Deep Throat
Friday, February 6th, 2009 | roger ebert | No Comments
Roger Ebert / March 6, 1973
Deep Throat movie poster art
Deep Throat Movie Reviewe by Roger Ebert March 6th 1973
Deep Throat Movie Review
There are, I have been told, 17 scenes of explicit sex in the movie”DeepThroat.” I did not count them myself, I saw the movie, but I forgot to start counting until too late. Harold, who is a bartender in the Old Town area, counted them on Friday afternoon, and we will have to take his word. Harold is not often mistaken in these matters. He has a keen eye and a good memory.
Harold had just finished counting the 17 scenes on Friday afternoon when seven marked squad cars and four unmarked squad cars pulled up on Armitage in front of the Town Theater, which is showing “Deep Throat.” This concentration of law enforcement vehicles created a gapers’ block in both directions on Armitage, and also slowed traffic on Clark St. and Lincoln Ave.
I am not quite sure why such a massive hit force was necessary; smaller numbers of officers have successfully flushed killers from attics and directed the traffic at Soldier Field after a Bears game. No matter. They blew the whistle, and most of the patrons of the theater left quietly, keeping their hat brims low and their collars turned up, for it was a chilly afternoon.The police, alas, neglected to obtain the necessary papers before making their raid, and so a federal judged ruled on Saturday that the Town could continue to show “Deep Throat.” I exercised my constitutional right to see the movie on Sunday afternoon, and felt only a little twinge of nostalgia as I entered the theater. In its balmier days, the Town showed Orson Welles, “Falstaff,” Luis Bunuel’s “The Exterminating Angel,” and Babette (48-24-36) Bardot’s strip-tease pantomime to “Melancholy Baby” - all three works of art superior, I would say, to “Deep Throat.”
The movie became “pornographic chic” in New York before it was busted. Mike Nichols told Truman Capote he shouldn’t miss it, and then the word just sort of got around: This is the first stag film to see with a date. There were a lot of couples in the audience Sunday afternoon. Most of them, I thought, left the theater looking a little grim.
It is all very well and good for Linda Lovelace, the star of the movie, to advocate sexual freedom; but the energy she brings to her role is less awesome than discouraging. If you have to work this hard at sexual freedom, maybe it isn’t worth the effort.
Anyway, to continue our consumer’s report, the 17 scenes take place in a movie 62 minutes long. Allowing for the six minutes devoted to Linda Lovelace driving around Miami while the credits roll past, and taking out the swimming pool scene, the fireworks and the launching at Cape Kennedy, this leaves an average of 2.9 minutes per act, which is considerably less than Xaviera Hollander is recommending these days in her Penthouse column.
On the other hand, the cost is only 33.6 cents per sex scene, while you have to put six quarters in the machine to see a whole movie in the arcades on South State St. Sounds like a bargain until you realize that if “Gone with the Wind” were exhibited at the same cost-per-minute as “Deep Throat,” It would cost you $36.72 for tickets for yourself and your date.
Devil in Miss Jones
Friday, February 6th, 2009 | Reviews | No Comments
Devil in Miss Jones poster art
Roger Ebert / June 13, 1973
I sometimes find myself the advocate of what might be called a generic theory of film criticism. That’s to say I think movies should be judged, in part, in terms of the expectations we have for them. A handful of movies rise above their genres: “Bonnie and Clyde” is no gangster film, for example, and “Stagecoach” is more than a Western. But most of the time, when we go to the movies, we go seeking more modest rewards: A decent spy picture, for example, or a passable musical.
If you can accept this system of judgment, then “The Devil in Miss Jones” is maybe a three-star dirty movie. It’s the best hard-core porno film I’ve seen, and although I’m not a member of the raincoat brigade, I have seen the highly touted productions like “Deep Throat” and “It Happened in Hollywood.”
“The Devil in Miss Jones” (made by the “Deep Throat” people) is good primarily because of the performance of Georgina Spevlin in the title role. Miss Spevlin, who has become the Linda Lovelace of the literate, is already something of a legend. She’s said to be a housewife from upstate New York, in her 30s, married with kids, who decided one day to go to the big city for a last tango or two. How, and why she found herself in porno movies a few days later is a little unclear; but there burns in her soul the spark of an artist, and she is not only the best, but possibly the only, actress in the hard-core field. By that I mean when she’s on the screen, her body and actions aren’t the only reasons we’re watching her. Alone among porno stars, she never seems exploited. The plot of “The Devil in Miss Jones” is cursory, as these things always are, but somehow an ambiance is established in the first 10 minutes of the movie that carries over and gives even the most explicit scenes a curiously affecting quality. My notion is that the makers of “The Devil in Miss Jones,” having labored in the porno field for some time (it’s about the only employment available for the new graduates of filmmaking schools), made enough money with “Deep Throat” to finally take a few risks on a more ambitious project. The hard-core stuff aside, they maintain a very nice, moody, even poignant atmosphere that’s a relief after all the frantic fun-seeking of Miss Lovelace and colleagues. The story involves a withdrawn and lonely woman (Miss Spevlin) who commits suicide, only to find that she’s gotten herself committed to hell on a technicality. She convinces the gatekeeper to allow her to go back to earth and really earn her admission to the lower depths, and he agrees. She then pursues the deadly sin of lust for the next hour and 10 minutes. This sounds banal, of course, but the opening is so well directed and acted that we can almost suspend our disbelief. This is the first porno movie I’ve seen that actually seems to be about its leading character - instead of merely using her as the object of sexual variations.
None of this will make sense, I suppose, to the majority of moviegoers who have never been to a hard-core film, and never intend to. But for those of us who do attend occasionally (even if only out of professional duty, ahem), the most depressing thing about them is their cheerlessness, their grim preoccupation with the mechanics of a situation, and their total exploitation of actors. If explicit sex is a legitimate subject matter for the movies - and “Cries and Whispers” and “Last Tango in Paris” have recently demonstrated that most memorably - then there is no reason why porno movies have to be wretchedly made, corrupt and inhuman. At the very least, “The Devil in Miss Jones” demonstrates that such failings are not native to the genre.
Olympic Fever
Tuesday, February 3rd, 2009 | Reviews | No Comments
Olympic Fever
Movie Review from Gene Ross at www.adultfyi.com
Ask yourself this question: when was the last time you saw Bill Margold without a mustache or Ron Jeremy with a 32-inch waist?
While the movie Olympic Fever just released on DVD from Arrow Productions www.xxxdeepthroat.com may not be the most accurate response from a trivia standpoint, at least it affords the opportunity of witnessing both phenomena, simultaneously.
Jeremy who’s been hamming it up as Barnacle Bill the Sailor as of late is on the other side of both the Atkins Diet and the American flag as a Russian spy who can suck his own dick- but for a second- just to show the canines in the neighborhood that he can. The fact that he does it from a standing position is all the more noteworthy.
And Seka, who emits a few grunts here and there but nothing discernible in the way of language as we know it, plays Jeremy’s Platinum accomplice. Their mission, once Jeremy displays the fact that he can suck his own dick [ keep telling yourself it's not a gay act ], is to sabotage the U.S. Swim Team with the help of turncoat Paul Thomas.
[Thomas as the main go-to guy in one of the many briskly paced scenes has Seka bent over by her garter belt in one instance and lets 'er rip.]
Sexually, Olympic Fever http://www.adultfyi.com/read.aspx?ID=4167 which includes Serena, Connie Peterson, Candida Royalle, and R.J. Reynolds, gives you lot of sexual chestnuts to chomp on including an indoor cast orgy and an outdoor coupling against a Dr. Zhivago landscape, courtesy Mother Nature. But nowhere are the scenes played to the style and length you might be used to in contemporary porn. Which is way okay for couples who probably yearn for the good ol’ days of a storyline that didn’t sacrifice itself on the altar of interminable sexual gymnastics.
Meanwhile, the Russian plot masterminded by a cat-fondling Blofeld character out of James Bond is to kidnap thekey member of the swim team, Laurie Smith who plays a character named Kristin, and is billed in the credits as such. More trivia. And the rescue mission headed up by Coach Ron played by Margold is an economically downsized version of the one you might see in Stripes.
Besides all that, is the fact that Smith has a protein deficiency which can be stabilized by giving blow jobs, which means she has to suck a lot of cock to go that extra lap. Smith, as you can’t help but notice, also sports massive bush as though she’s got an old Cosell hairpiece trapped in a leg lock. Other deficiencies besides the protein one also apply to a couple of cute continuity snafus that lend character to the piece’s sense of casual free-for-all and result from an unexpected said snow storm. For instance we see Margold running his team through a series of calisthenics on a warm spring day only to have a cutaway to Jeremy spying on them in the middle of a snow squall.
Closer inspection might uncover a few more hiccups, but that’s half the charm of these older porn flicks. And keep convincing yourself that sucking one’s own dick is not a gay act.
You can get this adult classic from Arrow Productions at www.xxxdeepthroat.com
Tell Them Johnny Wadd is Here
Tuesday, February 3rd, 2009 | Reviews | No Comments
Tell Them Johnny Wadd is Here - Movie poster
Movie Review from Gene Ross at www.adultfyi.com
Missy Monroe’s hilarious exchange with Wankus the other night on KSEX, ww.ksexradio.com, in which she goofed by saying that she had done a scene recently with John Holmes, of course, meaning Steve Holmes, got me thinking. Particularly about John Holmes’ famous Johnny Wadd character- and a film he did that probably went a long way towards inspiring Boogie Nights. In the movie Tell Them Johnny Wadd Is Here, which is directed by Bob Chinn [the Burt Reynolds character from Boogie Nights], you see some of the goofy action sequences immortalized in the Paul Thomas Anderson classic.
One classic begets another as P.I. John Holmes stops just long enough from engaging drug dealers in various forms of bad martial arts to having sex with Annette Haven, Joan Devlon and Veronica Taylor. Holmes is in the middle of undressing Haven when he gets a call from an old army buddy who’s now a San Francisco cop on a vigilante-style trail of drug traffickers in Mexico.
The jurisdictional aspects, alone, beg some questions, but Holmes signals that his lean ass and 12-inch dick will be in Enseneda to join him within four hours. Whether Holmes mentally calculates fucking Haven in his itinerary is anyone’s guess. But their opening tryst has always been considered this film’s best.
In one road sequence Holmes, inexplicably gets out of his convertible Mercedes in some south of the border shithole, looks out towards the ocean and reminisces about a strung out woman named Doreen he once fucked that has married his army buddy but has now left the army buddy to fuck one of the drug traffickers the army buddy is trying to put away.
How’s this for a priceless exchange. The drug dealer: “You’re not going to shoot up again?” Doreen ignores him and shoots up. Drug dealer: “It’s a good thing I get it wholesale the way you put it away.”
Paralleling the complexities of the Wadd love triangle, are sequences that go long ways to Sunday to save dimes including lengthy philosophical spiels from Carlos Tobalina, a porn director, who plays the local police chief ala Orson Welles in Touch of Evil, along with a bad guy cameo from Chinn.
In one of the most dastardly examples of cinematic continuity abuse ever witnessed, Holmes and his buddy are eating in a dive. [There's a lot of eating going on here.] The buddy’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt. But as they leave the restaurant and into the arms of awaiting muggers, he’s now fending off the goons decked out in a leisure suit and a white shirt.
Priceless. And, of course, in his methods of interrogation to solicit vital information, Holmes nails a couple of the local senoritas with doggie-style dispatch, dripping man snot on their ass cheeks. In another sequence where- you guessed it- Holmes and his buddy are having a bite, Holmes excuses himself to take a shit while a trio of Mexican cutthroats do the friend in. Guilt riddled with bad bowel timing, it’s when Holmes whips out the hardware, meaning the handguns, that the film rises to the occasion of marvelous revenge-focused absurdity.
From the Arrow Productions Classic DVD Collection, www.xxxdeepthroat.com
Liquid Lips
Tuesday, February 3rd, 2009 | Reviews | No Comments
Liquid Lips DVD cover
Movie Review by Gene Ross from www.adultfyi.com
The late John Holmes was to acting what the late Christopher Reeve was, in the last years of his life, to figure skating. Holmes certainly carried the magnificent lumber in his pants but when it came to emoting, delivered his lines as though they were tree trunks. And in Liquid Lipps, the sequel to Tell Them Johnny Wadd Is Here, Holmes delivers the entire sawmill.
Lipps, which is, as you’d expect, a Holmes sexual showcase devoted to the wonders of his penis, picks up the story after Holmes’ P.I. character has it out with the drug dealing bad guys in Mexico who’ve knocked off his pal, Sam Kelly. But the fact that bad guys central is established in San Francisco, has you scratching your head when their leader Tony Sorrento [Mike Weldon]- not the swiftest drug lord, you’ll note- obsesses why Holmes is in his neck of the words.
Let’s take a wild guess. Maybe it has something to do with putting Sorrento and his effeminate-looking stooge Augie Valentine [Vernon von Bergdorfe wearing a blond page boy] out of commission. But even for a mellowed out assassin, Holmes’ unparalleled nonchalance is quite out of character, one would think, with the pressing mission at hand. To get the job done, drug enforcement has set Holmes up with a new partner named Charlie Hammond [Monique Starr], except Holmes thinks it’s a guy, only to learn after getting her pants off in his hotel room that the first name is spelled differently.
In one amusing exchange, Holmes asks his new partner if the feds will compensate him for a hooker [Melba Bruce] who Holmes claims arrived at his room by accident. [Actually Sorrento sent her to get info.] Charlie informs Holmes that he’ll need a receipt before he even entertains the notion. That bit of haggling going nowhere, now it’s Johnny and Charlie’s job to convince Sorrento [not a real difficult task] that they’ve turned bad and want to make a deal for the white powder that Holmes confiscated in Mexico.
Actually, this interpretation may make the whole plot sound way more intelligent than it actually is. But, rest assured, much of the charm of the Wadd series is its unbridled nonsense, droll lines and stilted action sequences- like Holmes taking a time-consuming drive through the winding Bay city with no punch line in his destination. And then you’re going to love the moment when a bewildered-looking federal agent [John Seeman] is held prisoner by Augie, tortured by striptease, shot full of smack and then fucked to death by wicked Wanda [Enjil von Bergdorfe]. As ludicrous as this situation is, Holmes’ bout of Wadd-fu in a parking lot with arch enemy Frankie [director Bob Chinn in an ongoing cameo throughout the series] will have you out on a stretcher from holding your sides.
This gem of priceless adult entertainment is brought to you by Arrow Productions, www.xxxdeepthroat.com.
Come Under my Spell
Tuesday, February 3rd, 2009 | Reviews | No Comments
Come Under my Spell
Movie Review by Gene Ross from www.adultfyi.com
Director Guy Capo’s humorous reference this week to porn bodies being found in trunks of cars takes an interesting turn into reality when you realize that Danny Carrelli is or was the director of Come Under My Spell, a movie which is available from Arrow Productions, www.xxxdeepthroat.com.
Carrelli, who authored the Sabrina Johnson 2,000 man gangbang- or, at least took credit for it- is rumored to either be sleeping with the fishes or a busted Uniroyal in an old Buick. Take your pick. While I have no authentication of the Carrelli demise, which was supposedly over the Johnson gangbang - a porn promotion that gives turds a bad name - I’ve heard the story from enough separate sources to suspect there’s some element of truth to it.
That being said, you might want to check out what is, conceivably, Carrelli’s last will and testament - a movie about one of guydom’s great sexual fantasies, i.e, putting a woman under a hypnotic spell, then banging the piss out of her. The surrogate, so to speak, is Rob Seven, an actual Vegas stage hypnotist, who plays a knight errant caught fucking Queen Guinevere [Joelean] and is doomed to wander the centuries. Just having to fuck the fabulously endowed Joelean while wearing a full suit of armor should have been punishment enough, but Seven wakes up in a dug up casket, centuries later, in the middle of the Las Vegas desert in full friar’s regalia. Can you spell monk balls?
Forgetting aerosal deodorant for the moment, what Seven has at his command is a supreme power over women. He looks them in the eye, then, with the palm of his hand, nearly takes their heads off their necks in a Bruce Lee move that’s supposedly legit but is funnier than shit to watch. During the course of the movie, Seven wanders the scenic landscape. In one instance, he hitchhikes a ride from Brian Surewood who talks about his wife taking off with the dog and how he’s going to miss the dog. Cassie, who plays the part of a stranded motorist, is given the power of suggestion to believe that Surewood is not the AAA but Brad Pitt. Whether you believe any of this or not, she certainly responds that way by bending over the front of Surewood’s SUV while lending her flanks to his engorged penis in a marathon hump.
Another stranded motorist- Sydney Steele- falls prey to the Seven booga booga by fucking Evan Stone. Steele turns into a sex maniac, and Stone turns into a motel where their scene is executed with some foot sucking and deft side saddling.
By this time, of course, it’s apparent to Seven that trolling around Vegas in a monk’s robe might seem rather attention getting to say the least, so he springs for some toned down modern duds; and, in a modern sort of way, walks into a strip club. Patron Guy DiSilva has the hots for stripper Cebu, a beautiful Oriental woman. And Seven, with a nudge and a wink, indicates to DiSilva that Cebu likes him, only she doesn’t know it yet. But it must have been DiSilva who Seven hypnotizes because the man turns into Lee Stone, executing one of Stone’s patented moves by straddling Cebu across his chest upside down then fucking her ass, demonically, with a pile driver.
Another anal spectacular is recorded when the positively gorgeous Darla Crane, a redhead of uncommon beauty, orders a martini from bartender Tyce Bune. With Seven as intercession, Crane, a maried woman in this instance, becomes of the opinion that Tyce is the last man left alive and lets him fuck her ass, accordingly.
If I were Tyce, I’d cash in my chips while I still had some. But he whines to Seven about getting his own pick of the litter, so, with the assistance of Surewood, Tyce’s name goes in the boxscore under the D.P. column when Cassie submits her ass to a pounding and a half. Joelean’s fans will also be happy to note that her spectacular bod sees a lot of action throughout, including a girl-girler with Scarlet, in a feature that is as wacky in concept as they come.
Goddaughter
Tuesday, February 3rd, 2009 | Reviews | No Comments
Goddaughter DVD cover
Movie Review by Gene Ross from www.adultfyi.com
ROME - A story that’s still making the rounds involves a Swiss couple accused of committing obscene acts because they made love in a bar lavatory in Como, Italy. But an Italian court ruled that the act didn’t breach public decency laws so long as the door remained shut.
State prosecutors originally demanded a six-month prison term for the male defendant and a five-month term for his partner. Instead, an Italian judge threw the case out and fined the man something like $246. However in the Arrow Productions porn classic, The Goddaughter, the Italian Don, played by Fred Lincoln takes a slightly different tact.
When Don Genardi discovers that his Goddaughter [Cameo] has been screwing the scion of the rival Spinelli family {Mark Wallace], he has his strong arm, Giuseppi, [Joey Silvera] whack him. An abrupt termination of the Romeo & Juliet theme, it would appear. Which is kind of a shame because Wallace and Cameo essay, with rugged, limb gripping voracity, what may be the feature’s best sex scene. But Wallace will never know it or accept an award for it with a bunch of slugs buried deep in his ponytail.
Now you’d figure that Cameo - one of the true hotties of early Nineties porn- would be upset because her main squeeze is hugging a a very cold bed sheet. Not necessarily. She reacts more to the fact that The Don elects to send her to America to get out of the way of any Spinelli family reprisals. “She’ll get over it- the Spinellis won’t,” The Don informs Giuseppi.
With five parts to flesh out the voluminous story, the casual pace of Goddaughter has more breathing room for dialogue and character play and less urgency towards the usually quick porn wrap up. Cameo continues her quest towards spoiled brat immortality in the states [not counting a hurried trip back to Italy for a lakeside conference with The Don].
And Alicyn Sterling, playing her cousin, is a luscious and adorable polar opposite with legs that absolutely can’t be beat. But it’s also here that Cameo becomes an instrumental part of a plan to get at Victor Del Vecchio [Randy West] who’s attempting a take over of the Genardi family operations. Cameo relinquishes her body to the cause by obtaining info from West via pillow talk, while Giuseppi grabs an agenda-free fling in the Jacuzzi with the bikini-wearing Stacey Nichols, a friend of Sterlings.
And during Part 1, Sterling’s body guard, and, by extension Cameo’s [Nick Knight] probably spends more time keeping on the good side of his psycho girlfriend Summer Knight who’s body definitely needs more than one guard.
Parts 1 to 5 are available from Arrow Productions at www.xxxdeepthroat.com
Debbie Does Dallas
Tuesday, February 3rd, 2009 | Reviews | No Comments
Debbie Does Dallas movie poster
Movie Review by Gene Ross from www.adultfyi.com
Suckola week both for the Democrats and the Dallas Cowboys. Figuring the Demos a long shot at best on election night with no prospects of a political cliffhanger I saddled up with one of the great porn films of all time, Debbie Does Dallas from Arrow Productions, www.xxxdeepthroat.com
Debbie’s a film I hadn’t seen since Dallas first won a Super Bowl under Tom Landry. And age, dare I say, has been a lot kinder to Debbie [the adorable Bambi Woods] and her gang than the present reincarnation of the Cowboys. Which aren’t the Dallas team of the title, though the mistake could easily be made and is certainly encouraged.
Aside from the trademark obviousness of Debbie’s ass accentuating blue & white cheerleading accessories, what strikes you immediately about this production is its broad similarities to an earlier mainstream T & A flick called The Cheerleaders, a film that certainly set some standards of its own as far as the Kleenex concession at the local Drive-Ins.
But Debbie goes lengths better with perky blowjobs, smarmy older man-young girl seduction situations, loads of up the naked ass camera work and an epic nude shower sequence that predates the one witnessed in the Phoebe Cates classic, Private School for Girls.
Debbie, whose resemblance is startling to contemporary porn’s Katie Morgan, has earned a tryout to the big leagues. But, sadly, as a high school girl she doesn’t have the requisite funds to make the trip to Texas. Which, as any woman of ingenuity knows, is never a problem as long as you’re willing to make some moral concessions and look the other way. The men certainly are willing, and the pizzazz element in this moral quandary is lent in one of those great moments of cinematic sexual tension when Mr. Greenfield [R. Bolla] at the sporting good store is willing to up the traveling expenses ante from an original $10 to see Debbie’s tits to much more if she’d be willing to go a lot further. [Theirs is one of the classic sex scenes of all time, by the way.]
When Debbie explains the obvious remedy to her cheerleading group, they all decide to make the trip along with her and set out to raise money the old fashioned way- by ploy and seduction. In a scene that surprisingly remains intact, one hairy Ron Jeremy clone who’s about to share the ball girl with his tennis buddy, remarks about all the 15 year-old girls they’re surrounded with. Whoa.
Keep that thought in mind especially when the seedy looking Mr. Bradley, one of the parents, offers two girls who’ve just gotten soaked to the skin from washing his car, $25 if they’d let him kiss them all over. Which somehow translates to him creaming on their young, nubile butt cheeks after a rousing threeway that doesn’t involve smooching.
Another of the girls [Misty Winter] in Debbie’s troupe lands a job at a candle shop- the surroundings of which inspire her to masturbate quite energetically with the phallic-shaped product. Caught in the act, she’s bribed into another threeway with the shop’s owner [Eric Edwards] and his wife [Robin Byrd]. And what shady high school dealings would be complete without the comeuppance of a teacher-student meeting?
Mr. Biddle [Jake Teague] feels the urgency to get to the bottom of Donna’s [Merril Townsend] cocksucking activities between the library book stalls. While Donna’s boyfriend, by the way, is an almost unrecognizable Herschel Savage who’s gone on to play the Mr. Biddle character in more recent teen porn flicks. But where most of those features leave you with a sense of third and long yardage, Debbie Does Dallas throws the bomb time and again and scores at will.
You can buy this movie at Arrow Productions Classic Collection at www.xxxdeepthroat.com
Goddaughter 2
Tuesday, February 3rd, 2009 | Reviews | No Comments
Goddaughter 2
Movie Review from Gene Ross at www.adultfyi.com
The leggy and beautiful Cameo who essays the title role in this five-part series http://www.adultfyi.com/read.aspx?ID=6805 continues to be the hot ticket as Goddaughter 2 ties up a couple of loose plot ends. One of those involves Cameo’s lover, Victor Del Vecchio [Randy West] a two-bit mobster with a mullet who has eyes on the takeover of Don Genardi’s crime empire.
Nothwithstanding the fact that this happens to be Cameo’s Godfather whom she’s going to protect at all costs, Del Vechio, on general principle, is basically a piece of shit whose absence from the face of the earth would be welcome in most quarters- even among his own men. And this is where Goddaughter 2 begins trotting out the Arrow Productions contract girls as well as other big names of that porn era like Ron Jeremy, Steve Drake, and Taylor Wane- Wane playing the part of a hitwoman assigned to shove a barrel of a gun up West’s ass after they’ve finished a sweaty mattress session. Never mind the fact that Wane shows up arbitrarily at West’s door with him having no clue who she is.
Cameo, too, has snuggled on the pillow with Randy long enough to learn that there’s going to be an attempt to double cross the Don and leave him sitting redhanded with a shipment of coke instead of olive oil when the Feds come calling. And, if you’re any fan of The Sopranos, you must realize that a double-double cross is in store- one that’s arranged by Joey Silvera who had been assigned to protect Cameo after she’s been sent to the states for her own good when her lover from the old country, Anthony Spinelli, gets iced.
While Joey and Cameo muster up the moxie to finally fuck and get this whole wise-talking, sexual tension-thing over with, the heat assignments are spread out and varied. Dominique’s a stripper who interrupts West’s card game long enough for him to put on a show for his goons. And when he’s through with her, there’s enough choice dark meat left over for Derrick Lane, Drake and Jeremy. But the real play that puts points on the board is the sweaty coupling in a surveillance van between Cameo and Mickey Ray- Cameo, proving that she’s well adept at playing all sides and all ends against the middle, if you get the drift. Part 3 awaits.
From the Arrow Productions Classic Collection, www.xxxdeepthroat.com
Goddaughter 3
Tuesday, February 3rd, 2009 | Reviews | No Comments
Goddaughter 3 DVD cover
Movie Review was by Gene Ross at www.adultfyi.com
Only in porn. Only in porn can Marc Wallice playing a gangster in the first installment of Goddaughter rise from the ashes of a mob hit and become another character as he does in Goddaughter 3. [From Arrow Productions, www.xxxdeepthroat.com.]
That Wallice, who plays Cameo’s boyfriend Anthony Spinelli, gets shot and killed after their love duet in Part 1 is mere technicality. And, apparently, not beyond the scope of porn to rationalize.
Or that’s the gist you get by the fact that Cameo now lends Wallice less than an authentic double take when she’s introduced to his character at a mountain retreat. Wallice is a thug assigned as Cameo’s bodyguard while she’s on the lam. In general terms, running headlong into someone who looks exactly like your murdered lover, might call for a more emotional response, you’d think. But, again, this is porn.
Wallice, playing a distant cousin or something of the Spinellis [thus explaining the resemblance] is situated, one might gather, to whack Cameo as a matter of family vengeance and pride. And you’d figure Cameo to grasp this life-threatening concept which may or may not be satisfied in Part 4. For the time being, however, clarity fails to register with her.
If nothing else, though, Wallice lands two of the best couplings in the vid, including the best of the series. At least so far. Wallice’s first assignment has him on a porch in up and over style humping the shit out of Cameo’s cousin, played by Aja. But the real scorcher comes at night when he’s locked in mortal sexual combat with hit woman Taylor Wane as a reflection of pool water bathes them in Las Vegas-type neon hues. You’d think that Wane’s earlier run-in with Ron Jeremy whose boss she whacked in Part 2 [Randy West], might have set her sex drive back a decade or two. Yet Wane proves resilient, either under Jeremy’s hairy tummy or hairy jokes. The hotel room interrogation scene is essentially Ron 101 with the flying patter and corny jokes.
Meanwhile, another cousin, Heather Hart, has her hands full with Jerry Butler, who’s apparently dyed his hair black for the occasion to give him a more Neopolitan look.
From the Arrow Productions Classic Collection, www.xxxdeepthroat.com
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