90ish Minutes Starring Kriss, Faith, Shannon +1, Yvette and “Ray”
Phyco:
Extraordinary.
It’s filthy “Faith” up first, the gobbling grandma, and she’s got all the winks and waffle you’ll need to have your ribs in stitches within 3 minutes of switching on “C’mon - you can do it - get it going - you should be really wanking yourself by now!” she coo’s all toothy waggling her mitt around in the dry hairy bathtub between her legs… she’s a shocker alright - but there’s some kind of strange compelling magic issuing from the screen as her pantomime unfolds… and all the comedy clears… and a terrible *naughty* descends like a crisp thick fog.
“HAVE FAITH IN ME!” she screams with her head thrown back exposing the best dental work in the sex industry and we nearly shat our legs off with mirth!
“You’ve got me good and proper then!” she adds and we just pass away without resistance - because it can never be this good again…
The red lingery and the scars twinkle under the lounge halogens and the most beautiful UK facial ever concludes this so-suprising testament to pure on-screen chemistry being the stuff of awards and arm-ache… Magic!! And all permeated with
Ummmng - corrrrr - phwoooaaarrr - hng! - wrrrooorrwrror - cooorrr - phwoooo - oooeeerr…
…throughout… Kenneth Connor in Carry On Up The Front-pipe [anal free i’m afraid… sorry sodomites!] and the show goes on as old saucy “Shannon” takes to the stage, lightly assuring us that “that’s nice” like she was referring to her collectors plates… her old boy’s taking the joint lead here and - more’s the pity - remains quite out of shot for the best part of her scene - I say pity because when we do finally get a full body shot he is revealed to be the “hardest man in Britain” and the spectacle proves all the better for the old-school greaserisms he provides…
“Oh yes… fuck… mmmmng… yes… ooer…” with a canary in a cage behind the covered sofa… the net curtains… the textured wallpaper… the brass-and-glass lamp… it’s so familiar! She’s on her back earning her sprocket-money and her head’s wedged up the side of the video collection! This is that bird down the pub - the legendary barmaid who used to sort out the lads with her “on a plate” approach to casual bog sex on a boozy late lock in! A hardcore episode of George and Mildred… a pornographic soap opera… palming herself off in an unprecedented, breathtaking sexology lesson that kept us - and the camera that serves us - transfixed as her yoni goes into fits, and then she too pulls of a sincerely rude facial [next to a big box of Kit Kats on the floor] while her mutton chopped hubby delivers a mildly repellent spoonful of butter in a fittingly gripping piece of slapflick [Phyco: “Casper - whas the word for how he just shot his beans?” Casper: “He didn’t shoot anything… he oozed his beans”] I can’t believe I’m watching this you know… the only teens in sight are framed on the mantelpiece… and it’s brilliant! Look out for the magic moment when the back end meat shot breaks the pace to realign the pistons and the fuzziest pair of oranges sweep up the screen in a smashing mid-way chuckler…
Oooph - phwoooaaarr - grrrr - ooooogh - whoooaaahhh - corrrphwarrrooorr - bwrwrwrrr…
“Dirty wives at home!” promises the box, and if it’s correct, our third feature “Yvette” lives in a field: It’s an alfresco session with the redundant todger of her old man [Casper: “I bet his name’s Ray”] to get things milky until cheeky bollocks Kriss News comes swaggering through the barley to provide his third portion of energetic British timber in this remarkable turn up for the books that has got Casper by the wire’s… All these old birds are so fucking keen that they manage to completely transcend the micro-stigmas that porn usually employs to accentuate the titillating little rudenesses that make it work; their honest and sincere fuckery affords us splendid blue moods that move all the goal posts in our noble quest for the *real thing*!
“Anything at the end?” ponders Casper optimistically as his big toe hits the fast forward… “Naaahhh… pity” and that cunt Tarrant kicks in over the telly… phew… what a revelation… nothing will ever be the same again…
You can grab this for under a tenner “downstairs at the SoHo Bookshop” if you’re in London…
Casper:
Oh God someone help me!
I have descended into a world of sheer depravity that will sicken many, and confuse many more: I LIKE GRANNY PORN!!
I’m not saying buy this, I’m not saying like this, I’m not even saying watch it… but for ME - well… I can’t keep away from it… It’s disgusting - it’s great… it’s rank - it’s saucy… it’s bad - but it’s good… it’s wrong - but God it’s ooooohhhh sssoooo RIGHT.
I’m addicted. But after the lunchbreak is over, I’m as shame ridden as a nasty little old man at home alone in his bedsit who’s been out exposing himself to women in the park… IT’S TEARING ME APART.
Having said that - it’s just a stigma, a load of conditioning and social hangups. I believe it should be regarded as a healthy admittance of a childhood fantasy! Trust me on this one - HAVE FAITH IN ME!/HAVE ME IN FAITH!…PLEASE!!!
I’ve said it before, but i’ll say it again THESE BIRDS LOVE IT. There are elements of a contrived nature, but let’s face it - some old bird is getting it rotten off a young stallion - of course she fucking loves it! This is accentuated by the cameo appearances of their rotund, gnarled, dissinterested, flacid, waxen husbands who couldn’t get a turge-on for love nor money! It’s real it’s fucking gritty and it’s every man’s childhood fantasy: To shag the bird the milkman used to make a “special visit” to on his round when you were a kid, the one with the fluffy mule slippers and the silk neglige under the modest seethrough dressing gown…
This is fucking it for me… it’s got everything - I could even read the labels of the video collection in their front room in the second scene - “Jimmy Tarbuck LIVE AT THE PALLADIUM” - Oh God! - pure unadulterated genius. Despite that wanker running off like Benny Hill at the end of the last scene without his Chinos and Faith behaving like an elderly oversexed Ruby Wax - this coins it as far as I’m concerned. I’m so proud of the fact that the “Casper Season” kicked off with this. In fact if I have anything to do with it, it will continue with this and then it will end with this and then…well then… there’s nothing left for me here…
Casper:
I’ve decided to give it a certificate.
Phyco:
Really? Do you know what a certificate actually means?
Casper:
No… but I know it’s getting one… I thought about it for two hours today… in the super market…
Phyco:
I think there’s some contrivances in there though - like the field scene, that’s got-
Casper:
IT’S FUCKING GETTING ONE… okay?
Phyco:
Alright! It gets one…
Casper [much, much later]:
Are you giving it one?