Babyface 2 (Alex de Renzy, 1986)

Ahh, look at me. I'm staring in the general direction of a motion picture of some kind, and, get this, I want to write words about it for some inexplicable reason. Now, I wasn't entirely sure if they still made motion pictures, or, "movies," as they're sometimes referred to. So, just to be safe, I selected one from a time period I knew was rife was movies. 1986, baby! I also picked one that featured plenty of disgustingly beautiful guys unloading lukewarm seminal fluid all over ultra-soft girl flesh. Why? Because that's what I like to pretend I like to watch/wallow in. Duh. I ain't kidding around, when the exhaustive orgy at the centre of Alex de Renzy's Babyface 2 goes into overdrive, I knew I had made the right choice. Actually, I felt a warm tingly sensation (where? I'd rather not say) when Jamie Gillis emerges from the cake at a well-attended bachelorette party taking place in some unnamed porno-soaked iridescent pantie stain of a city. Call me seriously unwell, but I'd rank Jamie Gillis introduction in Babyface 2 to be easily one of the greatest moments in cinema. Hyperbole? Maybe. Well, definitely, maybe, as I don't remember what 'hyperbole' means exactly. Just a second... an exaggerated statement or claim. Right. It might be that, but I swear to Satan, the sight of Jamie Gillis being all gross and slovenly as the stripper at a well-attended bachelorette party taking place in some unnamed rape-tinged overused diaphragm of a city was fucking glorious. Proving that he still knows a thing or two about defying conventions (from an anal and allegorical point of view), Alex de Renzy casts Jamie Gillis instead of, oh, let's say, the frightfully dim Francois Papillon as the stripper.

 

It's a stroke of genius.

Get it? Stroke? Most of the people (i.e. dudes) watching this movie will, at some point, stroke their blood-filled cock for pleasure-related purposes. Don't blame them for doing so, they do the bulk of their thinking with those things. Hmmm, I wonder what Ernest Borgnine's final erection would have thought of that pun? (You mean his final deathbed erection?) Yeah, that erection. I wonder about stuff like that when I'm not ovulating.

Anyway, I happen to think Jamie Gillis is gorgeous... in Waterpower from the mid-1970s. However, this film is from the mid-1980s. In other words, Jamie Gillis, to put it bluntly, looks like a scumbag. Yet, despite his overt scumbaggery, I can't help but overtly love the creepy fucking fuckface fucker.

  
I want to elope with the mustard stains on his undershirt... do crack cocaine on the outskirts of a fever dream until the end of time.

Out of all the cocks that appear in this movie, I'd say the one attached to Kevin James is the most appealing from a I want to suck it standpoint.

The main draw from a "I like to bang hot chicks all night long" angle, is, of course, Taija Rae and Lois Ayres.

I know, I know, why didn't open with a protracted soliloquy on the merits of Taija Rae's robust thighs or Lois Ayres' to die for new wave hairdo. Well, first things first, things are slightly different now. My brain is soaking in the mucus-laden contents of Tyne Daly's designer colostomy bag. So... That being said, I was relieved to see Jerry Butler's working class pelvic region cause Taija Rae's thick, Philly-raised buttocks ripple as a direct result of his equally working class pelvic thrusts. I sorely missed watching Jerry Butler mount Taija Rae for sex-related purposes.

Rivers of jizz, years of despair.

In fact, there were many moments in this film that caused me to get somewhat emotional. I didn't cry, exactly. But I started to realize midway through Babyface 2 how much I love well made sleaze. And Babyface 2 is definitely well made. Granted, it's not quite up to the level of Alex de Renzy's Pretty Peaches, Pretty Peaches 2, Pretty Peaches 3, or even Femmes de Sade. But it's way better than most of the putrid garbage floating around out there.

You could say, the film's biggest star is the wind machine, which keeps a steady indoor breeze going for the entire length of the film's epic orgy scene. But I won't say that... even though I sort of just did.

No, the film's biggest asset is its all star cast.

  
It's no secret, Taija Rae, Lois Ayres and Jamie Gillis are three of my favourite actors. And each get plenty of screen time.   

 
However, in the early going, the film belongs to Lois Ayres and Kevin James (Johnny Rico from Café Flesh).

(Why did you watch the video for "Magic" by The Cars before starting this review?)

Excellent question. First off, it's a great song/video (Ric Ocasek is seen walking on water in a pool... in a gaudy blazer... 'nuff said). And secondly, rumour doesn't have it that Alex de Renzy got the inspiration to make Babyface 2 after seeing the video on MTV. Oh, the reason I didn't said, "rumour doesn't have it," instead of the usual "rumour has it," is because I just made it up. That being said, this film's main theme does sort of sound like "Magic" by The Cars.

 
Picking up Lois, his cheerleading girlfriend in his white Trans Am, Kevin takes her to a shed (the owner of this shed is never revealed... maybe we'll learn his or her identity in Babyface 3??? ...whenever de Renzy gets his probably senile ass around to making it), so they have standard heterosexual sex in private. Now, while fucking in a shed isn't exactly commonplace, it's easily the most normal sex scene in the movie.
  

Of course, since the scene features Lois Ayres, I couldn't help but be drawn to Lois' hair and makeup. And laugh when Kevin James takes off his sneakers (Velcro!)

I did notice the garden tools hanging on the wall of the shed. As they fornicated, I kept imagining Lois and Kevin being brutally murdered with that giant tree pruner.

In what has to be one of the most romantic things ever, Kevin offers to use his sock to clean the physical representation of his orgasm off Lois' back.
 

She doesn't want his twitching seed slowly dying on her back as the rest of the day progresses, so he wipes away his sticky discharge with one of his socks. And they say chivalry is dead.

After we're done at the mystery shed, we're quickly whisked to Careena Collins' bachelorette party.

  
Everyone is there, Lois Ayres (sex toy enthusiast), Taija Rae (lingerie whore), Stacey Donovan (the world's biggest Skinny Puppy fan), Kristara Barrington (cock-starved shill for fruit flavoured lube), Lynn Francis (calamari!!!!! - my epic cunt smells like a dirty dish rag), and, of course, Careena Collins (her screams will be forever muffled by Jamie Gillis' filthy boxer shorts).

They play with sex toys, they giggle uncontrollably, they try on lingerie, they watch porno tapes, they... do a shitload of girly ass shit. It's fucking awesome.   

It's not a bachelorette party without a male stripper... Enter... Jamie Gillis. Like I said earlier, greatest entrance of all-time... hands down.

 
Drunk, dishevelled and drunk (Booger from Revenge of the Nerds/Bluto from Animal House), Jamie Gillis dances erotically for the chicks for a pretty long time. Wanting more, the ladies demand to see some skin. Give them a "proper show," as one of them puts it. Warning the women that they will be overcome with lust if he gets hard, Jamie Gillis unfurls his dirty, dry piss-covered erection... and, yeah... all hell breaks loose (clench your crevices, kids).  

The woman are, just like Jamie Gillis said they would be, overcome with lust, and start demanding cock.
  

 
Luckily for the women, a bunch of guys (and their cocks) do show up (including Tom Byron and Dick Rambone... Jesus), and the orgy to end all orgies breaks out.

Is the orgy scene exhausting? You bet it is. Did it cause me to think about how ridiculous the universe is when you get right down to it? How the fuck should I know? I was drunk on cloudy pickle brine when I watched this. However, you have got to admire a film that boasts an extensive orgy scene while a wind machine blasts the whole time. Think about it. Filming an orgy sounds like a logistical nightmare. Add the fact that the whole thing is done with a wind machine set on high, and you've got a potential disaster on your hands. While I'm sure the shooting of this sequence was difficult, the end result is nothing short of brilliant. Even if you have zero interest in watching 1980s drug addicts fuck on film, you have got to admire the execution. I mean, this is art.

  
It took me eight years to get around to watching Babyface 2. It was recommended to me by a blogger named "Gore Gore Girl." And I promised her that I would watch and review it someday. Um, sorry for taking so long. In my defense, I was waiting for a company like, Vinegar Syndrome, to put out a remastered, uncut version, and, yeah... the film looks amazing. It's a masterpiece.

Just realized it's the ten year anniversary of HOSI. Wait. Ten years?!? That's some fucked up shit right there.

Pretty Peaches 3: The Quest (Alex de Renzy, 1989)

In Alex de Renzy's Pretty Peaches 3: The Quest, the sexual awakening of a naive young twit with thighs that don't know the meaning of the word quit continues unabated. Which should come as no surprise, as that's exactly what occurs in the first two movies in the Pretty Peaches trilogy. What is surprising, however, is that I won't be able to watch porn ever again. Just kidding, I will always be able to watch porn. Imagine... a world without porn. *shudders* What I mean is, from now on, all porn that isn't treated with the same reverence and respect that Vinegar Syndrome bestows on the genre will be looked upon with suspicion. I know, a company in France called "Alpha France" puts out high quality porn releases, including titles by Alex de Renzy. But as far as North America goes, I can't think of anyone who cares more about the preservation of sleaze than Vinegar Syndrome. Oh, and, by the way, this isn't some elaborate ruse to get them to send me free porn. It's just that I've never seen 1980s-era XXX cinema look so good. Hell, I bet the version the raincoat crowd saw in theatres back in the day didn't look this crisp and clean. Sure, some of you might say: Yum-Yum, you dolt, classic erotica is supposed to look like crap... that's what makes it so charming. True, but I think that only applies to roughies. I mean, I can't imagine a film like, say, Forced Entry, looking all pristine and junk, it just wouldn't feel right.

However, hardcore films from the 1980s are a different animal all-together. Boasting bright colours and garish art direction, the 1980s was a visual decade, and those visuals need to be crystal clear to be properly appreciated. This applies to '80s music videos, '80s magazines, '80s television commercials, '80s fashion ads, '80s art, and, of course, it also applies to '80s pornography.

I would argue that it needs to apply to porn more than the others because porn is the only true way to take the temperature of the era you're currently living in. Whereas most genres are filled with people whose job it is to undermine the creative process at every turn. Porn, on the other hand, has more freedom. In other words, when you watch porn from the 1980s, you're getting an unfiltered view of the decade.

Take Keisha, the totally bodacious lead in Pretty Peaches 3: The Quest, for example. In all the other genres I just mentioned, a person like Keisha would have been dismissed as either too chubby or not white enough (the plague that is white supremacy has its hooks in everything). But in porn, particularly '80s porn, Keisha is not only welcome, she's the star of the show!

Shapely and oh so soft (more cushion for the pushin'), and, not to mention, dim and utterly clueless, Keisha plays–you guessed it–Peaches, and, golly, I gotta say, does she ever do Desireé Cousteau (the original Peaches), and, to a lesser extent, Siobhan Hunter (the second Peaches), proud.

Giving a performance that will no doubt cause your mundane genitals to be imbued with rigid and moist sensations (the sensation you experience will depend on the structural composition of your genitals), Keisha stomps her way through this movie with a well-proportioned aplomb.

It would seem that Peaches and her mom (Tracey Adams) have gone down a few rungs on the social ladder since we checked in with them. While living in a trailer park is quite the change of scenery, one thing remains the same, and that is, Peaches is still an idiot. Okay, maybe that's a tad harsh. Let's just say she's not the reddest radish in the shopping cart, if you know what I mean.

After a disturbing dream, one that involved her friend (Lynn LeMay) having her pantyhose torn asunder by her boyfriend Bobby (Gene Carrera) and a pal (Marc Wallice), Peaches' mom suggests that she go see Dr. Thunderpussy (Rachel Ryan), a doctor who has appeared on the Oprah show.

(Whoa, hold up, guy... "Pantyhose torn asunder"? Tell us more.) Sure, the dream, like I said, involves the two guys I mentioned tearing Lynn LeMay's pantyhose off. But get this, every time they tear away her pantyhose, another pair miraculously reappears. I wasn't keep track (though, I should have been), but they must have removed at least ten pairs of pantyhose before eventually reaching vaginal pay-dirt.

At any rate, when Dr. Thunderpussy says to Peaches during her examination, "Time to check your girl things," I couldn't help but be reminded of Rinse Dream, as that's the kind of line you might hear in one of his movies. Wouldn't it be awesome if Alex de Renzy and Rinse Dream worked together? Actually, I know for a fact they did. So, what are you waiting for Vinegar Syndrome, restore that movie; don't make me watch some grainy, thirty year-old VHS rip.

As expected, Dr. Thunderpussy's examination of Peaches mostly involves having her "girl things" poked and prodded. When Dr. Thunderpussy is finished doing that, she has sex with a doll and tells Peaches that she needs to find spiritual enlightenment. And with that, Peaches embarks on an epic journey of self-discovery.

Actually, the quest doesn't officially get underway until Peaches watches a tearful sermon by a televangelist named Billy Bob (Jamie Gillis) on her tiny trailer park television. Flanked by his busty sidekick, Nanette (Victoria Paris), Peaches nods approvingly to the bulk of what the blubbering preacher has to say. Personally, it sounded  like a lot of  nonsense to me, but Peaches clearly liked what she heard, and heads out to meet him in person.

Unfortunately, the authorities are closing in on Billy Bob and Nanette just as Peaches arrives. Not to worry, though, despite the fact that a helicopter is swirling overhead, Billy Bob decides to take a break from destroying evidence and planning their pending getaway to give Peaches some "spiritual guidance" after all. Of course, it being late 1980s, his "spiritual guidance" largely involves feeling the shapely nitwit up.

A bizarre sex scene between Jamie Gillis and Victoria Paris gets underway after Peaches has been sufficiently felt up.

(What's Keisha doing during this so-called "bizarre sex scene?) She struggles to maintain her balance (the helicopter hovering above is making it difficult for her to stand up).

Meanwhile, back at the trailer park, Bobby and Mrs. Peaches hatching a plan to find Peaches; the sexual tension between these two is palpable.

Waking up in a field, Peaches stumbles upon the "Holy Repose Spiritual Retreat." You might think: Ooh, what luck, that's exactly what Peaches is looking for. You couldn't be more wrong, as the people there, specifically three blonde lesbians (Tianna, Priscilla Love and Vicki Blair) seem more interested in cunnilingus than spiritual guidance.

Leaving in the middle of the night (the blonde lesbians' late night cunnilingus session was keeping her up), Peaches is next seen walking along a country road in an acid wash skirt. Call me crazy, but the sight of Keisha simply walking is the sexiest part of this movie.

Hitching a ride from Fife Bardot's "Chicken Girl," Peaches is taken to a meeting of The Realization Cult. Run by Professor Otto (Jon Martin), this group, just like the others, seem more about exploring one's genitals than you know what.

Do you think Peaches' chance meeting with Jack Baker (New Wave Hookers) on the streets of San Francisco will lead her to finally achieving her goal? I don't know about that. But I do know this, at around the hour mark, someone finally fucks Keisha with their penis. Not to sound crude, but I was like, yes! Pound that pussy! Anyway, uh, the film's grand finale is quite unusual, in that it implies that Peaches becomes a... You know what, I don't want to spoil the ending for you. Let's just say it's a fitting end to a pretty kick ass trilogy. Oh, and Vinegar Syndrome, if you decide to restore the Alex de Renzy/Rinse Dream collaboration, don't forget to do the same to the rest of the Rinse Dream catalogue (including the untamed cowgirl flicks). Thanks.