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THE STORY SO FAR (Joy Kiss who?) |
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In a nutshell: French director Pierre Woodman is back to the tropical Dreamlands (Bali, The Seychelles, Kawai) where his career (a highly enviable one)
started, amidst flying rumors of the cruelest kind, not so many years ago ('93).
It doesn't matter what you might have heard through the grapevine. With Michel Ricaud tragically gone, Berth Milton Jr., head of the Private bullpen, bet his last (metaphorical) dime
on this dark horse and WON. And girls fucking on white beaches, or surrounded by coconut palms,
became for Private what bunny ears or blond triplets are for Playboy.
So, in some ways, for the bottled world of porn, this is a little event, like Coppola making a new film about the Vietnam War,
Tom eating Jerry, or Frampton coming alive again.
In 1891, instead, French painter Paul Gauguin abandoned glory, family and daily job to travel to distant islands, thus becoming the symbol
(and the abused metaphor, sorry!) of the man who walks away from Western Civilization looking for a different way of life, more innocent and primitive.
He didn't just call a travel agency, pack his bags and leave, though. Just like explorers, vagabonds and poets, his love of the faraway places he roamed to
was deep and sincere. It wasn't lust, what he felt for those Polynesians. Instead, in them he saw a new, untouched beauty. Until he cut off his ear and started painting three-eyed women, of course.
Joy Kiss was a swan-like beauty from Moscow who, around 1995, went to the Seychelles Islands in the company of Pierre Woodman.
No Western World's cold comforts to leave behind, in her case. Like many other Russian girls of those
Frontier Days, Joy had wide and innocent eyes, and I swear I saw true passion in her,
smoldering under the artificiality and the implied sleaziness of porn.
An anonymous Pirate Magazine editor came up with those lines about Gauguin and the Tropics. And I was the bewitched traveller
who had just laid his eyes on a new and undiscovered beauty.
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THE SEX |
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No, I'm not gonna play this nostalgicaly, like a Tom Waits barfly, crying over girls called
Yelena or Tatiana and bitching about the beer being too warm and the women being too cold.
Hustler/Woodman is still elegant and personal porn, shot with competence and technical savvy,
not to mention a general vision of this proverbially underestimated art (and that's
what usually separates the real artist from the hack).
You can call it a glass menagerie, if you want, a place where nothing ever changes and the wind hardly blows.
The only visible signs that time has passed and things have indeed changed are the ones on Pierre's face.
Living hard does take its toll. And talk about a hedonistic life-style!
Woodman's not simply a porn photographer: he's a 360° bigger-than-life character, like Hef or Vito Corleone.
People envy him so much because he lives a life so over the top that it looks fabricated,
even if this has turned him, in the eyes of many watchers, into a character, more than an artist and a professional.
But I'd still take Woodman anytime. Over all the newbies and the wannabes, the little school teachers, like Adamo, or
the craftsmen, like Thring.
Yet, let's make it very clear, Exxxotica is another compilation of vignettes cinically put together by Pierre and Hustler.
There are two different categories of reasons why this formula is so disappointing.
Hustler is offering Woodman (and the rest of the French directors that signed for Flynt in the last two years)
as an "exotic" product, with "quotation marks", like some fancy import stuff that needs to be filtered
for US audiences.
And, on the other hand, it's pretty obvious to me that Woodman doesn't care that much anymore about the finished product.
He loves what comes before (meeting the girls, fucking them, travelling with them) and all the parts in between (shooting with the
girls and the gang). But, after that, he stops bothering. And the girls? The revolving doors keep revolving, at a
relativistic speed, like in a Bugs Bunny cartoon, these days. And it's really hard to keep track. The teasing game
doesn't work, if a Superfuckers Hostess gets her share of fucking months and months later, when you had almost forgotten about her.
The clips get produced at super speed and then casually added to an XXX or an Anal Intensive, whatever, who cares. Hustler's gods do play dice, after all.
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THE GIRLS |
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Sanur Beach, Bali, 2:24 P.M.
Best buds Bob and Pascal are walking down the beach, when somebody calls them from the top of a cliff:
it's a half-naked chick. "Hey, up here!" The two consider the offer for a while and then decide to give it a go.
"Wanna climb up?". "Why not?" Titof replies, as a modern days Ernest Borgnine. So, up they go. Pascal knows his way around the ladies,
"Look! Nice view... And so are you", and, in a blink, our lady is already sitting between the two squeezing their crotches.
Oh, this is so good, like an intro to a joke, 'how do you fit an elephant into a VW?'.
And all the lines are delivered in the international language of Hustler's crap dubbing.
However, if your little friend has gone hiding under the couch, all sad and wimpy, call him back. See, the locations are gorgeous but the girls are even better,
like a raft of super-models stranded on a porn desert island.
The lady on the cliff is 19 years old Hungarian Drimla ("The most beautiful pussy I've ever met, second only to Tania's", ipse dixit).
So, we're served a closeup of the girl's labia, pretty and succulent. Halfway between her shaven pussy and her belly button there's a
very large and distracting tattoo, but her body is tight and perfect. Great eyes, great mouth. Anal is not part of the deal, but Drimla fucks and sucks
with passion and, don't know what it was, the sea, the colors, the aristocratic beauty of the girl, but my little friend enjoyed the scene very much.
She finishes Pascal in her mouth while Bob comes on her cheek and in her hair.
Hopefully, and as promised, Drimla will be back in Platinum 3.
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Alphone Island, The Seychelles, 4:11 P.M.
It's Hakim with Angel, the Russian dancer girl from Superfuckers 14. He drives her to the beach
where the two meet with Titof. More Monty Python: "Let me ask you something", says Hakim in his best fake voice,
"Do you like pussy?". "Well, sorta". Luckly for them, this angel is completely unaware of their crazy bullshitting.
She's wearing a pretty pastel outfit and pigtails, and she's just too good to be true. Angel is more generous than Drimla and soon
Titof is abusing her lovely butthole while the girl is laying on her side. More anal in rcw and then doggie, by Hakim, while the girl 69s with Titof
(you don't see that very often). In Sup 14 Angel was a total kitten and she could have melt my butter at -459 degrees Fahrenheit with her sexiness.
She has some hard facial expressions here, especially when the two smooth talkers double-team her. In the end, Hakim dribbles a bit (and no encore), while
the guy-that-gets-to-fuck-all-the-girls-I-like, Titof, performs much better, streaking Angel's nose and forehead. Bye, bye, kitty. Will I ever see you again?
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Nusa Dua Beach, Bali, 11:43 P.M.
Pokahontas tantalized us back in that same Superfuckers, so now she deserves the attentions
of Mr. Clara Morgane (or former Mr. Clara Morgane, if we are to believe the gossips) Greg Centauro (here spelt
"Centaureau". Can this guy be more cool?). The two kiss and fondle each other like a real couple, then
the amazing brunette (pretty as a ballerina on top of an old and valuable music box)
kneels in front of the Centauro-guy and sucks him, and when she finally rides him she starts to dance sexily, with her hands in her hair.
Ahhh, thank god I'm wearing this raincoat. At a closer look, Pokahontas' traits are not so perfect,
kind of a big nose, but now she's offering her pristine ass to her lover, so I tend to forget the details.
The Chef's final touch are four (4) drops of come on the girl's lips.
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Pu'uO'o Rainforest, Kawai, Hawaii, 4:58 P.M.
Prisoners in the cover of a cheap love novel, Bob and Electra are in Kawai, kissing under the rainfall. Another 19 years old Hungarian,
that Pierre describes as quiet and charming, and kind of a loner (with a velvet "chatte", of course), Electra looks pretty
out of touch to me, the kind of elegant beauty that only your flashier and cooler friends can date. She has such a great body,
with pointed tits and a pierced clit. If you feel impatient, yes, Terminator does her butt, and in various positions, but then delivers
another mediocre shot.
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Desroche, The Seychelles, 2:34 P.M.
Curvaceous Nikolett is biding her time by the Ocean, while a doggie is doing some grooming next to her. Oh, and I'm so gonna snap.
We probably are on the beach of some tourist resort, and EVERYTHING LOOKS SO FAMILIAR! Is that the stone where Françoise was sitting?
And where's the big turtle? And what do you like better? My reminiscing or another Hakim/Titof story? Anyway. The two invite her on a boat ride,
and it all ends in sucking and fucking (and the second dp of Exxxotica), following the sea tradition.
Anal Intensive girl Nikolett does not look as exclusive as the rest of the girls,
but she's quite pretty and if you like some pulp, she's got pulp too.
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Akaka Fall, Kawai Hawaii, 5:34 P.M.
The scene stars Pascal (again) and the only exotic girl of the show, Sabrine Maui. Anal sex in abundance by that Hawaiian Fall
seen so many times on postcards and on tv, that it might as well be painted on cardboard. Probably influenced by Sergei M. Eisenstein's
theories on editing, Pierre makes Sabrine pee like a fountain while she goes down on Pascal.
Produced on 1/15/02, "Hustler Exxxotica Collector's Edition" is just a spinoff of the 100% Woodman vignette collection "Hustler XXX Video" (hence the triple X)
and has little to do, production-wise, with the 250.000 $ features that Pierre and Hustler promised, despite the great selection of girls.
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AND IN THE END |
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Sinners of the world: repent now! 'Cos Yazsmine is coming back, in the second volume of this series, for more exciting simulated hardcore. Anyway...
No, Exxxotica is not the real thing. But you know how they say that you can never go back home, and
this time it's probably true. Joy/Yelena went back to Moscow (or stayed in Paris, maybe to devote her life to the oldest profession in the world)
many years ago, as Woodman left Private to join another company.
I still love to come back to this place.
Everything here is perfect, as in a child's dream. Like Pinocchio's Land Of Toys or Homer Simpson's Land Of Chocolate. And fake like Love Boat.
And it's always summer, and a warm breeze always blows through the girls' hair, gently moving the sperm that drips from their mouths.
So, book your flight now.
December boys got it bad.
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For feedback mail to Sbando
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To David
All images, Hustler Video, 2002
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