Best Porn Directors!

Billy Wilder, distinguished director of classic cross-dressing comedy Some Like It Hot, once said: "A director must be a policeman, a midwife, a psychoanalyst, a sycophant, and a bastard." I say a porn director must be a please-ma'am, a gynecologist, a psychodramatist, a sicko-fucker, and a bastard. Besides possessing the most porno name for a real director ever (Peter Bogdanovich duly noted), Billy had a knack for inserting sexual innuendo into his strips . . . scripts. (Or so critic Anthony Lane claims.) As for porn directors, talk about in-you-and—oh, never mind.

This week's topic, movies by the "Best Porn Directors" I came across while searching for DVDs starring Loni, was inspired by Kim's, the vid-joint mini-chain where they organize movies by auteur. When I'm not buffing my knob, I'm a real film buff—check out Groundhog Day if you haven't already!—so taking a column-cue from Kim's was inevitable. Porn Valley values amateurs and autistics, not auteurs, but it isn't hard to find acclaimed hardcore heads and pretentious fucks. Heck, I came across three flicks by those types in my desk drawer!

First, the pretentious fucks. Award winner Thomas Zupko, responsible for a pop-media allegory I reviewed but forget the name of, now presents Opera (Elegant Angel). This feature boasts "real-life" opera singer Allen Rene, outdoor shots, costumes (including a scary devil), those between-scenes spinning newspapers that keep us abreast of major events, and a smattering of actors who don't fuck but do speak Italian (close enough). It is an epic story of lust, betrayal, etc.: In the opening moments, we see an opera star named Puccini wandering the streets of L.A. in tattered clothes. He lays down behind a dumpster—no, not a "cum dumpster," one for garbage—and is plunged deep into erotic fantasy . . .

Details

Opera
Elegant Angel

Shades of Red
Nectar
DVD

Feeding Frenzy 3
Evil Angel
View Movie Now
DVD
VHS

Meaning, he sees a redhead take it in the ass. The typically Zupkosian hardcore scenes, dressed up as bacchanalias (columns, togas) and padded with an extra, unattractive couple, are annoyingly intercut with Allen Rene lipsyncing, rats crawling on our heroin-shooting hero, and Italian monologues expounding on his downfall and the search for "joy without pain" (there are subtitles).

But the sex itself! Avy Scott, one of my very favorite treasure-chested, junk-in-the-trunk cum dumpsters, gives an inspired, phlegmy performance blowing and getting blown out by a guy who looks like a Neanderthal but is nevertheless very charming. Linked by an apparently deep and abiding interest in sloppy deep-throat, the two exhibit more chemistry than George Clooney's ever found outside of the high school science lab. (Zing!) Nothing, however, could whet my appetite for what Apeman does with olive oil, a banana, and a cucumber: He pours the oil on her full and nicely-nipped tits and puts the produce in her ass! And then never even tosses her salad! (Then again, without balsamic vinegar, why bother?)

The exalted Ashley Blue, sporting adorable curls, puts in a typically tasty turn with her aggressive, handsome boyfriend. In her Girlvert roles, Ashley renders sassy dialogue with an assured delight that, in its knowing conflation of the innocent and profane, borders on the sublime. Her doofy b.f. even makes a perfect comic foil. This being an artsy-fartsy flick, all we hear out of Ashley is a cascading series of whimpers as her man slaps her face and fucks her ass. Of course, most of the time she has a dick in her mouth.

Opera will not elevate Zupko's legacy, only reinforce it. The man's talent, if we can call it that, is making women seem even more like objects than they do in the rest of porn. Like a pincushion, say—someplace to put your prick. And no amount of jarring, "creative" cuts and Euro cred can obscure the movie's fatal cliché: that trusting a lustful woman (Puccini's cheating wife) will bring a man down. In the end, she even has sex with the devil. I eagerly await the sequel, Rosemary's Barely Legal Baby.

With Shades of Red (Nectar), first-time director Marty Zion hopes to nail every "erotic" porn cliché. The constant, self-reflexive reminders that you are in fact witnessing an artistic representation of the primal essence of sexuality crop up right away. A model, surrounded by mannequins, poses for a man with a drawing pad; there's no dialogue or sound except wanky muzak. The lady, a not unattractive blond wearing pink lipstick, approaches the man; they slowly, melodramatically feel one another up; as she brings his dick to her mouth, a wailing guitar solo suddenly kicks in.

If this is couples porn, I'd rather be single (or at least, y'know, be allowed to mess around). Scene two, set in the same room, starts off just as bad. But instead of an interpretive b.j. solo, we get overtly male metal riffing during cunnilingus; doggy style on a rotating, red-satin-covered platform; long, red hair whipped by off-screen fans. But even staged sex cannot be constrained by cliché: On three separate occasions, our redhead squirts more impressively than anyone I've ever witnessed, long elegant arcs leaving her quivering and exhausted. Of course, the classic douche she's with immediately grabs her slick, splayed legs with his meaty hands and tries to start mindlessly again.

Gonzo's greatest director, Jules Jordan, holds neither convention nor common decency sacred. Feeding Frenzy 3 (Evil Angel), in a nutshell: Four stiff, impatient men surround one pretty young thing, who's just taken off her blindfold and kneels on a bathroom mat. Prompted, she brightly exclaims, "I want those cocks all the way down my . . . glargh!"

I can't wait for the director's cut!


Elegant Angel, 9801 Variel Street, Chatsworth, CA 91311, elegantangel.com

Evil Angel, 14141 Covello Street, #8C, Van Nuys, CA 91405, julesjordan.com

Nectar, 14141 Covello Street, #5C, Van Nuys, CA 91405, nectar.tv

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