The Backdoor Club (Jack Remy, 1985)

While the anus-loosening methods used by the A-Busters in White Bunbusters to get American women to open the final section of their large intestines to penis traffic might seem crude by comparison, their European brethren in Jack Remy's The Backdoor Club are just as dogged when it comes to getting their cocks thoroughly shellacked by womanly butt-juice. Of course, like in the Dark Brothers classic, most American women don't want dicks in their asses. However, instead of calling up some shady operation on the outskirts of town (one that promises to send over the finest door-to-door anal rapists forty dollars can buy), you have to physically get on a plane and fly all the way over to Munich, West Germany if you ever want your forlorn penis to see the inside of your wife/girlfriend's flawless rectum. I know, you're probably thinking to yourself: What kind of person would go through all that trouble just to fuck his wife or girlfriend in the ass? Well, for starters, these aren't "people" we're talking about here, they're men. In other words, they will do just about anything if they think it will benefit their revolting cocks. And secondly... No, that just about covers it. I've said it once and I'll say it again: Men love holes.

And one of their favourite holes is, you guessed it, the human anus. Clamoring for free access to the fleshy canals for centuries, men have always been curious about the opening next to the vagina/ball-sack.

Since European men have been clamoring for free access for much longer, European women are more willing to indulge their anal fantasies. In American, however, anal sex between consenting adults has always been frowned upon. The nation's puritan origins obviously played a large role in explaining why anal sex isn't as popular as it should be. But the fact you can't get pregnant via anal sex has something to do with it as well. You see, in order to replace the native population that they had just slaughtered, the white people who would eventually call themselves Americans came to the conclusion that vaginal intercourse, not kinky ass play, was the best way to increase their numbers.

While the European population was busy butt-fucking and fighting wars (a population killer if there ever was one), Americans were having tons of state-sanctioned, baby-producing vaginal intercourse.

You might not realize it by looking at it, but The Backdoor Club encapsulates the gaping divide that exists between Europe and America when it comes to sex. (It can't be that simple, can it?) Um, in the movie, the film's three Euro-porn starlets are fucked in the ass, the film's three American porn starlets are not.

Oh, sure, multiple attempts are made to coerce the Americans into letting the likes of Gabriel Pontello and Sascha Atzenbeck fuck them in their asses, but the Americans' cheeks remain clenched.... closed for business.

After taking us on a tour of the streets of Munich (the decision to use the video camera's blurring effect during this sequence was ill-advised), and delighting us with the film's on the cusp of being catchy theme song by "Galaxy" ("Slip in through the back door, like a thief in the night!"), the singer, by the way, sounds like Nina Hagen, if she had a head cold, The Backdoor Club gets down to business by showing an American couple, Tony (Herschel Savage), a dumpy palooka, and Sadie (Danielle Martin), a lithe blonde, entering the "Backdoor Club," a lavishly furnished home complete with expensive-looking artwork on the walls and fancy couches.

Reluctant to have her ass penetrated by a throbbing rock hard dick, Sadie manifests her unwillingness by pouting on a white couch (this couch, in case you're wondering, is the film's least fancy).

Noticing Sadie's childish antics are another couple, Horst (Gabriel Pontello) and Missy (Taija Rae), who are sitting nearby. Since I can't understand a word Horst says, I can't tell you what he asks Missy. That being said, I'm going to go ahead and assume that his query was butt-sex-related, as her response goes something like this: "Are you serious? My asshole is doing flip-flops." What does that mean, I thought to myself. Either way, the dialogue I did understand is clunky, and I can't wait for them to stop saying words out loud to one another.

Even though they say a few words here and there (ugh), the scene where Backdoor Club's butler, Hans (Sascha Atzenbeck) has sex on a table with two Backdoor employees, Gretchen (Christine Level) and Rachel (Tracey Adams), wearing satin garter-belts is up next. And it's here where we get our first taste of the film's continental divide when it comes to anal sex, as Tracey Adams' asshole goes conspicuously un-fucked during this scene. Come to think of it, I don't think Tracey Adams' character actually works there. I mean, it doesn't make sense for a woman who doesn't do anal to work at a brothel that specializes in anal sex.

When Sadie asks Horst if he's an "old hand," she realizes right away that she needs to dumb things down a shade. Gesturing toward her asshole, Sadie asks Horst, "Does it hurt"? To which Horst responds: "You mean, ass-fucking"? I'll admit, that line caused me to make a laughing sound. The combination of Gabriel Pontello's broken English combined with the fact that he's a terrible actor is probably the film's strongest non-stocking element.

Oh, what's that? I haven't mentioned the stockings yet. How strange. Well, it's a given that all the female performers wear stockings. After all, the film is European (stockings and Euro-porn go hand in hand). So, you won't be getting any complaints from me. Anyway, I have to say, the fully-fashioned stockings attached to Danielle Martin's beautiful legs are pretty much perfect. Everything from the colour (jet black), to the thickness of the nylon, to the size of the seams was absolute delight. 10/10!

It also helped that Danielle wore a red dress with red strappy heals, as I thought they went well with her black stockings.

As for Taija Rae (the reason I watched this film in the first place). She isn't really given that much do. Sure, it's 1985 (the height of her shapeliness) and her thighs look amazing as usual. But watching Herschel Savage anal shame Taija Rae as he plowed into her vagina doggie-style kinda ruined the mood.

Hey, Herschel. Do you mind not asking Taija Rae every other hump if she wants your dick in her ass, it's hampering my ability to appreciate the hypnotic ripple effect your pedestrian thrusts are causing to occur on the surface area of her sublime mid-80s buttocks. Seriously, one of my favourite things in the whole world is to watch the flesh on Taija Rae's ass ripple as a direct result of being fucked, and you're ruining it.

While the editing of the final scene is, let's just say, off-putting (four sex scenes are slapped together in a haphazard manner - video editing at its worst), you can't undermine Danielle Martin's sex appeal. Doing it with some guy who looks like Paul Bernardo on one of them fancy couches I alluded to earlier, Danielle (after some of the most awkward dialogue I've ever heard - it made me want to crawl underneath my non-fancy couch) gets fucked in the hole of her choice. And that is, of course, her vagina.

Should more American women allow their anuses to be fodder for erect penises? Who's to say? All I know is this: Don't let guys named Horst force you insert things in places that you don't want things... inserted.

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. 

Pretty Peaches 2 (Alex de Renzy, 1987)

While I would love to say that I haven't seen such a pronounced spattering of semen since my days as a male prostitute. I can't because I've never been a male prostitute. Oh, sure, I used to fuck guys for money (in bus station men's rooms to be unnecessarily specific), but that was for charity (Reach Arounds for Cancer Research to be, again, unnecessarily specific). What was the point I was trying to make? Oh yeah, whitish secretions of the moist kind. Now, I've seen pools of cum coagulating in pornography in the past, but the quality of the picture has always prevented me from admiring the goo's innate viscosity. The reason for this can usually be attributed to laziness on the part of the people in charge of releasing this so-called "pornography" to the masses. In their greedy little minds, they figure the saps who like these kinds of movies won't care if their precious pornography is simply transferred from worn out videocassettes. The result: Lackluster porn. That being said, when you think of restoring old movies to their original luster, stuff like, The Red Shoes, Metropolis or The Whoopee Boys probably come to mind. Well, the fine folks at Vinegar Syndrome are trying to change all that, as they, for some strange reason, have lovingly restored Alex de Renzy's Pretty Peaches 2, which looks freakin' amazing. And...

You see that? (What?) Look at the way I said, "for some strange reason." It would seem that even someone like me is having trouble understanding the logic of restoring Pretty Peaches 2.

Not to worry, though, I don't feel that way anymore, as I have just witnessed classic (shot on 35mm film) hardcore pornography the way it was meant to be seen.

Which brings us back to cum. When I saw how vivid that pool of recently expelled spunk looked as it lay all over Tracey Adams' mid-to-late '80s stomach in the film's opening sex scene, a single manly tear fell from my eye. And believe me, it was a pool; the cum languishing on Tracey Adams' mid-to-late '80s stomach, not my single manly tear.

Of course, it should come as no surprise to anyone with eyes or genitals that the pool of recently expelled spunk used to belong to Peter North, as the Halifax born actor is renowned for giving forth an extra helping of the creamy joy juice.

Anyway, you gotta hand it to Alex de Renzy, as only as an artist of his caliber would be able to weave Peter North's generous wad into the film's plot with such an effortless elan. Oh, I'm sure countless other films have played up the vast size of Mr. North's wad, but I've never seen one do so in a manner that seemed so plausible.

When the film opens, Peter North, who, of course, plays Bobby (he's such a Bobby), is trying to penetrate the pussy that belongs to Peaches (Siobhan Hunter), his dimwitted girlfriend. The reason he's trying to penetrate her in this fashion is because it's one of the best ways for a man to achieve an orgasm. Granted, there are countless methods at a man's disposal (trust me, I should know - I must have raised at least a million dollars for cancer research via butt-fucking), but I have found that most of men prefer vaginal intercourse. And it looks like Bobby is no different in that regard.

Unfortunately for Bobby, Peaches' mother, Eunice Goldbloom (Tracey Adams), doesn't seem to care about his impending orgasm, and tells her daughter to go to bed (their sex noises are disturbing her something fierce). Not one to disobey her mother, Peaches manages to cram Bobby's rock hard cock into his jeans and sends him packing.

Speaking of cramming things, I liked how Peaches stuffs her panties (her white panties) in her shoe; she may be dimwitted, but she knows how to... put her panties (her white panties)... in her shoe. That doesn't make a lick of sense. Either way, Peaches' panties (her white panties) are in her penny loafers (the left one, I think) as she goes upstairs.

After Bobby supposedly leaves, Eunice continues to remove her womanly accoutrements (bracelets, earrings, garter belt, stockings, etc.) with a haughty grace.

Unbeknownst to her, but Bobby is watching her remove her womanly accoutrements. That's right, he never left, and is hiding behind the curtains. Hearing a slight rattling sound coming from the window, a now naked Eunice grabs a knife and investigates.

After Eunice scolds Bobby for being a peeping tom, she forces him to remove his clothes (it's what chicks named Eunice do). At around this time, Eunice notices that Bobby has "lovers nuts." Engorged with enough fluid to fill at least five reasonably priced kiddy pools, Eunice decides to help Bobby some extract some of this "fluid" by employing her mouth and vagina as temporary receptacles for his throbbing, overstuffed man-junk.

Who wants to name the multitude of jizz rivers that are currently snaking their way along the surface of Tracey Adams' abdomen? Anybody? Clean up on Tracey Adams' tummy!

Frustrated that her mother refuses to tell anything about sex, Peaches decides to ask Stanley (Herschel Savage), her former step dad, for advice. Showing up at his office in a red top paired with a yellow skirt, Peaches begs her former step dad to teach her about sex. For a second there it looked like Stanley was contemplating giving his former step daughter a private lesson, but less pervy heads prevail. Instead, Stanley tells Peaches to "ask around" and most importantly, "don't be a tease... no-one likes a tease."

"Golly, daddy... that's some excellent advice," she cheerfully replies. The manner in which Siobhan Hunter says the word "daddy" is so unsavoury, that it will cause you to run down to the nearest police station to register yourself as a sex offender.

Since the film hasn't had a sex scene in at least two minutes, we're given a quick one when Stanley calls over his secretary, Miss Wilson (Tammy White), to "discuss" something important. What transpires is your standard office sex scene. What isn't standard, however, is Tammy White's body. Dang! This Tammy chick is shapely as all get out. Oh, and since she isn't some cave-dwelling neanderthal, Tammy's delicious gams are sheathed in black stockings. Mmmm, slice 'em thick, Ma.

Taking what Stanley said about "asking around" seriously, Peaches comes to the conclusion that the sanest course of action for her to take is to visit Uncle Howard (Ron Jeremy) up in San Francisco; which, according to Peaches, is the best place to learn about sex.

Those familiar with the handkerchief code will probably notice that Peaches has a dark blue hanky stuffed in the back pocket of her jean shorts. Does this mean Peaches will have anal sex later on in this movie? Who knows? I do know this, the guy in the trucker cap (Buck Adams) who picks up a hitchhiking Peaches definitely has anal sex with Juliet (Janette Littledove), a busty prostitute, during their stay at a motel.

What's amusing about this scene is that Miss Littledove kept calling Buck a piece of shit as he plowed into her ass. And I couldn't help but laugh when she mock asks him whether or not he took humping lessons at Disneyland.

Worried about her daughter, Eunice teams up Stanley, and they both hit the road in search of Peaches. And, of course, they end up booking a room at the same motel Peaches and the trucker cap guy stayed at. Except, instead of having anal sex with Janette Littledove, Eunice blows F.M. Bradley; much to the chagrin of Stanley, who had hoped their little road trip would lead to some kind of reconciliation between himself and his ex-wife.

Meanwhile, in San Francisco, Peaches is up to her eyebrows in perversion. Let's break it down, shall we? Incest, gaudy furniture, Jamie Gillis dressed as a granny, wispy pubes, blue panties, Melissa Melendez (Kat Dennings meets Asia Argento) as a Chinese chick and an impromptu bunny dip tutorial. It should come as no surprise that Peaches is a tad overwhelmed by what she sees at Uncle Howard's. That being said, she seems to be learning a lot.

Other than not giving us any clear shots of Tammy White in her lingerie, as far as being a playful piece of plot-driven pornography, I'd say Pretty Peaches 2 is pretty much perfect. And thanks to the fine folks at Vinegar Syndrome, it looks perfect. I'm almost tempted to throw away all my porno DVDs, as this release makes them all look like utter garbage. Almost (let's not do anything rash).