130 Minutes Starring Jade & Jayney, Georgette Neale, Rebekah Jordan, Teri, Bob Scott, Pascal White and Steve Perry
Phyco:
In a desperate bid to quash the prophecised “studio” uprising before it takes a hold we conspire to run a Ben Dover season… get some grit back in the house before it’s too late, and celebrate the Great British porner a bit before we face him at the Erotica show in November…
So, if the “Island Fever” debacle was just what we were not looking for… then the theory goes that, in finding a grumble pic that’s positioned at the polar opposite, we should strike gold… but once again, our mission is thwarted…
What do we want?! What do we need?! Why are we here at all?! We talk about the seediness, we dream about the sordid realities, we lust after the nasty, crave after the darkness, obsess after the truth… and when we find it? We reach for the “remedy drops”… and the fear spoils the oils… What went wrong?
Well, for a start, we’re looking to get off on the *reality* aspect in the simplest possible sense… simply rude… simply hardcore… we don’t want a saucy biology lesson, we’re not curious as to the interior tripe-textures of the womb from whence we came, we’re not hairy pot-holers on *the amazing journey* into the fleshy glue pipes of the human machine… we’re not interested in the visual effects of 3 bagloads of foam being spewed from one trap to the next in a grinning twin-sister anal teen-rant experiment conducted up there in the eve’s of the local church [i never realised there were jacuzzis in bell towers]… well okay - a bit… but there’s a fine line between hardcore and medicore - and this is one small step too close to the operating table… but that’s not to say that the peroxide action on offer here is without merit - for there are numerous redeeming features: secondary camera POV’s [rather complex voyeur stuff really], keen as mustard in-your-face crack antics and blondie bum fingering salty sweet’n innocent UK pinkers getting papped batty by the pack of wood hounds who’s mission it is to bring on the frothy cock spit… full tilt creative camera action [Perry is very handy with a hand-cam after all]… but the colour’s all wrong… the fluids are too messy and the [very much in evidence] stark rudeness is somehow alien… somewhat like a “naughty schoolboys sticking things up girls” vibe… like the viewers have been forgotten, and the cream team are in it for themselves… i’d like to steam into a 30,000 word thesis on “Exchanging Bodily Fluids - The politics of intimacy and the pornographic image” but i can’t be fucked, maybe *the war against terryism* is troubling the guts - but really - the sight of a bearded-snot-pig eating sloppy-scallops is enough to spoil me cornflakes.
Once again this is lads-night-in-with-bierre-blond-and-pringles material… harder than hard and good for chuckles - but too rank to crank if truth be told… and so it’s “back on the road” for C&P in the search for the ultimate towel soiler…
…now go and pay your pound into the Million Pound Wank… you slag…
“too confused, too afraid”
Casper:
After some slight problems with “Fever Island” and my inexplicable fascination with “Shameless Desires” I again find myself in a muddle… Bring on Mr Perry’s “Dirty Blondes”.
The Casperian crusade for grit is truly a complex phenomena… In most cases this woud be just what I’m looking for - more grain than a “thanksgiving centrepiece”, But NO! Porn is a form of… escapism, and fantasy, and therefore incredibly specific to the individual viewer. In Casper’s world we’re looking to escape to a place close to the everyday reality (her next door) but it’s a fine line and we don’t want to go… “too far”…
Yes, I want the spotty arses, Yes I want the cigarette breath, but what I don’t want is a fucking anatomical analysis. I don’t care what it looks like inside a birds “grumble” - and stop spitting spuff everywhere! There’s no denying it, Perry is a “geezer”… his films mirror this with his gaenacalogical [sic] preoccupation and his cronies obsession with making a girl “cum” …did you see the shit coming out of that second girls flange?!!
If I’m escaping into a world of porn, it’s via pure selfishness, I don’t give a toss about the bird(s) involved having spasms - I just want my “lunchbreak”. This film is good for geezers and is the stuff of great gonzo, but maybe in my old age i’m becoming more specific and… [Phyco: God forbid…] more sensitive… but there’s grit, and there’s sick, and I know what I like… [Phyco: Fuckinell… we sound like a right pair of poofs… sort it out!]
“you should have listened to me in the first place”