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  • Carpool
  • The Crash Pad Volume 2
  • Gov Lov: The Eliot Splitz-her Story
  • Nina Hartley's Great Sex During Pregnancy
  • Mother of the Year
  • Undone
  • Mini-review: Sex Slaves of Satan
  • Virtual Sex with Katsumi
  • Mini-review: Latina Hollywood Hookers
  • California Dreamin'
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    --6.20.2008--

    Carpool

    Studio: Wicked
    Director: Jonathan Morgan
    Cast: Kaylani Lei, Kylie Wilde, Nicole Sheridan, Nikki Rhodes, Renae Cruz, Marcus London, Evan Stone, Alex Sanders, Dane Cross, Herschel Savage, Niko

    Portions of this review originally appeared on Fleshbot

    Is Kaylani Lei dead? In a gauzy, brightly-lit room she cavorts with a man in white underpants. According to the Porn Valley Book of the Dead, this and her four-inch white stilletos point to the Afterlife. But something is wrong; the apparition she's with appears to be Nick Manning in all that oversaturation, but it's not. Is she in Heaven or in Hell? We can't tell. Also, because the room is so white, we can't tell if a load has been dropped.

    But wait. It's all a dream. Sandy (Lei) was only dreaming. It's Monday morning; she's not making love to an angel, she's a lonely working girl with a dog, and she's late for her carpool.

    The car ride to the office is filled with the type of banter acting that reminds one of locally produced AM radio commercials. It's comforting. It says that, no matter how expensive the camera package and editing rig, that porn directors know the real reason people watch porn is for the sex.

    It seems the office is going to undergo a round of layoffs, say the carpoolers. But, just as the movie opened with a more or less gratuitous sex scene (and I'm not saying there is anything bad about gratuitous sex in a porn movie), we now have the opportunity, through the porn-narrative techniques of exposition and flashback, to review each passenger's weekend sexcapades.

    In the slow drive around the neighborhood, nerdy Jimmy recounts how he bedded a stripper in Vegas after a winning night at the blackjack table. He must've won big, because Hooker didn't make him wear a condom! Outside his casino-comped room, neon lights flash. Production design! Then the stripper's luchador husband arrives.

    Then it's middle-aged Bob (Herschel Savage)'s turn. He and his wife get ready for a night of role-playing by talking about the APR on their leased vehicles. Wicked's couples'-friendly credo is this: See? Dom/sub couples are just like you.

    "Next week, we're going to try something called erotic asphyxiation," Bob says.

    Around this time I was waiting for the weekend adventures of the driver of the carpool, Sue. "I bet those glasses are just a beard for her sexual hellcattery," I said.

    But Kaylani is the contract girl, so she gets her second sex scene first. She has a threesome with her friend and the pizza guy. The pizza guy. Never accuse Wicked of discarding history.

    We finally get to Sue, who shocks our sensibilities by being a dirty little biker whore. With Brian Surewood unavailable, the role of lead biker went to an unshaven Evan Stone. While Sue's acting in the car was frankly abysmal, at the biker bar she acts with her eyes. Brilliant!

    Four attractive people stuck in traffic talk about sex. Is there anything better suited to late-night cable? Carpool may be formulaic, but it's friendly, non-threatening, and fun. As the gang breaks up at the office parking lot there is a tidy wrap-up. With gas prices so high, I see room for a slew of inexpensive sequels.

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    --6.05.2008--

    The Crash Pad Volume 2

    Studio: Blowfish Video
    Director: Shine Louise Houston
    Cast: Shawn, Jiz, Micha, Dallas, Vai, Legs, Johnny, Jake, Wilder, Michelle Aston, Julie

    Portions of this review originally appeared on Fleshbot

    A woman invites a friend into her apartment. "I got you a present," she says, leading her friend into a room where a naked woman sits waiting on the bed.

    "Nice present," she says, and the three become equally naked and start going at it.

    Gay or straight, the question remains: If I got you a present, like, say, a bottle of Jagermeister, wouldn't it be polite to wait for you to offer before I started drinking it? If your answer is no, well, I want to be a lesbian.

    "Such a good boy," the friend says to the "present," slapping her repeatedly. The first woman casually dons a strap-on and goes to work.

    FThe latest in a series about a well-furnished apartment being used as a sex den by a group of Bay Area lesbians, "The Crash Pad"'s narrative is at first confusing because it is framed as a movie being watched on a computer by its editor. We watch as people come and go, trysting and remembering their hookups from the night before. At some earlier point, we assume, these women had names and back stories; now, all we know about them is that a key to the Crash Pad is a coveted thing.

    Coveted but not because the Crash Pad is a lesbian utopia. The femmes sneer at the drag kings, territories seem fragile. And then Michelle Aston shows up! What is she doing here?? Aston again does not take this opportunity to be a delicate flower; she treats her partnwer most harshly.

    "Where do you think you're going, Little Girl?" Aston barks. The little girl gasps as the tattooed storm cloud of Aston descends on her.

    "Crashpad" is clearly a movie made by lesbians who love lesbians, and the passion is catchy. Sometimes the filmmakers get so excited that we can even hear them whispering and we can see their cameras. All in service of getting us as close as possible to their subjects, which can't be bad.

    It remains unclear at the end what that peeping movie editor is doing there, but one thing is certain: if the Abby Winters girls showed up at the Crash Pad, they wouldn't stand a chance.

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