Acid Dreams
ostensibly concerns the covert use of LSD, sex and mind control in espionage
by the CIA during the 1950s. The opening minutes affect a film noir style
as a reporter explains how he met a scientist who discloses the experiments
conducted by the central character, Frank Black (Tyce Bune). However,
any notion that a strong narrative based around this potentially intriguing
premise might drive the movie along is swiftly cast aside as director
Ninn instead focuses on depicting Black's own experiences with the drugs
as well as those of the subjects of the experiments in a series of sex
scenes that prove remarkably conventional underneath stylistic trappings
that are ladled on with a heavy hand.
Through a Spartan dream landscape and visions of Black's female colleague
(Nikita Denise) in a pink ball gown, the first depiction of Black's own
drug experiment turns out to be a surprisingly standard sexual encounter.
Bune and Denise copulate in some sort of industrial boiler room, a symbolic
telephone on the floor. She rides hard and stares at the camera in a desperate
attempt to win approval. The camera drifts off to the pipe work. It's
not a good start.
Minimal development of the scanty storyline occurs between scenes, and
with acting and dialogue like this it's not hard to see why the sex gets
priority. Back in the "real world", Nikita's character challenges Black
over his use of the drugs. Events just drift over to another scene, where
some agent or other is secretly filmed while being enticed into a druggy
sexual scenario by two tarts (Wanda Curtis and Shay Sights). Another trip
begins, fast cut editing whisking us to another industrial location where
the two women appear with fake tits bulging from their latex costumes
and treat the poor boy mean. He doesn't react too well, and it's all terribly
harsh. Underneath it all, it's still a suck/fuck/anal/facial number. The
girls are plastered in so much make up that, while giving the man a drool-soaked
blowjob, Shay looks more like a drag queen than a woman. Exaggerated teasing,
pouting and posing and some pretty mean spirited attitude during some
ultimately lame and boring sex all makes for quite unpleasant viewing,
and that's not to mention the profoundly irritating editing.
More on that later, but as some sort of realisation of what's happening
strikes the agent, in his narcotic stupor he manages to shoot himself
in "reality" and in the dream, which is a neat trick. But there's no explanation
of what this is about - instead, it's time for Black's next trip, which
takes the form of an unspeakably bland sex scene. On a sweeping staircase
and lit in soft orangey yellow tones, Bune couples with blonde Michelle
Michaels, arguably the only pretty girl in the whole movie (Nikita Denise,
maybe). Accompanied by what I can only imagine is an ironic soundtrack
of bossa nova tinkering, every move they make is desperately overplayed
as if to emphasise how terribly sexy it all is. But it's not. It's bloody
boring! It seems to go on forever. Yes, she's pretty, yes, she's got sweet
pert titties, but the whole thing plays like one of those extremely tiresome
soft-core flicks used to pad out late night TV schedules.
Something about the following sequence of fast-cut and seemingly random
imagery bugs me. It all seems so frightfully intense and I'm pondering
the fast shutter speed shots used to capture the droplets of water, until
I realise the indoor rainstorm images, as Tyce's character is freaking
out in a dentist's chair while being soaked, remind me of the hilarious
video for George Michael's super-camp hit Fast Love, so it's hard to take
it seriously after that.
Besides, the whole ensuing sequence, presumably designed to imply Black's
visions during his trip, is just a string of visual clichés, from the
fast cuts to yet more industrial locations to the ludicrously overstated
posturing of Wanda, Shay and later the butch blonde Heather Tristany.
She makes a dramatic entrance and flexes her considerable muscles over
Wanda and Shay in some quite preposterous "lesbian" action. Why a CIA
agent of the 1950s might be having acid-fuelled visions of a crop-haired,
fake-breasted blonde musclewoman in latex is never quite explained, nor
why lots of water is pouring over Wanda as she masturbates. This is meant
to be sexy? Oh, I see.
Tyce emerges into the mix and has another firm but resolutely conventional
porno sex scene with Shay. She's in the latex outfit she wore earlier
and looks no better this time around. Big implanted breasts. Drool a-plenty
during the blowjob. A come facial. Slow-mo shots of Shay lapping strands
of drool or come from Tyce's cock. That's it.
Back in the room where the secret filming takes place, another man is
lured into the experiment. Steve Holmes plays a man who thinks he's hired
a regular hooker, and with her orange hair and "enhanced" breasts Mercedes
Ashley certainly looks the part. But she's slipped the man a little something
in his drink and as he talks shit about white dicks and black dicks to
her, things start to spin. Literally. They just wave the camera about
until a black man emerges out of the bed in an almost laughably amateurish
effect. The production values are oddly inconsistent - from earlier CGI
effects to this surprisingly crude contrivance.
Holmes' character is forced to watch as Miles Long and then Sledge Hammer
take turns with Mercedes in a truly grim sex scene, that would be hard
enough to watch without the infuriatingly vague camera moves and needless
motion blur effects. This may be effective in implying the required altered
state of mind but it's all done with a total lack of subtlety. "Ghastly"
is the word I noted. After the men all come on various parts of Mercedes'
body, the scene ends with Steve's character in some mental distress on
the bed. Again, that's it. No explanation.
The final scene appears similarly unconnected, as Nikita Denise, dressed
in a black gown and stockings, plays pool and is then taken by two men
(Manuel Ferrara and a bearded man) while Frank Black clutches a drink
and looks pensive. Nikita's tongue flicking with Manuel is about the sexiest
thing in the whole damn movie, and that is not saying much. Lots of saliva
during the blowjobs and pussy eating, fucking, mean attitude, anal, DP
and facials - in that order. Again lit with that orange glow, this scene
is edited at a slower pace but still suffers from the vague camera moves
and an overemphasis on close-ups. And with a trite line or two as a supposed
conclusion from the reporter who began the whole thing, that really is
it. The end.
Overall
Not to put too fine a point on it, Acid Dreams embodies everything I really
hate about porn. Every visual and performance cliché in the book is employed
- the fast cuts, the dissolves, the soft focus, gratuitous visual effects,
the industrial locations, the camera stares, licking the latex, the "nasty"
expressions. The camera irritatingly wavers around; shots are pulled out
of focus in an annoying affectation. I find the idea that all of this
indulgent visual trickery somehow constitutes "artistic" direction especially
infuriating, as it is seems imposed with virtually no regard for the subject.
Worst of all is the terribly overplayed and impersonal sex. There's nothing
natural about it at all and everyone looks miserable.
Although Ninn adds all the things that supposedly contribute to the notion
of "production values" in terms of lighting, camera style, costumes, locations
and visual effects (including some minor moments of CGI), I can't help
feeling that all of the visual embellishments do nothing to enhance his
subjects. Coupled with heavy make up and latex outfits, Ninn has simply
succeeded in taking some harsh looking women and making them appear harder.
A lot of this movie simply looks ugly to me.
One could argue that this is Ninn's style and as such all of the above
is no surprise, but I simply feel that if that's the case then it's a
style that does not make for what I consider good porn. Setting aside
the jumbled and exceptionally vague story, if it even amounts to such,
that merely acts as a very flimsy platform upon which Ninn imposes sex
scenes that feel entirely out of place, I find nothing about this movie
that seems sexier or more exciting or more insightful or profound, for
all of its pretension. Quite the reverse: Acid Dreams feels superficial,
heartless and alienating.
Some irony might be found in the fact that, through an oversight, printing
error or other unknown cause, the Private logo seems to have disappeared
from the cover.
DVD Comments
The colour palette for the movie is perhaps intentionally muted but the
reproduction of colours on the disc does seem rather flat and I wonder
if it really represents a faithful transfer of the original footage. It's
sometimes hard to tell how good the picture quality is as the images are
smudged by soft focus and other effects. The sound is pretty good with
lots of loud original music and clear dialogue. One might have expected
a production like this to come with a wealth of extras, but surprisingly
there's no "behind the scenes", just the usual competent job from Private:
audio and subtitle languages, photos, cast and production notes and trailers.
|
