Sunday, April 18, 2021

Nightdreams 3 (Rinse Dream, 1991)

"Just mention On the Waterfront and she gets... randy pants." So much agreeable agreement is nestling softly between the uppermost point of my... prize winning cerebral playtex. Oh, yes, that's right, Nightdreams 3 is here. And while it still could use some more of that sweet, sweet jibber-jabber that I crave so non-lustfully, at least words are uttered. Sure, some of the words uttered are edited in a manner that will make you wish for the quiet that only a quick death by firing squad can provide. But the characters say things and sometimes, get this, they do things. Which I think is a vast improvement over Nightdreams 2. As I always used to say, saying and doing things is the cornerstone of quality cinema. Too bad there are no armpit vaginas or elongated clits in this chapter. You know, if I had a time machine... (You would go back to 1991 and remind Rinse Dream to hire Otis Elwell in order for him make vaginas appear on places where vaginas don't usually go?)  Actually, I was thinking about traveling back to 1951. Once there, I would sneak onto the set of Singin' in the Rain and strangle Gene Kelly to death with an orange extension chord. I could probably do both. Hmm. Which reminds me, is the climate inside Tianna's asshole temperate? (You should ask Lauren Brice's tongue, as it gets all up in that ass.) Your aura reeks of the worst kind of cockeyed smugness. I'm the type of person who would not be afraid to ask such questions. I've seen so many assholes pitter-patter over past ten pseudo menstrual cycles. In other words, I watch and observe with the complete opposite of apathy.       

You, me, and everyone with eyeballs, should stick our shaved/waxed/zapped hindquarters in the air with the most reckless form of abandon possible, and thank the lucky lord of taint filth that Tianna and Lauren Brice are in this slab of unequivocal art masquerading as an early 1990s shot on video fuck flick. They're wordy healthcare providers in heels.

Call me a saline-based electrolyte solution, but aren't high heel shoes meant to be walked in? (What on earth are you babbling about?) Everyone who isn't repugnant, is wearing high heel shoes. But they don't walk anywhere. ("You're a fascinating woman.") I guess Dale Bozzio from Missing Persons was right about one thing, nobody walks in Nightdreams 3. You've got a factoid forming on your breath: Dale Bozzio performed with Frank Zappa in the late 1970s. Rinse Dream worked with Frank Zappa on the album Thing-Fish (they collaborated on an unfinished musical). Moon Unit Zappa has a cameo in the Spirit of '76. I don't think Sonny Bono knew Rinse Dream, but Cher is Armenian.

His cock looks like a vein-adorned U-boat periscope. *ring ring* This Admiral Dönitz' secretary callin', your circumcision has been canceled due to plague-related circumstances beyond the Admiral's control. We ask that you please bear with us. Sucking his cock would be akin to sucking on a rusty drain pipe or a candy cane covered in burnt hair. Speaking of burnt hair, his torso looks like a Brillo pad that has been set alight by a flamethrower. I grew up in an era when flamethrowers were the solution to all of life's problems. But even a flamethrower can't solve this Spironolactone-laced pickle of a I need to pee predicament.

Unlike your Grandma's consommé, sex is something that is never consummated behind closed doors in the Rinse Dream universe. Uh-uh. There's always someone watching. In this video sequel movie thing, Dr. Simone Sledge (Lauren Brice) and Dr. Sirk (Tianna) are the doctors doing the observing. Well, actually, Dr. Sledge is doing more than watching and observing. I know, that's what she says she's doing at the start of the video sequel movie thingamajig. But she's got a cause that she seems pretty passionate about...

Get this, it turns out that Dr. Sledge is running a clinic for wayward transgenders. Providing trans people with access to hormone replacement therapy and gender affirming surgeries, Dr. Sledge is a pioneer when it comes to trans healthcare. What in the criminy?!? I do remember seeing a copy of Boys Don't Cry at a downtown Blockbuster Video that was erroneously placed in the lesbian section. (You rented movies at Blockbuster?) Nah, I was just killing time before the peep show booths opened. Anyway, helping people transition is seen by her colleagues as uncontaminated quackery. By the way, that annoyingly humour challenged transistor-gender individual you keep seeing on your filter bubble didn't become annoyingly humour challenged after they transitioned (with the help of that poorly funded lab on the outskirts of Tiraspol, Transnistra), they were always annoyingly humour challenged. So, don't crumble cookie crumbs around me when I'm tryin' to realign my Chakras.

During the Elizabethan era, Tilda Swinton has a Elizabethan era dick, a dirty, pockmarked Elizabethan era dick. But sometime during the Ottoman Empire, Tilda Swinton wakes up with a pussy that may or may not have a yeast infection, a dusty, windswept yeast infection.

A trans man with heavy breasts who longs to be a longshoreman, is paired a bimbo-adjacent cis spark-plug with crimped hair. They have yawn-inducing sex on a bed (a bed that has never once experienced a normal human nap) set to a Jan Hammer-esque slow jam. After this tawaudrey tautou display, Dr. Sirk tries to rebuke Dr. Sledge's approach to helping her patients.  

This brings us to one of the best exchanges in the entire Nightdreams trilogy. Interrupted while reading The Nightmare of Reason: A Life of Franz Kafka, Dr. Sirk gets in Dr. Sledge's face. At one point calling the bosomy doc a cupcake filled with strychnine and a bad rash. It's an amazing exchange. The kind of exchange I found several lacking in Nightdreams 2. To make things even better, both Lauren Brice and Tianna's legs are sheathed in white stockings!

As if contending with belligerent colleagues wasn't enough, Dr. Sledge has to deal with the partners of her trans clients, who seem unsure that "a battery of hormonal treatments" is was what's best for their significant others. The only thing that makes my ash-coloured atrocity quiver ever-so slightly is the sight of Lauren Brice's hi-falutin backdoor density ripple as a direct and/or indirect result of a slamming jimmy that belongs to an unsupportive parent of a trans person. All this talk of slamming jimmies has made me "ravenous for boy jerky." But first I got some literature in the trunk of my car I'd like to show you.  

A lot of recycled ideas are employed... teetering into the realm of self-parody at times, Nightdreams 3 is a slight improvement following Nightdreams 2. By adding more dialogue and fleshing out the characters a bit, Rinse Dream redeems himself... a tad. Plus, having Sharon Kane play a patient added some class to the proceedings. She has tiny ears, frail ankles and delicate wrists. However, her clit is normal sized and her armpits are devoid of cavities... vaginal or otherwise... so, boooo! 


  1. Nice to see some new reviews -- welcome back! I hope all is well with you!

  2. I found Missing Persons' "Color In Your Life" cassette in a cut-out bin at Camelot Music in the early 1990s.
    (It has just been remastered and reissued with bonus tracks and remixes on Rubellan Remasters Records.)
    Unfortunately, nothing on it got onto a Chicago POWER indoor soccer game day cassette, despite the still-evident Frank Zappa influences.