LuvSopr

Many episodes of 7th Street Theater follow a certain format - lighthearted banter, repeating the central problem a few times (in some cases quite a few times), followed by an inspirational resolution.

This episode takes something of a turn, as the focus is on Jamie (Josh Gafga) and his decision to start wearing earrings, a casual decision which quickly earns the contempt of Jon (Hugh McLean), normally the most good-natured of the group.

A writeup for this episode says it was based on a real-life incident for Gafga, which may be why a number of the conversations feel more "real" than other episodes, including Jon all but saying people will think Jamie is gay to office manager Joanna (Cody Harding) questioning Jon about whether he believes she should be banned from wearing trousers, as some denominations insist on.

The side you may expect to "win" this debate does win, but there's a surprising amount of nuance, and centering on Jamie helps, as he is consistently the character I find to be the most natural as I go through the first season.

"Drums at Midnight" centers on Neva (Majel Barrett), daughter or stepdaughter (as she calls him by his first name and clearly harbors...not very daughter-like feelings for him) of recently deceased author Cody. Neva managed to break up his various marriages until his final wife, Montine (Yvonne Regalado), to whom he left his estate. Neva deeply resents the young woman, and preys on her fears of voodoo. Her schemes advance to pressuring voodoo expert Mambo (Josephine Premice) into doing her bidding, in exchange for money Cody owed Mambo.

If none of this sounds thrilling to you, you aren't wrong, but it is entertaining to see Majel Barrett in full camp mode, setting the stage for her run as Lwaxana Troi, only sharper and more bitter. There's a moment where she barks at poor Montine to TAKE THE DOLL that could easily be slotted into Mommie Dearest.

My only other takeaway from this episode is how disconcerting John Newland is in the host role compared to the One Step Beyond days. He's certainly a very likeable presence, but rather than adding a menacing or wry edge, he comes across like a grandfather selling you coffee or Werther's Originals.

A disparate set of clips, enough to where I assumed this was a compilation film, although IAFD says otherwise. Tom Byron (when he had the '50s-style slick rocker hair) and Ariana in a relationship drama, followed by Cal Jammer agreeing to sex to get secrets (his swinging back and forth as he walks back to his car is probably the most memorable part of the film), followed by a ye olde threesome with TT Boy and two women, a campy Miami Vice-themed foursome with Cara Lott, a woman, and two men, a m/f ye olde encounter, and a foursome with Mike Horner, Don Fernando, Ashlyn Gere, and another woman. You may find some of the individual moments hot, but the presentation is so sloppy I mostly just spent my time wondering what came from where.

"Never Fool with a Gypsy Icon" follows a straightforward path - Frank Drake (Ralph Meeker) breaks out of prison and kills everyone he comes into contact with. After watching a number of Evil Touch episodes with needlessly complicated narratives, the simple story is refreshing, but its strengths rest on the shoulders of Meeker.

Meeker brings a sense of almost gleeful malice to his monstrous role, one that reminds me of the '30s and '40s Warner Brothers gangster movies. You aren't intended to root for him, as these are before the years so many shows needed to overdose on anti-heroes, but you do enjoy watching Meeker work. To his credit, Meeker also grounds the ugliness of his character when he can, particularly in a sequence where he is menacing toward a helpless older couple while trying to obtain a key.

The dusting off of the old curse storyline makes it clear where the story will end, which leads to a somewhat flabby final section, but fortunately, the very last scene has a genuine sense of justice and horror to it.

For as much as the '80s are remembered as a decade of excess and selfishness, there's a real earnestness in much of the media. I added One in a Million to IMDB as I find these earlier faith-based films much more compelling than the slicker and more cynical products of the last decade or two.

Once you get past the black opening credits (complete with heavy breathing which made me wonder what a Christian-themed encounter with the Sea Devils and the Silurians might be like), you're bathed in sunshine at the swim meet of Bobby (Trevor Wallace). Bobby is disabled, leaving him feeling worthless as he vents to his girlfriend Julie (Lyssa Williams) that any praise he gets is from pity. However, he soon shows just how important he is when he saves a baby that a kid pushed into the road, unknowingly in the path of an oncoming truck.

Up to this point OiaM comes across as one of those well-produced, inspirational Church of Latter-Day Saints PSAs that were a staple of TV at this time. And it would have been a very effective message if the film had stopped at this point. Instead, after a hero's breakfast made by his mother (Elizabeth Sinclair), he follows her request to go clean out the attic. While there, he reads through her diary (Sinclair narrating the entries) and realizes he had been aborted. After he convulses (in a scene I imagine will become a meme someday now that this is available on Youtube), he ceases to exist, and the baby is never saved. Julie, tears streaming down her face, breaks the news to the now childless Mrs. Johnson, who reacts in unnecessary slo-mo before we get more heavy breathing in the closing credits.

I'm not going to criticize the abortion aspect of the short, as there's no real point, but I will criticize the execution of the twist. I initially thought Bobby would learn he was aborted because of his disability, which is (or was) something of a rallying cry in the movement. Instead, the diary entries just have his mother saying she was unsure about having a baby after having moved too fast in her relationship. You end up wondering if this was not the original plan for the film.

The scene of him jerking and jerking and then being unborn doesn't work either - a more effective choice would have been him reading the diary, counting down the months to when he would have been born, then we see the diary drop and realize he's gone.

I still think the first half of this is worthwhile, but the rest never quite meshes. Still, I'd take this over the world of Kirk Cameron or Kevin Sorbo any day.

"Marci" (no e) treads over very familiar subject matter with a bad seed plotline pitting new stepmother Elizabeth against wicked stepdaughter Marci. Susan Strasberg, in the dimmer lights of a formerly dazzling career, gives a measured performance as Elizabeth, while Marci is played by Elisabeth Crosby, a lesser-known actress with a good deal of presence (for some reason she reminds me of Louise Lasser, in looks if not voice).

Marci ticks every box for evil child tropes, as well as one I hadn't seen as often (when a waiter reaches into the sink to retrieve the bride cake topper discarded by Marci, she turns on the garbage disposal). Elizabeth also fills the expected role of the initially forgiving heroine who begins to fight back (in an interesting twist I wish they'd spent more time on, she begins gaslighting Marci by dressing up as the mother Marci had killed). Peter Gwynne is serviceable as John, the typical dismissive husband and father of this genre. The last scene gives more reason for just why he is so dismissive of his wife's concerns - he knows everything Marci did and is willing to kill to protect her. As Elizabeth is about to find out, the fatal way.

Aside from the story not having enough room to breathe, this is a perfectly entertaining episode, and I would give it a higher rating if not for the tacked-on coda which tells us of the miserable fate awaiting father and daughter. We didn't need to know any of this - it's not as if we're going to believe they were going to have happy lives. You come away assuming they see viewers as fools, which is never a great feeling.

"Ondine's Curse" starts with a bang, as Tom (Nick Holt) gets his head knocked into a car door by a loser who is angry over a parking spot, leaving the loser and a concerned passerby to assume he's dead. As the loser flees, you briefly assume the story will follow him and some kind of haunting, but instead, Tom wakes up. A doctor tells us, and him, that he suffers from Ondine's Curse, meaning he will appear dead even when he's not. When a dangerous encounter with a hitchhiker (wearing a Superman T-shirt - the best part of the episode is when one of the characters expresses disbelief over this fashion choice) leaves him in peril, his wife (Meredith MacRae) feels psychic flashes as she tries to find him and save him.

After watching this, I watched the original version (OSB's "12 Hours to Live") and was quickly struck by how much more involving and how much better paced that episode was. "Ondine's Curse" feels cluttered and lethargic, especially in the back half. The main strength of the episode, especially if you aren't as partial to the cheap shot-on-tape look as I am, is getting to see the lovely, underrated MacRae in a role outside of her usual realm.

A morbid coda for this episode is that Nick Holt died in a car-related accident only a year later.

Given Harry Guardino's work in various Clint Eastwood films, it's fitting that he plays the lead in an episode with themes not too far away from that world. His character, lawyer Mark Harper, visits Flats Junction to prepare them for his boss (and former Flats Junction resident) Rip Baker's impending arrival. They have a very memorable welcome in mind for both men.

The bad vibes Harper feels as he steps off the train soon turn to a life-or-death struggle set in a rotted-out town, with Harper's only ally being Baker's old love, Marion (a guarded but touching performance by Elaine Lee). Marion explains that Baker came from nothing, escaping due to the ugly treatment he received; his decision to buy up most of the town as well as the bank led residents to turn to increasingly violent acts as the money dried up and they awaited his return, assuming he would foreclose on everyone.

The relative realism and brisk pace of "The Homecoming" help it a great deal - the sense of bitterness toward Baker by the few remaining townspeople is made clear without any speechifying or artistry. Harper is also not presented as a bad-ass action hero - luck and quick thinking are what keep him alive. John Meilon, as the lead baddie, moves between supervillain cackles and a certain banality that reminds you he and the rest may have once been good people before slowly being ground into the dust.

Just as Harper has seemingly met his fate, rescue comes in a train...a train carrying the body of the townspeople's great evil, Rip Baker. His coffin arrives with a note saying he plans to leave them his estate, and that he wanted to be buried among his friends. Shamed faces are our final image as Harper gets the hell out of there.

The ending works for what it is, but I would have just preferred Harper either dying or managing to escape in the nick of time, with the rest left unsaid. The "ironic" conclusion that often plays well on the page can be seen for what it is onscreen - a writing trick.

Reminders of porn parodies, the days of MCU dominance, and above all else, usage of condoms should make Captain America feel dated. Fortunately, compared to most adult entertainment spoofs with interchangeable sex workers in interchangeable costumes, the final product remains exciting, due in large part to the brilliant casting choice of Alex Mecum in the central role.

In a genre which often prioritizes aggressive sleaze, Mecum has an inherent sweetness in his screen presence that is a perfect fit for a porn version of Steve Rogers, the aw-shucks relic of the past who thrusts himself into the future in more ways than one. Mecum also has the sculpted and generously proportioned body necessary for Cap, along with a lack of tattoos that sometimes seem to be on everyone in the industry these days.

Most importantly, Mecum has genuine chemistry with all three of his partners, adding some sincerity to the usual hello-let's-get-naked format.

Mecum's strongest connection is with Jay Roberts, which helps sell that Roberts' character is his initiation into sex. They work well enough together that I was disappointed Roberts only made one appearance.

Cap then consoles, and services, an injured Black Panther, kept in leather gear and a helmet the entire time to hide that XL is playing a dual role (and maybe to add to the kinkiness factor). Mecum's combination of innocence and depravity is very well-used here.

Next is Cap's best friend and shipping partner Bucky, plagued somewhat by Paddy O'Brien not even trying an American accent (maybe for the best) and by a terrible wig, but benefited massively by Mecum's guileless nature and by a crisply edited sequence where Cap and Bucky strip themselves, and each other. If you are someone who likes to see the clothes removed instead of everyone magically getting naked, you will appreciate this sequence. Director Alter Sin has another effective version of this in MEN's Spiderman parody.

The final scene, with XL back as Nick Fury, is the weakest, but is still perfectly fine. The only complaint, aside from the usual flaw of modern smut (overextended sex scenes, is that Mecum and Sin never got another try with Cap, especially now that so many studios have moved entirely from even the flimsiest of serious story material.

Restored and made available on the UCLA's Film and TV Youtube channel, Rich makes the most of its runtime. The beautiful cinematography helps - any time you are on the street with Rich, with his friends-or-foes or his love interest, you feel as if you're right there with him. There are never any attempts to sugarcoat the struggles Rich faces or what his mother has gone through to get them both where they are. Works that are written, directed by and starring the same person can seem like vanity projects, but S. Torriano Berry plays the part with the right amount of hope and believability. Some might say the narrative of Rich bringing positive change to those in his life is unrealistic, but after so many films, especially with black leads, need to drive home the realism of a toxic environment bringing down even the most idealistic person, it's refreshing to see the inverse. The conclusion of the story arc for Rich's mother strained credulity, but I appreciated the straightforward nobility of Sussann Akers in the role. I also appreciated Rosanne Katon, who, on paper, might have been in the thankless girlfriend role (similar to her work on St. Elsewhere around the same time), but onscreen is very sweet. Her section with Rich is my favorite part of the short, bolstered by some first-rate location scouting.

The recent passing of Angela Bofill led to me watching her episode. Unsung has had a respectable run, in spite of never receiving as much mass cultural attention as Behind the Music. Episodes like this remind me of why that lack of self-parody inherent in the production isn't a bad thing. There were many opportunities for melodrama, or heavy-handed narration, which didn't happen. I was very impressed by the presentation of Angela's story, which went through the expected highs, but remained positive even while documenting her later struggles. The final moments, where Angela returns to the rehab facility that had aided in her recovery, are very moving.

From the opening moments of Ahasss, Jake finds himself in the hands - literally - of the women around him.

As played by Gold Aceron, virginal Jake has a believable mix of vulnerability and integrity that makes you care about the murkiness he finds himself thrust into without just seeing him as a sap. This sense of layering is also found in the work of Angela Morena as the heroine (or some might call her anti-heroine) Adelyn. No one else in the cast has much of a chance at playing a character, but points go to Ian Curtis for embodying every "ugly American" stereotype as Adelyn's truly monstrous husband Mr. Stonehill, and Janelle Tee as Jenny, Jake's fellow servant, who suffers from more than her own share of Stonehill's abuse.

Even as the script goes where you would easily expect, the performances of the leads and the chemistry between them maintains your interest. And the final scenes are surprisingly affecting.

I'd say I'm surprised Hearing Voices has such a low IMDB score, but I would guess one of the main reasons for the ranking is the subject matter. If anyone is reading this and is tempted to give a low ranking for the same reason, I'll just say that the character's sexuality is not that simple (he tells Erika that Carl, his boyfriend, is the only other person he's ever been with), and the film doesn't exactly treat the relationship as some kind of gay healing - the final scene has her dumping him as she feels they can never work because of his sexuality.

The main strength of Hearing Voices is Erika Nagy, who embodies a thoughtful portrayal of a woman struggling to not define herself by her disability in a world that constantly reminds her she exists for little more than her disability.

As the film goes along the focus shifts from just her to a quartet of lonely people, including Lee, his boyfriend Carl, and Erika's boyfriend Michael.

Michael is a narcissist, see-sawing between control and abuse of Erika and pity parties about how he has to live a life based on his looks. Tim Ahern does fine in the part, but I could have done with a little less of the character.

Michael Davenport as Carl gets the least time of the four characters but has an arc that I wish we'd seen more of. A doctor who struggles to not just see patients as cases, his relationship with the younger Lee is in the shadows of his late partner (given the era, it's an easy assumption that he passed of AIDS-related illnesses, but it's never clearly said).

While Nagy and Stephen Gatta have a good rapport and the sex scene between them is staged in a compelling and unique manner (Sharon Greytak does well with stylistic choices like these and the glimpses of Erika's modeling career, anxiety at a party, being inspected by doctors, etc.), the actual relationship between the two is not especially interesting, in large part because it doesn't have enough development. It just sort of starts and then ends, leaving you with the sense that they just wrapped it up because the film was wrapping up.

We do get a certain sense of closure with Erika as she decides to embrace her disability for her modeling career and cut ties with the men in her life, but I was left wanting a little more for her and especially for Lee and Carl. A movie that had slowly become about multiple people suddenly stops back where it began with just a singular focus.

Hearing Voices is still worth watching, if you can find it, for the glimmers of a lost time and place, some nice shots of New York, and performers who rarely got the dramatic chances they get here.

You know what you're getting with most softcore potboilers, but I can't say that was the case here. Rita feels modern in some ways, retrograde in others, but it offers surprises from start to finish.

Rita (Christine Bermas) marries Ariel (Victor Relosa). As he goes to Saudi Arabia for an extended job, she is left alone with her brother Marlon (Gold Aceron). Marlon is gay, which Rita finds immoral, which matters less as she begins to sink into her own immorality. Marlon also has a real crush on Ariel, which does not escape Rita's attention.

Soon after his arrival in Saudi Arabia, Ariel is sexually assaulted by his boss (credited only as "Arab" and played by Sahil Khan). After initial disgust, Ariel soon begins to enjoy Khan's company, as well as the steady supply of money he can send back home.

When Royce (Josh Ivan Morales), local roughie and friend of Ariel's late brother, catches a lonely Rita pleasuring herself, he surprises her, her disbelief soon turning to passion. Royce is one of the most love-to-hate boo hiss baddies you can find in this type of cautionary tale, and the softcore style means that Morales can go out of his way to fake an acrobatic sex style that shows you just why Rita is so tempted. At one point he kicks over the wedding photo, which is certainly a very pungent symbolism.

Due to the decision to include a shirtless Aceron to the promotional material, you might wonder if Marlon will either be "turned" or end up in Ariel's bed, but he is not involved in any of the sexcapades. The film takes a relatively restrained approach to his struggles, as we see him beaten up at school and counseled by a gay teacher.

The film kicks up a level when a shaken Ariel returns home due to his boss' death. Life should go back to normal, but Rita is still tempted by Royce, and Ariel can't shake his unleashed desires for men. Royce, meanwhile, becomes desperate to pay back his debts. In a shocking series of scenes, he not only begins blackmailing (and brutalizing) Rita, but when Ariel confesses his newly confused leanings to Royce, Royce, more blackmail in mind, seduces him! Ariel is by this point so caught up in his desires he even nearly kisses Marlon, setting the stage for the dramatic and downbeat conclusion.

Some of the undertones of this movie are difficult to digest, but is worth a try if you want a good way to pass a few hours and want to find yourself drawn into a world of characters you connect with much more than you might expect,

This is, presumably, Channel 4's version of "Das Fernsehen unter dem Hakenkreuz," which had aired in Germany several years earlier.

Propaganda outlets in wartime are studied from generation to generation, but this documentary focuses as much on the innovative technology put together in desperate bids to help the medium survive as much as studying the more widely known historical elements. Much of this study is shown through the eyes of one of the reporters of the day.

If you followed the awards campaigns for The Zone of Interest, you have probably heard plenty about the power of the everyday moments amidst a holocaust. That is also true for this documentary, which doesn't try to shock or horrify you with what you already know. In spite of this restrained touch, the darkest moments, like an interview with a doctor performing race science or a feel-good feature on veterans who have taken up dancing due to losing their legs, sacrifice none of their power.

As a whole, this followup might be worse than the original SNP, but Diamond alone kicks this up, working very hard in every scene she appears in.

After a cold open where Ron Jeremy (clothed, fortunately) mimics the grifting televangelist so prominent in '80s comedy, we head into Diamond and Marc Wallice, the latter recreating the "makin' copies" guy so popular in the early '90s, and quickly showing that Rob Schneider made that role look easier than it seemed. Diamond adds most of the personality to this generic hump by amusingly trying to keep up the stupid rhyming long after Wallice has lost interest.

Next, Jessica Fox and Lynden Johnson are gussied up for a male escort. You might think this will be Fred Garvin, but no, it's a shoehorned in Samurai parody, featuring everyone's first choice - Ron Jeremy in whiteface. He adds some bits of comedy (like wondering if he should castrate himself with his sword) and what I assume was a tribute (kissing a People magazine cover with the recently deceased Brandon Lee before tossing it away), but I'd say anything you get from this will be for the ladies. The decision to end this on a closeup of sweaty whitefaced Ron...not for anyone.

Even after Jeremy is gone, you can still hear him on the laugh track, which somehow managed to become even more unpleasant compared to the first video, with fake cackling (male and female) and a shrill cry that also sounds like Jeremy. Truly hilarious.

A particularly cheap Deep Thoughts knockoff leads into Sexline Update. Melanie Moore cuts to footage of Patricia Kennedy, as Church Bit** (reminding me that so far neither of these films have had men in drag roles), complete with tongue piercing, moaning with Sean Michaels in a commentary on censorship against "gangster rap."

Moore is then joined by and quickly seduced by man-hating Diamond in what might be the highlight of the film - a very passionate sequence which has its share of chaos (with Diamond even tearing Moore's hose with her teeth), but also some real chemistry.

Chris Collins makes a brief appearance as the owner of a dildo which serves as a take on Toonces, the Driving Cat - a cute idea which goes nowhere (they don't even use the stock footage going over a cliff that helped make Toonces such a classic...the car just sort of stops).

Diamond returns for what seems to be a take on the traditional goodnights, followed by what might have been more likely as one of the much-gossiped about afterparties. Diamond and Wallice waste no time in tearing at each other's clothes, but various other men (Guy DiSilva, Franco Armani, Hank Rose, Jeff Prober, Paul Coxxx, Rick Masters, Michael J. Cox) join in. You can hear the director's voice at times, but Diamond often manages to give an impression (real or fake) of being in command, and the quasi-gangbang has a relatively brisk runtime that means you don't drown in gonzo gore or see a lot of guys sitting around for 30 minutes looking bored. A generally worthwhile way to end the tape.

Comedy has been a part of adult entertainment from its earliest years, and parodies not far behind, reaching a high (or low) in the '00s and '10s when THIS AIN'T SUPERTRAIN XXX was surely the next in the pipeline.

Saturday Night Porn is a middle ground between those more involved cash-ins and the looser world of HANNAH DOES HER SISTERS. Borrowing a slew of recurring features from the "golden age" of SNL as well as then-current features, SNP also features several of the male performers of the day who dabbled in comedy, from Mike Horner to Ron Jeremy (announcing duties/Deep Thoughts homage only). Jonathan Morgan, one of the more frequently used 'comedians' of this era, shows up in future installments.

Unfortunately, SNP veers a little too closely to SNL in one major respect - most of the 'sketches' feel endless and lack energy. Just compare the content of this film to a particular sex scene in quasi-softcore comedy Kentucky Fried Movie to see how hot the film could have been.

"Live from..." intro and structural ripoffs may be there, but you couldn't have a live audience. Fred Lincoln substituted a laugh/applause track which adds a strangely ghoulish feel to the film.

We start with Mike Horner and Tom Byron (not averse to some comedy himself, although Horner seems to be having more fun here) a Hanz & Franz parody ending in a threeway with Chris Collins, getting inevitable use out of a cruder version of the "we want to pump...you up," catchphrase.

Next is Patricia Kennedy and Marc Wallice as The Coneh...er...The Pec*erheads. The highlight of this is Kennedy's contortions as she tries to pleasure herself before hubby arrives.

Debi Diamond and Melanie Moore appear as Two Wild and Horny Bitc*es, which is the answer you'd get if you ever wondered what if Dan Aykroyd and Steve Martin didn't really try for accents but did have sex with each other. I'd guess the average viewer would be more inclined to enjoy Diamond and Moore.

Moore and Horner return for Sexline Update, with Moore as anchorwoman (in the middle of a 20-year span of SNL not having female anchors - I suppose SNP wins in the feminist stakes). Horner does a cheaply written Emily Litella to lead up to a very frantic desk-set sex scene.

Last, but not least, is their take on the infamous It's Pat sketches. As porn with trans performers was even more niche at this time, you instead have Chris Collins in a more subdued but surprisingly decent turn. The solution to Wallice and Lana Sands' confusion over Pat's gender is to have a threesome. After a good buildup, the most memorable part of this overextended sequence may be that Wallice is wearing the same striking green bikini briefs that stole the show in MODEL WIFE.

I will be curious as to how the next two installments compare.

Another example of an adult movie that might have been much more interesting with the casts and editing styles of a decade earlier, the most interesting thing about Nasty Newshounds may be that the headstrong heroine (Megan Leigh) and sleazy anti-hero (Jon Martin) buck convention by never sleeping together. They barely even interact aside from bickering at the start and the end. Megan Leigh's only real encounter is with Peter North (dull as ever, but those money shots bring in the cash) as their editor.

Martin's use is an indication of his being on his way out of the business - only given one sex scene and said scene (with Kathleen Gentry as a cynical take on Liz Taylor even though Gentry was 30 years younger than Taylor and nearly 15 years younger than Martin) isn't done with any particular care (if anything in this film was). He remains a capable performer, but the closeups on him make him look completely exhausted.

The other strand of the story involves Blake Palmer as an even more thinly veiled jab at Bruce Willis, surprisingly harsh until you remember that Willis was probably at his public nadir at this point (pre-Die Hard, in the midst of a fading Moonlighting and a derided music career). Palmer gets off with a groupie (Barbie Doll) and the same ambitious reporter (Jennifer Steel) who previously put out to North. Leigh also has a moment in here, enjoying herself to Palmer and Doll. These sequences are probably the strongest in the movie, or at least the most unique, as with Palmer and Steel you get another of those straight porn moments where the positions end up focusing so heavily on the man (in this case, specifically, Palmer's impressive girth and, well, his hole) that you wonder if this was done as a service to the gay guys in the VHS-renting crowd.

The joke is you don't watch porn for the plot, but when the porn itself isn't up to much, your mind wanders to the plot. In this case, both story strands falter. Gentry, learning from Martin that her love life no longer interests the public, has a tryst with her bodyguard (Laurel Canyon). Once Martin goes to leave with his new scoop, Canyon runs after him and pushes him in the pool, ruining his footage. Did they not know he was going to run a story when that was clearly the whole conversation? Did Gentry no longer want the career boost?

The photos of Palmer are of him sleeping with a reporter (Steel). Yet during their conversation, Palmer tells her (in what is, of course, treated as a joke) he had to bottom for men in the industry to get famous. Wouldn't that story have sold much more copy for them than a sexcapade with some woman the readers wouldn't know?

As the film finally ends, Martin's character is the biggest loser (in more ways than one) but has the last word. Lor_ has mentioned in his reviews the basic contempt the writer behind this film (and many other films) had for his audience and for the genre that gave him so much employment. After sitting through this movie, and the sour closing notes, I completely get it.

The Mayor, also known as Kid Mayor, has a compelling premise - a teenage mayor who has to cope with professional and personal struggles - but the product is a very strong example of the cesspit of early '00s culture.

A cast who had already proven themselves (Harry Groener and Christine Ebersole as the parents, Larry Miller as the scheming ex-mayor, Samm Levine as the best friend) or would prove themselves in the future (Anna Kendrick as the sister, Ben Feldman in the title role), all do their best with dreck.

The pilot pretty much starts with his mother being given prison rape jokes about him, and little improves from there. You may read this and think this is brave (or un-PC, or un-woke, or whatever the latest buzzword is), but.in this case the execution is a sea of cringe. The laziness of the writing also means no character is spared - even a little scene where we learn grandmothers like Feldman because he plays the piano for them ends in them groping him for a cheap laugh.

With time, this could have been a better show, but otherwise, you're probably just better off watching Ben Wyatt on Parks and Rec.

A few years ago I read an article at Rialto Report about Andrea True's attempts at getting a wage increase for adult film performers. After watching Round Robin, I can certainly see why. She is in every scene, as even when she is not physically present, she is endlessly talking. Some of the lines I remember, among many, many others: "We weren't bilingual, but we were cunnilingual." "I rode her like a palomino, and she was a real pal-of-mine-o." "I was watching Love of Life, and I was loving life." And the one to truly treasure: "We're playing two for the seesaw and boy is my see saw!" This is not purple prose as much as gangrene gibberish, but Andrea sells it about as well as anyone could. Andrea also repeats "more, more, more," several times in the film...

The pornographic prattling starts when she seduces a young male dancer (credited here as Jim Gregs and Mike Simmons and on IAFD as Frank Wixon - he reminds me a bit of Paul Thomas, in looks, although it's obviously not him), but much of the film is focused on three sex scenes - True with a galpal (Rachel Lee Harris, wearing a wig that steals most of the attention), and prattling on about the sex life of her student/lover and his wife (Cindy West), both real and fantasy. The real scene has West and Gregs taking over their share of the yammering. The fantasy scene is mercifully dialogue-free, but features annoying "with it" beeping sounds, a hangover of the late '60s. The whole atmosphere of this sequence reminds me of the Turn-On episodes that miraculously reappeared in recent months.

The film winds down with a West/True combo, followed by a happy ending (in more ways than one) with True and her no longer quite so dull husband (Ken Stevens), but by this point you mostly feel spent. Still, if you are curious to see a lot of Andrea, need any porn puns, or just want to see a few actors who did not appear in 50 other productions, you might want to watch.

Kay Parker was one of the most beautiful women ever in adult film, and more beautiful than quite a few mainstream ladies. It feels wrong to see her in this grimy looking video format which barely bothers with flattering lighting or style. Even for the grotty VHS era, some of the shots, especially when she's emceeing a fashion show, are terrible. Her air in general doesn't feel right, probably because she knows what was a special time and place had come to a tacky end.

Beyond appreciating just how hard Billy Dee has to work to keep the movie pumping, the only other note of interest is R Bolla in the flaming gay role that repeatedly went to talent like Bobby Astyr. If Bobby had not been done, or just about done, with the industry, I wonder if he might have been brought in here.

There's something compelling about the very depressed, lethargic energy Bolla brings to the part, and what is clearly a transactional, one-sided relationship with Dee (who visibly recoils at his effeminate partner). Even if nothing is shown between the men beyond an arm touch, you rarely see a sexual relationship between two men in straight porn, even more rarely that it isn't played for laughs.

The scene where Parker struts in and converts Bolla while also servicing Dee should have been a fascinatingly camp turn on the idea of the '80s shoulder pad goddess having it all. Parker even has a great line when she says that she knows what men want, even when they don't know. That this type of fantasy seeing of the light happens not with the usual stud, but with a middle-aged man, is another element you won't see very often (if ever).

Unfortunately, the execution of the scene is extremely disappointing. Bolla spends the entire time with wood problems (I don't remember him having them in some of his other films by this late date, so I wonder if this shoot just wasn't great for anybody), leaving him to feel like a hanger-on and making Parker look foolish for even putting up with him.

There are one or two good moments when this awkward scene finally ends, seemingly with none of the three performers sure of where to go. Dee playfully punches Bolla on the arm and says "not bad." Bolla replies with, "Get out of my house," and everyone laughs. One of those pieces of porn where the setup is so poor you don't care about the actors breaking through.

Polly Bergen had a long, successful career in television and film, but I am never sure if she found her defining role. In another world, Selena might have been that role.

Available in a 15-minute pilot form only (a full series was ordered, then rescinded), the end result benefits from the tight timeframe, along with confident direction from John Frankenheimer that is particularly on display in action scenes.

The idea of a woman who wants to be a secret agent but does not rely on guns (or any real violence) can be read as a contrast to the increasing popularity of leather-clad, butt-kicking heroines like Cathy Gale or Emma Peel of Avengers fame, although I'm not entirely sure how much impact they'd had Stateside by this point. (The Avengers would have a variation of this theme in its final year, with Tara King).

This idea could be seen as sexist and might be in a world where many views of female characters are still defined by Buffy Summers, but Bergen manages to carry the message with grace and without feeling out of place. There's a line she has when James Daly (a good scene partner) urges her to start using a gun: "I'm a woman, and I wanna stay that way." With those words from Bergen's lips, you don't roll your eyes - you believe it.

The highlight of the pilot is a fashion show marred by a gas attack, but honorable mention goes to a boisterous train sequence, where Carroll O'Connor appears in a way you would never expect.

There's a certain line of thinking that would tell you serious debates over homosexuality, or marriage equality, are a thing of the past. The fact that Living Waters, who made Audacity, have close ties to the current speaker of the US House will tell you otherwise.

I'm not going to act like I was extremely offended by this film. Of course I do not agree with the message itself (renounce homosexuality or burn in hell), but I've seen much more openly homophobic material not just in Christian films, but in mainstream works, and any day that I go on social media. The token gay characters are mostly sympathetic, with the least sympathetic (who is, as is the tradition with stereotypes, a white, effeminate male), being framed as being so defensive due to hostile treatment from Christians in the past. The very few Christian films that have gay characters often just paint them as damned, say they were either abused as children or abuse children themselves, but it's not quite that simple here. And frankly, I was just interested in seeing more Christian films with gay characters at all, having grown up just seeing them as sad stories on the 700 Club or Jack Van Impe.

There are a number of positives in the film. Peter manages to thread the line between the goofy comic relief and the uber-sincere conversion tracts, thanks to the work from Travis Owens. I have no idea if the people in the film agreed with the message or just wanted a check, but the acting is better than I often would expect from these types of productions.

One of the biggest issues, and I'm not trying to sit here asking for representation in Christian gay healing films, I promise, is that we do not actually get to see the gay characters from their own point of view. The most overt story in the film that is advertised as being about how to talk to gay people ends up cheating - when Peter preaches the Good Word to Robert (the more docile half of the gay couple), it's drowned out by some tedious emo rock song. A film about giving the Gospel to the gay or gay-friendly world should have given that moment. And as they part ways, you find yourself wondering if Robert will stay with his boyfriend, or choose celibacy, or try to "go straight." This path not shown ends up being more interesting than the end of the film.

Diana, the main female and quasi-love interest, is revealed as formerly being in a lesbian relationship at movie's end, but we don't get to go on that journey with her. They do have a scene at dinner together early in the movie, but little to nothing in her interaction with this other woman suggests they are or were a couple. And again, the film avoids a genuinely compelling issue they could have had - how would Peter have reacted to her being a lesbian or bisexual while he preaches to her and is clearly attracted to her? Would he see himself as being a sinner and preying on her doubts because of his own interest? As they don't address this (he never even knows she is into women), the message of the film ends up being if you have enough faith, you can turn a woman straight. Maybe they should have approached Ben Affleck for the part.

There are a number of twists in the film that are just confounding. Peter has a dream where his rushing for a delivery and refusing to be honest with a lesbian couple leads them to die in an elevator crash. That's one way to give motivation, I guess, but before that point, there is a scene where Diana berates him over being homophobic because she has a lesbian sister. After he wakes up, he goes to talk with her, and this all turns out to have been a dream as well. It's very confusing. Why not have Diana, in the dream, tell Peter that she is gay? Wouldn't that make more sense with her story arc?

We also hear about her sick brother, whose health leads her to leave her date with Peter at his friend's standup set. This coincides with Peter's big break, and undercuts the faith-based message of the film, as he doesn't seem all that bothered by a woman he cares about having to leave due to her dying brother. This sequence is especially odd because instead of seeing her with her dying brother, we get one last lesson that has little to do with the rest of the film - her car breaks down and a man she thinks is a thug breaks into her car and saves her from being hit by an oncoming car. We then have a friend of his blasting her in a news interview for being judgmental, which seems a bit much, given that she was alone at night, out of gas, going through a spiritual crisis, and preparing for her brother's death.

We don't even hear what happens to her brother. Maybe Peter visited him once.

The film, either as entertainment or propaganda, would have benefited with a much more streamlined script, and about ten minutes sliced off - namely, the generic standup from Peter's friend (although Ben Price is an amiable, charismatic presence), and in particular, the preaching-man-on-the-street segments from Ray Comfort. Clearly these were the main points of the film, but they come across as smug and overly simplistic (although Comfort is more gracious toward his interview subjects than the Jay Leno/Jimmy Kimmel versions of this used to be), and just leave you feeling a bit annoyed. I did like his interview with one woman who essentially takes the interview from him, surprising him with the reveal that he has been talking to a lesbian all along. You get the sense even he ended up respecting her.

This era of bi porn was often likely to feature Sharon Kane, bad comedy, or both. Bisexual Awakenings is heavy on the latter, and the other constant of these films - bad execution of an interesting concept. The concept being - rather than the usual stories with straight men being tempted to the other side, or gay couples who just magically hump women, what happens if women seduce gay men?

Most of today's bisexual entertainment lacks the relative originality of this film's central concept, but I do wonder how much better they might have done with the material (ditto for one of the only other films I can remember with this theme - the even more risible Curious?). Then again, the concept would probably be too controversial today, as shown with some of the backlash against The Affairs of Lidia (which doesn't even delve that heavily into the topic).

There are four connected scenes, as Gino Gultier seduces Angela D'Angelo's homophobic husband Anthony Gallo only for her to catch them and initiate a screeching Gino, followed by desperate Alyssa Allure taunting closeted Ekzavir Falcon Wray and Shawn Islander until Wray decides to show her just how manly they are, leading to a suddenly guilt-ridden Wray confessing to his boyfriend Jeff D. Kota, whose virulent misogyny/biphobia ends with Wray and Bobbi Bliss turning him to the bi side, ending in Kota hammily confronting Islander until the even hammier Candy Apples barges in and shuts down their fighting with her body (and a trusty strap-on).

The scenes generally veer toward loud and annoying, with the second scene having the most potential due to a genuine sensuality from Wray and Allure and no real focus on struggling for laughs. Wray is the only reliable male performer in the film, but an overall decent scene is let down by Islander, who is clearly unable to perform with a woman (another near-constant for this genre). He's no better in his return scene, but that scene is so frantic and shrill you don't notice as much. The scene with Kota, Bliss and Wray isn't bad either, but is let down by focusing too much on dire comedy overacting and poor camera angles. I would have been curious to see Kota without so much bad sitcom parody acting in both his scenes, as he is an adequate performer in the area that tends to matter most here.

The movie is worth checking out if you want to try something different, but I'd mostly suggest just the second scene.

With the tragic passing of Christian Oliver, I decided to watch this short. Oliver plays the straight man, with more of the comic heft going to sidekick Flula Borg. A back-of-the-napkin idea (Borg being dumb enough to name their gardening business "Blow Me", anti-German nicknames, and a standoff with a Mexican gardening group who run the local trade) works better than you might expect, lifted by a late scene-stealing turn by Roland Kickinger. Even the cameos from bigger names that can sometimes derail these smaller shorts mostly work, especially a very funny turn from Tony Shaloub.

The one drawback is Jeremy Sisto, certainly a fine actor, but given too much play in a one-note comedy role.