Porno Holocaust (Joe D'Amato, 1981)

Most men, when put in a situation where lives are at risk, would politely decline a hysterical woman's impromptu offer to perform guilt-free oral sex on him in a tropical setting. But then again, it's obvious from the get-go that Captain Hardy isn't your average man. Hell, he's not even your average captain. "Oral sex in the tropics," that should be his middle name, because it seems like he's on the receiving end of a sun-baked blow job for the majority of this movie. I guess you could shorten his middle name to something like, Captain "Sunny Head" Hardy, or just join together "oral sex in the tropics" to make the Latvian-sounding, "Oralseksen Thetropiks." Either way, he's getting sucked off more often than a garden hose at an insufficiently catered backyard birthday party in the middle of a heat wave. Maybe it was the way his hairless nut sack glistened as it bathed in the uncompromising glow of the sun's shimmering rays, or maybe it had something to do with his virile mustache (it's a little known fact that chicks prefer to fornicate with men with strong facial hair). Well, whatever it was, I was extremely jealous of the male lead in Porno Holocaust, Joe D'Amato's mildly racist, extremely sexist ode to radioactive poontang. Even though his wad was pretty much nonexistent in terms of voluminosity, the amount of attention his barely erect member receives in this movie is enough to drive you up a wall made entirely out of broken dreams and partially trodden on cucumber slices. I don't know why I'm reacting this way. After all, it's common knowledge that I abhor watching non-transsexuals receive head. However, I don't think it's got anything to do with dome-o-phobia, or even tonsillitis, for that matter, I think it's got something to do the frequency in which the film's captain is orally serviced. And if there's one quality I hate in a man, it's oral sex-related greed.

On one level, the film could be seen as an erotic instructional guide on how to perform cunnilingus on driftwood. Yet, on another, completely different level than the level I just mentioned, the film is a cautionary tale about the dangers of atomic weaponry in the late twentieth century. While I like the sound of those levels, the offensively titled Porno Holocaust is mostly about killing time between sex scenes. As in, how are we going to fill the chunks of time when the not quite aptly named Captain Hardy (Mark Shannon) is not getting his pee pee licked by brunette scientists with small breasts?

Driving through the streets of, oh, let's say, Santo Domingo in his jeep, Captain Hardy–you can totally tell, by the way, that he's a sailor by not only the cut of his uniform, but also by the cut of his jib–is smirking because he knows that his cock is about to be inundated with a wide array of oral and vaginal riches over the course of the next few days. Since the scene where Captain Hardy is driving around the city is still going, let me take a second to comment on the film's official theme song by Nico Fidenco. Boring its way into your head like a playful head cold, you might think that a song this catchy has no business being associated with a film called "Porno Holocaust," but it's obvious that the esteemed Joe D'Amato (Beyond the Darkness) and his committed cast have put a lot of effort into justifying their presence alongside such an amazing piece of music.

After meeting with his crew, a bunch of misogynists who think women are bad luck (wait until he tells them their passengers are not only women, but scientists, too), Captain Hardy flirts with one of these so-called "lady scientists." Lounging by the hotel's pool in a white bikini, Annie Dorman (Lucia Ramirez), a racially ambiguous (think: Laura Gemser meets Jennifer Balgobin) nuclear physicist, chats with Captain Hardy about who the fuck cares. Please excuse my indifference when came to recalling the minutes of their, what I'm sure was, interesting conversation. You have to understand, Dr. Dorcin de Saint Jacques (Annj Goren) is about to saunter onscreen, and whenever the gorgeous Dr. Dorcin de Saint Jacques, who prefers to be called "Contessa Saint Jacques," graces us with her lithesome presence, my mind turns to mush.

Walking over to where Annie and Captain Hardy are conversing with one another with a whorish brand of unfermented aplomb, Contessa Saint Jacques, a stylish zoologist who is wearing a peach-coloured string bikini like her life depended on it, seems to realize almost immediately that she's missed the boat when it comes to claiming squatter's rights to the thrusting future of Hardy's penis. It's a good thing Annj Goren is playing this role, because only an actress of her calibre would be able to convey the emotional whirlwind that the Contessa experiences in this moment. Check out her back as she listens to Annie and Captain Hardy blather on and on about the island he's supposed to be taking them to, it's a textbook example of what I like to call dignified stillness. In fact, she's so stationary, that the loose strings dangling from her bikini top seem to have a mind of their own.

The other half of the science expedition, oh, haven't you heard? a group of scientists want to visit this deserted island to run some tests, and Captain Hardy is the man they have hired to take them there. Anyway, we meet Dr. Lemoir (George Eastman) and Simone (Dirce Funari), two married scientists who are struggling to iron out the kinks of their burgeoning sex life. Let's be honest, Simone is frustrated by her husband's lack of enthusiasm during love making, and upset over the fact that his rapid expiry rate in the sack is failing to satisfy her womanly needs.

It has gotten so bad that Simone makes a joke about leaving the door of her hotel room unlocked in the hope that a man with a functioning penis might break in and rape her. Luckily, Contessa Saint Jacques shows up just in time to calm her frazzled nerves by administering some well-applied lesbian sex. Of course, judging by how hostile they were to each other, the chances of there being any lesbian sex, forget about the well-applied variety, looked pretty remote. You see, after the Contessa makes this crack about her husband's impotence, Simone returns the favour by mocking her inability to snag Captain Hardy away from Annie (who's currently being wined and dined by the Captain as we speak). The slight against the Contessa's man-luring capability causes her to slap Simone in the face. Not the type of person to be bullied by a woman with a boyish haircut, Simone hits the Contessa in the face as well.

After they have finished slapping each other in the face, Contessa Saint Jacques plunges her erect left nipple into the modestly spacious confines of Simone's symmetrical ass crack, and follows that up by devouring every inch of her nimble frame with the care of a fun-loving wildebeest. Awash with brunette hair of every shade imaginable, this not-so crazy session of lesbian make-up sex is dominated by the Contessa, as she does most of the scene's heavy lifting when it came to giving the gift of cunni and anilingus.

This heavy lifting trend carries over to the next scene when we find the Contessa paying to have her wart-covered holes poked and prodded by a couple of Dominican penises. If you're wondering why Simone isn't there with the Contessa to make sure the two male prostitutes treat her with respect, your guess is as good as mine. Anyway, with Simone off doing whatever, the Contessa is ready to get double-teamed by two guys at once. Standing fully dressed before her double dose of dangling man-candy, Contessa Saint Jacques starts off by removing her red blazer. Then she pulls down her red skirt (flinging it off camera after both her legs had broken free of its wooly grip). Moving on to her white blouse, she unbuttons all the buttons and proceeds to toss it where her jacket and skirt are currently lying in a state of crumpled chaos. And last, but not least, she doffs her black panties. Slowly hiking them down with a purposeful hiking motion, the Contessa flings them off with a cavalier grace (she is a "contessa" after all), and nakedly awaits her double-helping of dark cock.

What makes Porno Holocaust so great, besides the fact that it's called, "Porno Holocaust," is that Joe D'Amato can turn the simple removal of a woman's clothing into an erotic event. Think about it, we've already seen Annj Goren naked at this point in this film, yet he still manages to create an air of excitement around the prospect of seeing her naked again. Which, I've been told, is no small feat. Attacking her body with multiple kisses and mussing her boyish hair, the two prostitutes do to the Contessa what the Constessa did to Simone in her hotel room. Only in this case, there's eighty percent more pelvic thrusting involved. After performing duel handjobs, along with duel blow jobs, the scene morphs into your typical mfm threesome scene, as all the usual positions are employed. The great thing about this scene–you know, other than the disco music throbbing on the soundtrack and the scuffed up bottoms of the Contessa's tan pumps–was the fact that both Annj and one of the guys (the fella with the sweat-drenched hairy bum) both look directly into the camera at one point.

Meanwhile, on a nearby beach, Captain Hardy and Annie are enjoying a spot of outdoor consensual sexual intercourse. Don't bother taking a long, good look at Captain Hardy's balls as they plow toward Annie's moist undercarriage, because you'll be sick of them by the time Porno Holocaust is over. At any rate, after they're done, we're subjected to longest walk and talk scene ever to be committed to film. Okay, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. But still, as far as babbling incessantly about radiation goes, this scene is the Gettysburg Address of mobile gabbiness. Let's just say, I was plenty relieved when they finally got on board Captain Hardy's vessel. Oh, and by "vessel," I don't mean his penis, I'm referring to his boat.

Yay! After much chit chat, they finally arrive at their radioactive destination. As they're disembarking, we can't help but notice that someone or something is watching then from the bushes (the sound of heavy breathing and eerie music is added to the point-of-view lurking to emphasize the baneful nature of their ominous presence). As the menfolk set up camp, the Contessa and Simone don their skimpiest bikinis and sit facing one another on a piece of driftwood. As the waves crash against the loose chunks of wood that litter the beach, Simone starts to remove the Contessa's beach attire. Still smarting from the reaming she received at the hands of those Dominican prostitutes, the Contessa is open to the idea of Simone treating her swollen pussy with kid lesbian gloves. And faster than you can say, the circumference of Dirce Funari's ass is quite pleasing, the two of them are sitting naked, crotch-to-crotch on a huge log.

As they're busy scissoring the day away, Captain Hardy and Annie decide to do the sex on the beach thing as well. While I can't really blame him for wanting to penetrate the goodies located between Annie's chocolatey thighs instead of picking up radioactive sand crabs, I'm tired of looking at his balls. Sure, we get a wispy hint of George Eastman's genitals. But I can't subsist on wispy hints alone, I need to feel the wrinkled fullness of his haphazardly shaven scrotum sloshing around inside my herpes-free mouth. Returning from her log encounter with the Contessa, Simone, now wearing a dark one piece bathing suit, tells her husband all about the mutated algae she found on the beach. Noticing a lull in the algae-based conversation, Simone decides to fill the awkward void by pinning her husband against a palm tree. Extracting ten well-timed pelvic thrusts from her husband before his genitals began to leak semen, Simone was literally beaming with pride as she dismounted her potent steed. Unfortunately, her pride quickly turns to horror as the entity who has been watching them ever since they landed on the island finally makes his presence felt.

A disfigured man wearing rags, the so-called "ape-like creature" kills the members of Captain Hardy's crew (their forehead's resemble plates of mushy baked beans after he's through with them), and grabs Annie all for himself. Tucking her away in his cave for safe keeping, the radioactive madman focuses his energy on the other women on the island. You know how I said that Annj Goren did most of the heavy lifting during her first sex scene Dirce Funari? Well, this could be applied to the movie on the whole, as Annj's body is put through the ringer in terms of being violated in a tropical setting. You have to admire her for the way she puts herself out there. Seriously, while most of the actors appear in three or four sex scenes, Annj does her thing in five: One straight sex scene (sans cunnilingus, bastard), one mfm threesome, one rape scene, and two lesbian scenes.

While the drably attired nutcase is romancing Annie in his cave (he brings her flowers and fruit), the Contessa, Captain Hardy, and a male scientist with a beard whose name began with an 'L' are still trying to figure out what's going on. I'll admit, while Captain Hardy is attempting to cut a coconut with a machete, I thought I had accidentally changed the channel to the latest installment of Survivor. But that thought quickly melted away, as the Contessa, her breath, no doubt, reeking of Scotch whiskey, decides right then and there that she wants to have sex with Captain Hardy. Did I lose some respect for the Contessa as she went about removing her khaki-coloured clothing? I guess. But you got to give up to the Contessa, not even a million radioactive madmen are gonna prevent her from getting her, as the kids in 1998 might say, "freak on." Hey, if Captain Hardy can have sex in a rowboat, than surely the Contessa can engage in some off-the-cuff campsite sex. I mean, so what if there's a psychokiller on the loose whose funky spunk makes your junk bleed?

Am I watching a porno, or am I watching a horror movie? I was never quite sure. And that's part of the charm of Porno Holocaust, as it causes you to constantly keep tabs on your mental well-being. Of course, most people are too lazy to keep tabs on their mental well-being, as they would rather, to sort of quote Mr. Burns from The Simpsons, "wallow in a tepid pool of their own crapulence." Aroused while horrified is the ultimate form of cinematic catharsis, and Joe D'Amato provides both in equal measure. Is there anything else to say? Let me see. Cunnilingus. Driftwood. Nope, I think that pretty much covers it. Porno Holocaust, bitches!

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