of it. I am typing as the scene plays in the background. They say director Axel Braun can make women squirt with his Lloyd's of London-insured hands - but he cannot make us feel.
They fuck on a velour couch. "I used to have a couch like that," I thought.
In the Behind the Scenes segment, Cruz (the dirtiest girl in porn, I believe) admits that she tips her own Latina dayworker 33 percent.
The next scene gets a little closer to what wage slave-minded viewers crave. Tiny Daisy is picked up on the side of the road by a man (Marco) who resembles the Devil. They speak Spanish the entire time. I have no idea what they're saying. This felt truer to me. One moment they're in his SUV and, with no transition, the next his dick is in her mouth. America will fall in love with Daisy if it hasn't already.
Next scene, same car, different driver. Jesse Castro is picked up outside the coffee shop with the same line that got Daisy to Axel's house.
The only scene true to the shocking depictions of class chauvinism comes when Scott Nails assumes that Melissa Martinez is an orange picker, when in fact she supervises them. But in that she gets into his (the same) SUV anyway, who is really to blame?
"Those don't look like orange trees," she says.
"Well, I've got a banana tree," he says.
The best scene is the last one.
(cue same car)
"Hey Girl, are you a day worker?" asks Jay of Sativa Rose.
"Yes,"she answers, and gets into Axel's car. They drive to a house and start fucking almost immediately. The money shot winds up on her breasts.
We were very excited around the office about this movie, which turned out to be less amusing than we thought. That was our fault, I guess, although each scene is solid and does exactly what a porn scene should, which is a tribute to Braun.
But the movie is not a tribute to the title, which promises more but just delivers a standard porn flick of VCA proportions.
This value-added set also contains a full-length "classic" Rocco Siffredi DVD that I did not watch, but the combination of the two, especially since one of the two contains Sativa Rose, is worth the price.
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 Studio: Pink Visual
Director: Alan Smithee
Cast: Lexi Love, Crystal, Daryll Hanah, Annie Body
Portions of this review originally appeared on Fleshbot
Porn's practitioners of professional squirting are few.
"She told me she squirts," one director told me on the set of his squirting movie. "But she doesn't."
In Pink Visual's Squirt Hunter 3, just like Michael Stipe says, everybody squirts.
There is no opening sequence in this movie which, like many of Pink Visual's titles, is culled from shot-for-the-Internet material. Instead, we get right into an interview with Lexi Love, who tells us that she found out recently of her squirting powers, when she thought she'd lost bladder control on a male scene partner.
"But not everyone can make me do it," she said, so she'd brought along someone special for the scene. This unidentified man remained, with varying degrees of success, for the other three scenes.
The banter between Love and this scene's director is, while not forced, useless. He stammers, he makes bad jokes, he acts like someone other than Love is the star of the scene. The role of the camera in movies like this is to be a surrogate for the viewer, and this guy makes the viewers sound like drooling idiots.
Before the pairing even starts, Love's scene partner tells the director to shut up.
But even when the scene is under way, the director will not be quiet. That is why this perfectly serviceable porn scene with the hardworking Lexi Love should be played with the sound down and, let's say, The KLF's "Justified And Ancient" album playing in the background.
Next comes Crystal. Crystal, if I may be bold, seems like perfect girlfriend material. But she does not look like a porn star (she looks, in fact, like Juliette Lewis). She might be the best friend of a porn star who the porn star might try out new positions with, and who, of the two, enjoys sex more, but she appears to freak out her partner.
Crystal squeals, Crystal screams, Crystal squirts. But her partner cannnot stay hard. If it weren't for the general whateverness of the two other guys in the room (her partner and the firector), this scene would be painful. Instead it just seems weak.
Daryll Hanah, a bit more mature perhaps, has a better go of it with the same guy. She squirts 18 times. The director howls all the way through.
Finally, Annie Body redeems the entire show. A one-woman redheaded reason to forgive renaissance faires, Ms. Body, 37, looks like the ghost of a porn star from the free spirited waitress era of movies shot on film and paid for by Organized Crime. She squirts more on her own than with her partner, and her Wife of Bath look and attitude made the scene transcend the cheap room it was shot in.
There is room for all sorts of porn, at all sorts of budgets, in the little area at the corner of our closets and/or buried under the tire swing. But that does not mean the low-cost productions need to have the director supplying the dialogue.
Buy it.
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 Studio: Adam & Eve
Director: Roy Karch
Cast: Lexington Steele, Vanessa Blue, Angel Eyes, Sydney Capri, Alexis Silver, Kapri Styles, Tee Reel, Nat Turner, Max Black
Portions of this review originally appeared on Fleshbot
One of the unexpected pleasures of watching more pornography than I ever thought possible is every now and then getting turned on by a scene. The adult market has expanded exponentially based only on myriad variations of people fucking each other, and so I usually stay interested by talking about lighting or how the movie might remind me of Jaws.
But from the first scene of Indigo Noir, with its short, simple (and sometimes silly) setups, the movie is all about delivering the same vital message as when the first porn movie was shot on video: Why don't I go out and get laid right now?
Roy Karch has been directing porn for about 10,000 years, and his sensibility varies between Timeless and Out of Date. The latter is not his fault; the only choking you'll see on one of his sets is when one of the crew members mistakes a craft services chicken finger for a mozzarella stick. And perhaps he might not know how best to exploit multiple tattoos and piercings but I think that is because he realizes, like we all do deep down, that they just get in the way.
But fucking has been fucking forever, and people still pretty much do it the same way. It's getting in there that's the problem, and this is where Karch's casual, to-the-point setups come in.
"People don't just walk in a room and fuck," Karch said. "Even in the fucking Seventies."
Indigo Noir is an "ethnic" high-end gonzo for Adam & Eve. The movie is introduced with a stylish blue/black credits sequence, then the fun begins.
Kapri Styles is lazily soaping herself up in a tub. Her nipples are perfect. Every now and then she casts a glance over at the shower, where partner Max Black is ignoring her. They don't talk. Have they been fighting? He gets out and spends an overlong time primping at the mirror, which would be funnier if one didn't get the impression that he's not acting. He's still not paying any attention to her, but she finally convinces him.
Getting filthy after bathing? Timeless.
One more note about this scene: either Black's cock is HUGE or Styles is two feet tall. It's a little disconcerting. My jealousy is only mitigated by the sneaking suspicion that it would take him longer to get inside Styles than it would for me...
Mr. Marcus interrupts Sydney Capri while she is masturbating. This is a recurring theme in Roy Karch movies. If you see him, you should ask if this has ever happened to him. Capri has been waiting for Marcus to get home and, when he does, he hardly notices her. Convincing him to put the goddamn phone away takes about 30 seconds.
Capri Got Back. Word. No Lie. For real. And Mr. Marcus is not wearing his trademark Red Sox cap so the air is not tinged with a sense of impending doom. Now and then she looks at him all nasty, which is a plus, because you know from the look that she doesn't mean it.
Lexington Steele and Vanessa Blue show up next. All Lex wants to do is play pool and she won't let him, perched as she is with a dildo on the billiard room couch. They have an excellent chemistry. In real life, they announced their engagement a month after this scene was shot. They broke up six months after that. The moral? Interrupting a man's nine-ball might have delayed consequences.
The charm of this scene is that, no matter the pornish trappings that seem impossible to avoid throughout Adultdom (I will start a No High Heels Club some day and you will join it), we still feel that we are watching a couple with some history, and that's nice.
The final scene is between Tee Real/T. Reel (there is no universal standard on spelling this guy's name) and British spitfire Alexis Silver. Silver is particularly saucy, and T. Real labors to seduce her as a bartender picking up on one of his patrons. It is the only scene in the movie in which a woman isn't busting the moves on an initially indifferent man.
Luckily, Real does not have to work that hard because Silver is, er, easy.
This is a solid piece of work that straddles porn's current Low Overhead trend and the "classic" era's penchant for giving a damn about the audience. The scenes that worked best had less dialogue, because either the performers should have been miked or the boom guy should have gotten in closer. In general, though, the little bit extra for lighting and comfortable locations paid off in a movie that did exactly what porn flicks should, with no distractions but a little thoughtfulness.
Buy it.
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 Studio: Hustler/X Play
Director: Will Rider
Cast: Hillary Scott, Alana Evans, Jasmine Byrne, Naomi, Jenna Presley, Victoria Sweet, Kat, Tommy Gunn, Melissa Martinez, J. Depth, Kurt Lockwood, James Deen, Johnny Castle, Marco Banderas
Portions of this review originally appeared on Fleshbot
This is the most important Britney Rears film ever. When popshot princess Britney Rears (Hillary Scott) uses an eBay-acquired time machine to travel to 1974, nothing is sacred - not even the Prime Directive.
Your historical notions of Britney Rears from the first two installments will be turned on their heads, set on fire, and then the fire will get its face comed on (I consulted my Strunk & White to make sure that usage was correct).
Britney winds up in the Hustler Studios, circa 32 years ago, and is mistaken for 70's star Bridget, co-host, with a man named Shafted, of a TV music program.
"Where am I?" she keeps saying, but she is caught up in the smoke and fat beats of "Shafted '74". I, too, was swept away; in that there wasn't a sex scene for about seven minutes, I'd forgotten this was a porn movie.
That is soon rectified when, backstage, "Shafted" director Tommy Gunn takes care of two below-the-line assistants in his dressing room. Hollywood never changes! The production staff did its work, too; when Gunn comes in the eye of Kat, she wipes it away before putting her fingers in her mouth. That would never happen today.
Many of the stars of this movie are of color. J. Depth as Shafted has some good lines, such as "'74 could be a good year for the bofe of us. I am the President of the United States of Love." Shafted, you see, likes to sample the talent. And I don't mean 'sample' like a hip hop song, because the Sugar Hill Gang wouldn't be around for a few more years, I mean 'sample' as in do sex with.
The voiceover narrator, who explains things after they have happened, makes love to his microphone.
"Man this is some serious SHIT," he says. "Britney and Jenny have no idea where the FUCK they are."
Britney and Jenny struggle their way through the show, trying their best to come to terms with the perils of Time. Only the release of sweet lovemaking will ease the tension, but director Will Rider and writer Jeff Mullen do not grant this to Britney. Yet.
Instead, a 3-on-1 scene featuringh a trio led by dancer Alana Evans descends on teen heartthrob Johnny Castle. The same thing used to happen to David Cassidy.
Finally, in order to get her time machine back, Britney submits to Shafted. She disappears in a puff of smoke and returns to Our Time, where her roommate has been lamenting to James Deen. "Do you need a towel?" he asks, for she still has 1974's soil playing about her face.
She realizes she has forgotten Jenny, and zooms back. Somehow, she winds up in her own house, but in 1974. Jenny is fucking "a Disco Inferno dude" (Marco Banderas), and Britney leaves her to fend for herself. Fend she does. She fends the living shit out of him. Yet her afro remains untainted.
Roommate Presley then consoles James Deen, who is still worried about the towel. Back in 2006, Britney services Kurt Lockwood. As the movie wraps up, we might catch a glimpse of the narrator getting on Britney's (actually Larry Flynt's) private jet.
It has all worked out fine for Brtitney in the end, but at what cost to the Space/Time Continuum? Fuck the Continuum, I always say.
Buy it.
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 Studio: Digital Playground
Director: Joone
Cast: Jesse Jane, Teagan Presley, Jana Cova, Sophia Santi, Kinzie Kenner, Marie Luv, Evan Stone, Tommy Gunn, Scott Nails, Jean Valjean, Marco Banderas
Portions of this review originally appeared on Fleshbot
There is so much sex going on in "Island Fever 4" that the viewer will be surprised that he/she didn't show up in the movie by mistake.
Shot on Bora Bora and the Bahamas, this wall-to-wall beaver picture leaves one wondering why the cast bothered to come back to Van Nuys at all, unless getting the sand removed required being airlifted from the island.
Island Fever 4 washes ashore in a 3-disc package loaded with extras. The first two discs contain the movie, which is comprised of (I think I have this right) 28 individual sex scenes. There are masturbation scenes, two-girl romps, boy/girl interludes and, every now and then, a four-contract girl extravaganza.
Directed by Digital Playground co-owner Joone with camera work by himself and "Jack's Playground" (et al) director Robby D., the movie actually seems like a merging of the styles of Robby D., with his arresting tableaux, and Digital Playground director Celeste, whose movies have little to no dialogue and are essentially moving postcards with music.
Joone blends these styles for a beautifully shot couples' fantasy.
Digital Playground's contract stars Jssse Jane, Teagan Presley, Jana Cova, and Sophia Santi are the stars of the show, but Kinzie Kenner and Marie Luv are brought in for a little extra zing. The scene structure is simple: shots of white sand, turquoise sea, sunsets, wind through the palm trees, mountains, and lots of sex on, in, or near same.
The viewer will never see a boom shadow, never hear awkward interview questions from behind the camera, never see choking, spitting, or roughness, and will wonder about how all that sand and salt water felt after eight days of shooting.
In its contract stars, Digital Playground has four distinct personalities. Jesse Jane is the leader of the pack. All sinew and girlie parts, Jane grabs the camera and doesn't let go. Teagan Presley seems like the wayward little sister and is a little devilish. This movie is an excellent vehicle for her. She said at the release party that she stutters; with no lines to memorize, Presley is free to express herself otherwise. Jana Cova is a softer, more wholesome blonde than Jane or Presley, and is strictly Girls Only.
Sophia Santi is the odd one out, and for me she steals the movie. Taller and darker than the three tiny blondes, Santi, a former Penthouse model, might have been chosen to round out DP's stable because her look is a little more exotic like, say, original Island Fever star Tera Patrick. Santi, towering over her labelmates, represents real women in the land of the spinners. She's not on the IF4 poster.
Every woman but Cova and Santi have a boy/girl scene, and standout segments include a four-contract girl soiree at the end of disc one, two loads that say "I love you" from Jean Valjean to Teagan and from Scott Nails to Jesse, a fun vignette in which Sophia bodily picks Jesse up out of the water, and a surreal headscratcher in which Jesse learns some form of Sand Bocce from the natives.
Also notable is the condom use limited to partners of Teagan. With all that sand, wasn't it uncomfortable enough?
I asked Jesse Jane what the cure was for "Island Fever".
"Is that a joke?" she asked.
"I guess so," I said.
With every bit of reality sandblasted away to reveal a Harlequin romance bookcover (except with fluid), only Santi appears as if she might exist in real life. This movie is literally fantastic.
Island Fever 4 is every bit as accessible as last year's blockbuster Pirates without the burden of a story; buy it if you like to watch the pros work.
Buy it.
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 Studio: Vivid-alt
Director: Octavio "Winkytiki" Arizala
Cast: Kimberly Kane, Lexi Bardot, Page Morgan, Mysti May, Angie Savage, Masuimi Max, Nadia Styles, Smokin' Mary Jane, Dragon Lily
Portions of this review originally appeared on Fleshbot
The sly thing about The Rebelle Rousers is that it contains lines like "I'll deal with you later, Thrill Kitten." Like being offered one's dream job (but you'll have to live with your parents) or meeting your soulmate (but he/she requires a bucket of Ativan three times a day), there could be something horribly wrong with this movie but it would be impossible to tell because who wouldn't be charmed by hearing the words "Thrill Kitten"?
But this first movie from Vivid-alt is tasty throughout.
In the high-stakes world of lingerie procurement, the problems of addiction are often overlooked. The Pin-Ups, a group of girls who require frillier and frillier underpants, are beholden to the Rebelle Rousers, the girl-gang who delivers the goods.
The movie is shot 50's exploitation style and you half-expect Jim Backus to show up and provide counsel. Beginning with a trailer park knife fight, the movie then transitions to a girl-girl scene between gang leader Kimberly Kane and lingerie addict Nadia Styles, illustrating a kind of Stockholm Syndrome but with cunnilingus, as Styles falls in love with her oppressor.
Fetishists - and you may become one, too - will enjoy Styles' gratuitous but joyful surf guitar strip tease that precedes her scene with Kane. Kane and Styles have a very long interlude together by porn standards, and the occasional camera shadow does little to diminish the scene's effectiveness. Narrative-wise, it seems the two part as equals, which goes against the standard pusher/buyer relationship.
Disgruntled gang member Lexi Bardot then encounters what in other circumstances might be considered rape, but in this case is simply office protocol, at the hands of "Slim" and "Jimbo". While the high concept with which this movie began might be breaking down, it is informative to see how lingerie gangs live.
In "The Ritual of Tiki Island", Dragon Lily is tied up and slapped around by a master ropesmith. It really has nothing to do wth anything, but it looks pretty.
Real-life couple Angie and Devon Savage star in the next segment, "Hillbilly Swingers". He laments her addiction to "contraband undies" and they work out their issues in their trailer. The heart-melting Mrs. Savage smiles her way through her scene, demonstrating a zest for married love that the Republicans should seriously consider for their '08 platform and that made me think, "Hey, trailers have more space than I thought."
Tyler Knight just edges out Devon Savage as luckiest man in the world when he hooks up with both Mysti May and Page Morgan in the next scene, "The Deliverer" (he delivers the panties for the gang). The Rebelle Rousers becomes lopsided at this point, because both this scene and the one that preceded it capture the fun of, you know, having sex on film in a way the other scenes didn't. In this way the movie ends on an up note.
That Knight whacks himself on May's stiletto heel and Morgan is often observed in a wide-mouth laugh is endearing. There is a lot of shouting and laughing in this scene, and, in their efforts to get at Knight, May and Morgan crawl over each other like a basket of puppies. The Porn Valley Chamber of Commerce should really use this scene as part of its promotional packet for prospective talent.
Smokin' Mary Jane's "The Perfect Pin-Up" is the movie's most Taschenesque segment, and is as art-directed as a Bettie Page photo enthusiast's dream. Mary Jane, like Nadia Styles before her, does a strip tease but unlike Styles is not joined by anyone to finish the job. Instead this segment finishes the movie, along with a dance by fetish superstar Masuimi Max over the credits.
In that Arizala introduced such an interesting plot idea, it was disappointing to see it disappear now and then, but at no point was The Rebelle Rousers not visually interesting or deturgidifying, and at some points, especially toward the end, it was a perfect piece of practical art.
See a gallery here.
Buy it.
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The Vanessa Del Rio Collection Volume One
 Studio: VCA
Director: Tim McDonald, Joe Verdi, The Dark Brithers,
Cast: Vanessa Del Rio, Seka, Little Oral Annie, Erica Boyer, Marc Wallice, Peter North, Tom Byron
Portions of this review originally appeared on Fleshbot
The three 80's era films in this collection might not be a must-have for Vanessa Del Rio fans (then as now, oftentimes the person appearing on the boxcover doesn't spend too much time in the movie), but they are representative of their time, and feature a lot of performers whose names have become legendary in the adult industry, like Seka, Nina Hartley, John Leslie, and Del Rio herself.
The first movie in this three-disc collection, Beyond Desire, tells the story of a private detective who shacks up in a brothel in order to protect it against a takeover. While originally professing to keep it professional, he eventually falls prey to the available talent and has to fake his own death.
Beyond Desire's aspirations to mainstream fare are apparent from the first scene, establishing the movie as a noirish detective tale mixed with a beyond-the-grave narrator right out of Sunset Boulevard. With a clear beginning, middle, and end and a few comic moments that are perfectly timed, as well as "Matlock"-worthy acting, it is embarrassing that I now look on a woman with a hairy pussy as an abomination.
There are a few directors extant who put porn movies together like this, and they are all in the neighborhood of sixty. That aesthetic is gone as is, I assume, the market for it. I found myself getting bored and flipping through the movie, looking for a breakout scene.
That scene is between John Leslie and Del Rio, in which he dons a strap-on and fucks her with both appendages in one hole. It's a scene that says Del Rio was ready for more than her suitors could dish out.
1983's Dr. Lust actually stars Del Rio in the title (I would never say "titular" to you people) role. The most satisfying of the three, this movie espouses a swingin' worldview that I find terrifying when I encounter it among people older than I am, and now that I see a movie like this one, I know where they got their ideas.
Dr. Lust fields questions from radio callers like the one in which a lady catches her husband and her best friend in bed together.
"What should I do?" the caller pleads.
"Might you not be angry that they didn't invite you?" Dr. Lust suggests, then tells the caller to join in on the tryst.
Another vignette has the good doctor explaining the best way to get a three-way going between her boyfriend and his best friend. "Just wear something sexy and sit on his lap," Del Rio prescribes, "wait for his reaction, then go from there."
The ensuing scene (I wish I knew who the woman was - the credits are vague) leaves little room for her boyfriend's reaction. If my wife were to sit on my lap in a slinky pantsuit and tell me, in the presence of my football buddy, that she had the hots for him, well, there would be a lot of sobbing and recriminations.
Greg Dark's Deep Inside Vanessa Del Rio (1983) concludes the collection with appearances by Erica Boyer, Peter North, Tom Byron, and the infamous Marc Wallice. We get to see an early incarnation of the way-too-old-to-be-the-naughty-schoolgirl motif in a masturbation scene, and the rest of the movie, like its predecessors, is characterized by the tinny soundtrack that washed over most of the Reagan administration combined with lighting that is often uncertain.
Del Rio is game, friendly, and approachable in each of these movies. It's clear why fans would follow her career rather than forget about her after the towels arrived. For those of us who grew up lusting after her successors, this collection, especially Dr. Lust is worth checking out for its historical perspective.
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Studio: Vivid
