The Taming of Rebecca (Phil Prince, 1982)

Nowadays, your average serial killer has to worry about the authorities poking around their hard drives looking for "unseemly" material after they're eventual arrested. But back in the 1980s, the authorities, after they kicked down the serial killer's door, would head straight for suspect's living room and start examining the contents of their VCR. And what do you think they found when they pressed play? That's right, the first thing they typically saw was a deranged George Payne, a.k.a. "The Dean of Discipline," screaming a blistering barrage of insults at a cowering Velvet Summers; who, of course, has a safety pin in their nipple. Hitting the eject button almost immediately, the authorities had just watched a scene from the infamous The Taming of Rebecca, an Avon Production directed by the equally infamous Phil Prince. While the scenario I just described might sound a tad far-fetched, I have read that this film was in fact found in the video cassette recorders of at least two serial killers when they were arrested. Knowing this going in gave the act of watching the film an added layer of danger. Sure, there are literally millions of people out there who watched this film who didn't turn out to be serial killers. But the fact that two did... well, you know, like I said, it gave the film... (An added layer of danger?) Yeah, that. But it gave it a certain cachet, too.

It also didn't hurt that the film itself features dirty anuses, rape caves, pissing on flaccid cocks, pissing on flaccid floors, the music of The Stray Cats, a man with a full head of hair, pussy fisting, father-daughter toilet incest, lightning bolt necklaces, knee socks, hot New York accents, spanking and whipping. I'm sorry, did I just include a man with a full head of hair as one of this film's selling points? Holy crap, I did. Now, granted, there are quite a few wonky selling points in that particular group, but a man with a full head of hair? What was I thinking?

Wait a minute, I just remembered why I included a man with a full head of hair as one of my selling points for this wonderfully fucked up movie. It's because George Payne's hair in The Taming of Rebecca is, with a doubt, the fullest head of a hair I've seen in a motion picture in decades.

I know, watching me go on and on about the hair sitting atop the head of a sadistic lunatic must seem strange, especially when you consider the fact the movie I'm talking about not only boasts a skinny headband-wearing Sharon Mitchell prancing around town in a short tartan skirt, but has a scene where the gorgeous Cheri Champagne sits on a bed with her legs crossed (her creamy thighs mashing against one another with a scintillating smoosh). That being said, don't judge me until you have seen his hair in action. And by "action," I mean, acts of cruelty and degradation.

To see George Payne cause others pain and suffering will bring a tear your eye. Oh, and not because he's forcing a safety pin through your nipple, but because he looks so good while doing so.

Just for the record, he doesn't actually force a safety pin through anyone's nipple in this movie. No, he forces someone else to do it for him. He might be a sick twist, but he ain't no monster.

Believe or not, George Payne's character isn't the only sick twist in this film. After jumping in her daddy's car, Rebecca (Sharon Mitchell) calls Miss Zorda (Stella Stevens), the, I'm gonna say, principal of a local school for sexually abused boys and girls, on a payphone and asks her if she can take refuge there.

When Rebecca arrives... Oh, and before she arrives, we're treated to the theme from Halloween. On top of that, I could have sworn I heard the music of either Cluster or Tangerine Dream as well.  Anyway, when she arrives... Oh, and before she arrives, we're treated to the sight of Sharon Mitchell walking down the street in her school uniform (a tartan skirt and white knee socks!). Yum.

Now, where was I? Ah, yes, when Rebecca arrives at the school, she tells Miss Zorda all about her troubled home life. What the fuck! Would you look how spacious that bathroom is. Mine's the size of a broom closet, yet this sick twist is living it up in a home with a giant bathroom. I mean, look at this guy, he's playing with his genitals on the toilet with his legs extended to their full capacity. In my bathroom, I can't even turn around without knocking over something and this guy's sitting on the toilet like he's Larry Craig. It's not fair.

Tired of playing with himself, Rebecca's daddy (David Christopher) calls for his daughter and tells her that he needs her to make her old man feel good. Hmm, I wonder what he means by that. Standing in the doorway in a pink nightie with white doily-like flourishes around the edges, Rebecca watches in horror as her daddy swings his floppy cock around like a deflated, floppy cock-shaped bag of day-old mucus .

In order to remedy the slack nature of his floppy cock, Rebecca's daddy instructs Rebecca to suck on it for an extended period of time.

After his floppy cock is not even close to being floppy anymore, Rebecca's daddy tells Rebecca to sit on it. Now, you're probably thinking to yourself: How is she supposed to sit on it? It doesn't look comfortable at all. Do you see that patch of hair between Rebecca's legs? Well, inside there is an opening. And believe me, when Rebecca's daddy's super-stiff cock gingerly slides into this opening, the comfort level he's about to experience is going to be insane.

In an unexpected twist, Rebecca's daddy then orders Rebecca to sit on his face. It's unexpected because cunnilingus isn't usually on the menu in these types of situations.

Told to get on all fours, Rebecca's daddy gives Rebecca's ass a good spanking. Oh, and get this, after each smack, Rebecca's daddy demands that she thank him for spanking her.

Finishing things up in the bathtub with some rough doggie-style action, Rebecca's daddy ejaculates a smidgeon of seminal fluid in the general direction of his daughter's face. The end. Oh, wait. It looks like Rebecca's daddy wants Rebecca do something else for him. Leaning back against the wall at the base of the tub, Rebecca's daddy tells Rebecca to, and I quote, "Pee all over my cock, daddy likes that."

A shocked Miss Zorda looks at Rebecca with an air of disgust and disbelief after she finishes giving her a sampling of what life is like at home.

Bringing Rebecca to meet the other "students," who are listening to The Stray Cats in the school's rec room (complete with a pool table and a David Bowie poster), Miss Zorda introduces her to Saundra (Velvet Summers), John (Ron Hudd), Barbara (Cheri Champagne), Bob (Jamie St. James), Cindy (Ambrosia Fox) and Paul (Tony Mansfield).

As the final introductions are being made, guess who walks in the room? Why, it's The Dean of Discipline himself, Dean Minindao (George "Shut the fuck up!!!!" Payne). Oh, man, you thought Rebecca's daddy was a sadistic piece of shit. Honey, you ain't seen nothing yet.

It's when Dean Minindao's secretary, Linda (Niko), is giving him "dictation" in his office that I really started to take notice of George Payne's beautiful mane of thick lustrous hair. What's his secret? Castor oil? Monkey cum? At any rate, the sex scene between Dean Minindao and Linda is actually quite tame as far as sex scenes go. No one yells dehumanizing obscenities at the top of their lungs, no one expels pee on anyone, and no one is related to one another. In other words, yawn. Just kidding, it was kinda refreshing to see two people simply fuck for a change.

"That Minindao... he's such a jerk-off. And Zorda... did you see her in the gym the other day? My god, that woman didn't have any underwear on. She's a real sleaze. She's going to get hers one of these days." And with that line, we're introduced to the gorgeousness that is Cheri Champagne's Barbara. I know, we were introduced to her during the rec room meet and greet, but this is the scene where Cheri Champagne does some of her best work. I mean, the way she says, "jerk-off," with her thick New York accent will cause your toes to curl.

Sitting on the bed in a yellow dress with her legs crossed, Barbara, and her friend, Cindy, start talking, or, I should say, tawking, about "The Cave." When Rebecca hears about "The Cave," a subterranean netherworld where Dean Minindao supposedly carries out more serious acts of punishment, she doesn't believe that it actually exists.

In order to become more enlightened, cave-wise, Rebecca calls in the guys. After briefly discussing The Cave, one of the guys... the one in the aviator shades... wait, two of the guys are wearing aviator shades... The skinny guy in the aviator shades suggests that they have an orgy. Without even giving the suggestion much thought, the gang are taking their clothes off to what sounds like Suicide.

Hopping to her feet, Barbara pulls her yellow dress off with quick hiking motion utilizing the cross-armed technique. As the dress goes swooshing past her mid-section, you'll notice that Barbara isn't wearing any panties. You know what that means, right? Yep, Barbara is a hypocrite. If you remember, Barbara calls Miss Zorda a sleaze for not wearing panties. And, as Barbara's cross-armed hiking motion just proved, she doesn't either.

Just as the skinny guy in the aviator shades is about to get up to his wrist in Barbara's vagina, Dean Minindao bursts into the room. Busted.

The first feel the brunt of Dean Minindao's wrath is Rebecca, who is whipped ("You like that? No? Good!!!") and raped in his office. But not before the line, "Don't ever stand behind me... ever!!!" is uttered; my personal favourite of his many outbursts. After that, it's John (the muscular guy in the aviator shades) and Saundra's turn, where Dean Minindao forces John to shove a safety pin through Saundra's nipple.

When we finally do enter The Cave, most people will either be too traumatized or too exhausted to carry on (even though the film is barely an hour long). However, the too outre for words performance given by George Payne is the real reason the stick with this movie. Seriously, the improvised bile that comes out of his mouth as he torments his victims is like listening to vile poetry being read by a coked up mental patient. "How so??? How so??? Don't fuck with me!!!" Ah, the unpleasantness of it all.

Driller (Joyce James, 1984)

While it's nowhere near as titillating as the tragically non-existent "Owner of a Lonely Heart" porn parody, "Boner in a Lonely Tart" (dig the scene where an out of work sex slave is forced to perform dollar store quality cunnilingus on a painfully shy librarian while an omnipotent fiend in an orange turtleneck sweater watches from afar), the infamous Driller, a loose assemblage of ideas slapped together in a veiled attempt to lampoon a popular music video, is here to prove that not all porn parodies are lame (get this, word on the street is the female performers in the That '70s Show porn parody are clean shaven and have tramp stamps). Featuring semi-elaborate dance numbers, disgraced ex-U.S. Presidents, zombie brides, unorganized orgies, jizz-tinted glasses, iridescent dildos and lesbian ghouls, writer-director Joyce James (Desperately Sleazy Susan) and writer-producer Timothy Green Beckley have taken on one humdinger task, and that is, recreate the makeup effects, the choreography, the manic energy, and, of course, the music that made the John Landis-directed video a classic. Just think, if only they had waited a year or two, they could have done a porn parody of the unfussy music video for The Replacements' "Bastards of Young" instead. Unfortunately, a black and white video consisting mostly of an unbroken shot of a thumping stereo speaker is not the music video they're parodying. No, the music video they're parodying is not only of one of the most iconic music videos ever made, it's also one of the most expensive.
 

 
The question on everyone's mind is: How does one go about making a successful spoof based on a music video that sports racially evolving werewolves and dancing zombies, while at the same time, providing the raincoat crowd (the film's initial target audience) with the graphic insertion shots they so wantonly crave? Well, for starters, you'll need Taija Rae (She's So Fine!) to lie on a bed with her shapely gams in the air. And judging by the sight of her wonderfully pale stems glistening in the fake moonlight, they've got that angle pretty much covered.
 

Okay, what you need to do next is have an immodest werewolf in a red leather jacket stand over her playing with his gigantic, drill-inspired cock. And, whaddya know, they've got that angle covered as well. It looks like the producers of this ambitious project have done at least two things right. Let's delve deeper into the sleazy world of Driller, shall we?
 

The film opens with the sound of a crowd cheering enthusiastically for a one-gloved pop singer named "Driller" (Mr. J). Standing on stage while striking a new wave-friendly pose, Driller simply stands there as one woman in the audience removes her top, while others wave sparklers. All of a sudden, a beat starts up, and Driller starts to sway his hips. My first thought was: Oh-oh, he's about to sing. I won't lie, I felt a profound sense of trepidation in regard to the film's music. I mean, we're talking about a porn parody musical shot in Queens, New York on a shoestring budget, not West Side Story. Luckily, we're spared from hearing Driller's music for the time being, as the scene fades out just as he was about to get funky.
 

After we listen to a slew of comments, some positive, some negative, from various audience members as they mill about outside the theatre, we're introduced to Louise (Taija Rae) and Dan (Dick Howard), a square couple out on a date. Determined to stick his erect penis into her hopefully moist vagina, Dan stops acting jealous over Loiuse's love for Driller, and starts whining incessantly. His strategy is to moan and bellyache his way inside her lofty box, and, low and behold, it worked.
  

"Is your lube tube on the fritz?" asks Dan, the moment he starts pawing at, what he perceives to be, Louise's unresponsive crotch on her parents' reddish couch.
  

Normally, a line like that would get you tossed on your ass, but Dan's resolve is so fervent, that she buckles under the sheer weight of his pestering.
  

Dressed in white stockings, white-rimmed glasses and wearing a cheeky white bow in her hair, Louise stops steeping her tea bag, lays back on the couch and reluctantly allows Dan's penis to penetrate the pristine confines of her pussy-based passageway. What's fascinating about this scene. Okay, maybe "fascinating" is pushing it. What's mildly interesting (yeah, that's a little better) about this scene is that Louise wants nothing to do with the deformity sort of dangling between his legs (and the fact that Dan makes an allusion to Rockwell's paranoid classic, "Somebody's Watching Me").
  

You see, in most movies like this, this female participant is usually overly eager rent out their spacious holes to almost anyone. Sure, a lot of them pretend to be uncertain at first, but they all seem to gradually give in to the power of cock.
  

Well, not Louise, her annoyance is prominent from start ("Hurry up, Dan!") to finish ("You're hitting my bladder!").  Hell, she even employs a double-handed jizz block when he attempts unload his pathetic wad in her face (just for the record, I would never let a man cum in my face - the key word their being "face").
  

After Dan leaves, Louise goes to bed (the walls of her room are covered with Driller posters). Falling asleep with the aide of a cheesy horror movie, Louise is shocked to find her bedroom full of dancing zombies (they entered by crashing through her wall). Luckily for the  zombies, Louise's bedroom is large enough to accommodate their specific needs (dancing zombies require a ton of space).
  

Wearing tattered clothing, the dancing zombies dance in unison while they await the arrival of their master. Who could their master be? Why it's Driller! Looking a tad more demonic than he did at the concert, and now sporting a red leather jacket, Driller performs a song called "Driller," which is kinda catchy. In other words, it wasn't as awful as I thought it would be. Accompanied by his backup singers (their red pantyhose accentuated by dresses that looked like ripped up garbage bags), Driller moonwalks up a storm as Louise's watches from the relative safety of her bed.

We soon find out why Driller is called "Driller" the moment he pulls out this giant drill-like penis (it whirls when provoked). On top of having a sentient life form masquerading as a petrified johnson, Driller is also a werewolf. After he's done transforming (the werewolf makeup, like the music, wasn't as awful as I thought it would be), wolfman Driller makes himself at home between Louise's milky thighs. Bragging as he thrusts that "John Holmes ain't got nothing on me," Driller eventually spews this tar-like substance all over her stomach.

  

Technically, the movie should be over at this point–after all, the music video they're parodying is only fifteen minutes long. But it's not over, not by a long shot. A nightie-wearing Louise somehow finds herself in an old, spooky-looking castle.

How do we know she's in a castle? The producers of Driller put a picture of a castle on the screen (one complete with lightning animation and the sound of howling wolves). It's a called an "establishing shot" (earlier in the film, a picture of a suburban house is used to represent the home where Louise lives), and they help create a broader sense of the world. At this point, the film starts to resemble films like, Nightdreams, Visions, and The Devil in Miss Jones 3, in that, they boast confused protagonists who wander through a bizarre netherworld replete with unconventional debasement and dim lighting.

  

Forced to watch two leather-clad dandies defile a virgin (Cassandra Leigh) on a slab, a pair of gold-painted "ladies" probe one another with a glow-in-the-dark dildo, and, my personal favourite, a thick-thighed beauty named Esméralda rubs her clit in black fishnet stockings (a Quasimodo-esque figure shouts words of encouragement at her while she rubs it), Louise patiently waits until they've all finished before moving on to the next sexual event.
  

Discerning perverts the world over worship at the alter that is Taija Rae (her pre-1987 juicy mounds of soft, authentic flesh never fail to drive heterosexual men wild with desire), and in Driller her juicy mounds are, unfortunately, relegated to the backseat of this unsavoury car after she's violated by the pop star/werewolf.
  

Reduced to being a spectator, Taija, after she's groped by a couple of female ghouls, spends the majority of the movie crouched in a corner watching an orgy (an orgy participant who looked like Richard Nixon says, "they don't call me Tricky Dick for nothing," before penetrating his partner) and smoke-laden dance routines (in order to maintain its connection to Thriller, a scantily clad Driller shows up periodically to dance in a series of Estuardo Miguel choreographed dance numbers).
  

After the "skeleton groom" (Ron Retta) has finished making a mess all over the wonderfully ample backside of the "skeleton bride" (Renee Summers), it's finally Louise's turn to get a right and proper dicking. And faster than you can say, "it's zombie night, it'll be all right," Taija Rae finds her body being prodded at from all sides. As far as foursomes go, it's pretty ho-hum (I can't believe I just called a foursome "ho-hum"). But I did like the fact that it appeared as though Taija did not want to kiss the guy in the studded collar. Despite his best efforts, Taija would not lock mouths with this guy, and I say, good for her.
  

Quirky fun-fact: An excerpt of "Owner of a Lonely Heart" is featured on Michael Jackson's "DS" from his 1995 album, HIStory.
  

Corruption (Roger Watkins, 1984)

Blue stockings, red stockings, black stockings. Is there any significance to the order in which the stocking-clad women who greet a confused businessman in the ultra-creepy, ultra-weird Corruption? Why do blue stockings come before red stockings? And why do black stockings come last? Is the colour blue meant to represent something? Maybe the colour was used to give the scene a sort of a cool, detached flavour. In other words, you can looking at my legs encased in blue hold-up stockings, but don't you dare touch them. Yeah, that makes sense, as the next pair of nylon-clad legs are sheathed in red stockings. And we all know that red represents fire, the complete opposite of cool. What about black? Good question. What does black mean? Hey, sorry to interrupt this nylon-based chromatic dissertation you having with yourself, but isn't this kind of movie you're supposed to masturbate to? First of all, I wouldn't call what I was doing a "dissertation," they're way longer than a few sentences strung together; incoherent blather would be a more apt description. And secondly, "masturbate to"? Don't be vulgar. This film was made by Roger Watkins (The Last House on Dead End Street), one of the few visionaries working in the consecrated cesspool that is x-rated cinema. You don't masturbate to his films, you clasp your hands by your chin and nod ever-so slightly as you soak in the artistry. Nevertheless, getting back to my original point, there is definitely a hidden meaning behind the colours of the stockings. I mean, there has to be. And get this, the colour of the lingerie matches the walls as well. Don't tell me, is this one of those flicks where a character goes from room to room, having sex with scantily clad women along the way? It is, isn't it?
 

 

One of the pleasures of watching an x-rated film that was clearly made by an artist, and make no mistake, Roger Watkins is an artist, is picking out all the subtle details that the raincoat crowd would surely miss. Oh, that reminds me. One of the primary reasons I responded so positively to Corruption, besides the fact that the film features the pleasing shape that is Tish Ambrose's ass, was the fact that the so-called "raincoat crowd" (a.k.a. dedicated patrons of erotic movie houses) probably despised this film. And, no. It's not because they dislike things are awesome. Mainly because a pussy isn't penetrated by a penis until we're well into the production. Oh, sure, fingers and tongues come close on several occasions to hitting vaginal pay dirt in the early going. But the raincoat crowd is going to need to see a lot more than a slight labia dusting to achieve the liquid-based satisfaction they so wantonly crave.
 

 

And they're definitely not going to get it by watching the opening scene, as Mr. Williams (Jamie Gillis) tries to reassure a seated Mr. Franklin (Michael Gaunt, a.k.a. Larry the Lineman from A Woman's Torment) that he "believes in business." From the looks of it, Mr. Williams was given something by Mr. Franklin and his associates, and they seem to expect something in return. What it is they want from Mr. Williams exactly isn't quite clear. But I'm guessing it involves power. And what represented power during the 1980s? That's right, a nondescript briefcase. It doesn't matter what's in it, just as along as you're holding one.   
 

 

You know how I said that Mr. Franklin has "associates"? Well, it would seem that Mr. Williams has some as well. And one of these "associates" is entering a mysterious building while electronic music throbs on the soundtrack. The music heard during the build up to this scene sounds like it's from The Thing, but I'm not 100% sure about that. Anyway, this "associate," who is probably more of an errand boy that an associate, is actually a man called Alan (George Payne), and he's about to go on a strange erotic trip.
 

 

In order to go on this "strange erotic trip," he must first get past the "person behind the desk," a.k.a. "woman at desk." Played by Samantha Fox ("Lisa" from Her Name Was Lisa), the woman behind the desk confuses Alan with cryptic language. You'll notice that Samantha Fox is reading Cosima Wagner's Diaries 1878-1883. Which makes perfect sense since Roger Watkins'  porn nom de plume is Richard Mahler, an amalgamation of the names of classical composers Richard Wagner and Gustav Mahler. Well, enough about that, Alan is about to enter the first room. Why is he going in there? The woman behind the desk told him that if he wants what he's looking for, he's going to have to enter that room to get it. Okay, that sounds simple enough. Oh, you're so naive. I'm talking about Alan, not you, by the way.
 

 

Told immediately to sit down, Alan is greeted by the "Woman in Blue" (Tanya Lawson). And by "greeted." I mean she proudly flaunts her hairy pussy (which is beautifully framed by a pair of blue stockings) with much fanfare. Itching to show off her vagina in a more flattering light, the "Woman in Blue" sits down on a blue chair and spreads her legs (a surefire way to get your genitals more word of mouth). Instructing him to "do nothing," the "Woman in Blue" pulls down the breast-covering mechanism attached to her blue corset and begins playing with her nipples. When she's done doing that, she beckons him to smell her pussy; that's right, smell. When she feels that he has experienced everything her cunt has to offer odor-wise, the "Woman in Blue" pushes him away, and proceeds to finger herself for an extended period of time.
 

 

If you're confused by what just happened, you're not alone, as Alan seems more perplexed than ever. After the extended period of time I alluded to earlier runs out, the "Woman in Blue" informs Alan that what he's looking for is beyond that door. You mean? Yep, another room, and another colour-coordinated lingerie-enthusiast to contend with. This time it's a woman in red lingerie, oh, let's call her the "Woman in Red" (Marilyn Gee), who greets Alan. However, unlike the "Woman in Blue," the "Woman in Red" wants Alan to do more than smell her pussy. You guessed it, she wants him to eat it.
 

 

Sliding off her red panties in a gingerly fashion (she obviously doesn't want to disrupt the structural integrity of her equally red stockings), Alan seems to relish this opportunity to get his face smeared with vaginal wetness. His relish is rewarded when she puts his cock (the male equivalent of a pussy) in her mouth. Of course, she doesn't just leave it in there, she removes it every so often, like she was sucking on a Popsicle. As she is, as the kids like to say, "blowing him," Roger Watkins gets in touch with his inner Jess Franco by giving us a gratuitous leg pan. Just as he's about to deposit his load skyward, or downward, depending on the viscosity of his wad, the "Woman in Red" removes his cock, denying him the opportunity to spew his seed. What are you trying to say? Let me put this way, there will be no clean up necessary in the red room on this day.    
 

 

Even though the women who have greeted Alan so far have been alluring in terms of sex appeal, nothing could have prepared me for the shapely perfection that is Tish Ambrose's pale ass. If that wasn't enough, the scene where Alan meets the "Woman in Black" (Tish Ambrose) starts off with a top-notch synth flourish. Up there with the likes of Rinse Dream and Gregory Dark, Alan's "confrontation" with the "Woman in Black" is as dark and twisted as porn can get it. Oh, don't get me wrong, the sex itself is pretty straightforward. It's that the atmosphere is so off-kilter. Lounging in black stockings, the "Woman in Black" asks if Alan is ready to renounce love. See what I mean? There's no love in pornography.
 

 

In the 1980s, power was more important than love, so Alan has no trouble whatsoever renouncing it. In return for renouncing love, Alan is allowed to penetrate the "Woman in Black" with his long suffering penis. Before he does that, however, he removes her black panties, in a gingerly fashion, of course, and throws his face in the general direction of her clitoris. If you listen carefully, you can hear a mass sigh of relief fall over the audience when Alan's penis finally enters her vagina. In my mind, waiting eighteen minutes doesn't seem that long a time to wait for a penis to be inserted into a vagina. But to the raincoat crowd, it must have seemed like an eternity.  
 

 

As Alan plows into the "Woman in Black" doggy style (the blackness of her stocking's garters tear across her ashen thighs like crumpled bolts of polyester lightning with every thrust), it occurs to me that I need more Tish Ambrose in my cinematic life. Everything from her wide, expressive eyes to the birthmark on her left breast (they're nature's tattoos) was appealing. Nearing the end of his thrusting capacity, the "Women in Black" tells Alan, "Don't cum inside me!" After dispensing his future stain across her ample backside, she curtly instructs him to leave. Ending up back where he started, Alan notices a briefcase sitting on Samantha Fox's desk.   
 

 

Meanwhile, Mr. Williams, the guy who sent Alan on that crazy errand in this first place, is at home with his wife Doreen (Tiffany Clark). Since this film is technically a pornographic film, Jamie Gillis and Tiffany Clark have sex, but not before exchanging some esoteric dialogue. In order to placate said esoteric dialogue, a scene where Mr. Williams watches (through a crack in the door) his wife's younger sister, Felicia (Kelly Nichols), masturbate on her bed in purple panties and white hold-up stockings. While the scene with Felicia feels superfluous, it actually sets up her character and the voyeurism of the next few scenes rather nicely.
 

 

When Mr. Williams finds out what Alan has done (the contents of the briefcase are his), he heads down to a local bar to ask his half-brother, Larry (Bobby Astyr), for help. In keeping with the film's odd tone, the bar is a sort of a cross between the Bang Bang Bar in Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me and the joint from Café Flesh. Dancing on a stage is, to quote Larry, "a half-wasted broad shaking her ass," named...actually, she doesn't have a name. Well, despite that, she's played by Nicole Bernard, and she continues to dance as Mr. Williams and Larry discuss the whereabouts of Alan.  

 

Similar to the scenes where Alan goes from room to room, Larry takes Mr. Williams to a subterranean hallway that contains three red doors. Now, what lies behind these is not anyone's guess, as each door is equipped a reverse peephole. Telling Mr. Williams that he must watch what takes place behind each door before they can continue, the frustrated businessman is subjected to bathroom lesbianism (a wonderfully bruised Alexis X and Sabrina Vale); dungeon-based sadomasochism, a dominatrix in fishnet stockings (Melissa Strong) demands that a man in a leather mask lick her boots; and, believe or not, necrophilia. While the lesbianism behind door number one is a pleasant diversion, what Mr. Williams sees through the other two doors will cause him quite a bit of distress.
 

 

A true work of subversive art, Corruption, with its total and utter disregard for the needs and wants of your pathetic genitals, is a rare of example of what porn can become if put in the hands of a thoughtful director. On top of that, the acting by Jamie Gillis, Samantha Fox, Bobby Astyr, Michael Gaunt, and Vanessa del Rio (who shows up near the end of the film) is excellent across the board. I would compliment Tish Ambrose on her acting as well, but I was too busy admiring the smoothness of her backside to notice her acting. Just kidding, her lines are read with just the right amount of forcefulness.

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