The set-up for DESTRICTED was both simple and ingenuous, an idea whose time had come. Seven highly regarded visual artists, mostly hailing from the affiliated worlds of cinema and photography, were asked to shoot a short film with pornography as its subject and given total freedom as to their personal interpretation of this assignment. The results are diverse, to say the least, wildly varied in relevance as well as achievement though I would argue that none of the episodes is wholly without interest, this in marked contrast to what the generally lukewarm critical reception would seem to indicate. Being a longtime porno fan rather than a patron of the arts, I will be the first to admit that I might be out of my depth – just a smidgen – as I was relatively unfamiliar with work and background of most of the film's featured artists. Yet a variety of views keeps discussions lively and enlightening and, in that spirit, I would like to put in my two cents worth.
San Francisco's own Matthew Barney, revered and reviled for his gargantuan CREMASTER cycle – which doubled as exhibit installations as well as regular (well ) movies – and something of an upmarket tabloid darling for fathering a love child with Icelandic songstress Björk, shoves "Hoisted" down our collective throats first. An impressively endowed if crud-encrusted "Blooming Greenman" as the credits would have it, performed by Vicente Pinho Neto although several sources claim it's the director himself, makes love to and therefore gradually melds into a towering deforestation machine, with a turnip lodged halfway up his rectum ! Hey, it made me laugh. Unsure of what it's trying to say (if anything), this episode still exerts tremendous fascination out of sheer weirdness, its man merging into machinery theme reminiscent of David Cronenberg taken to visual extremes or Fred Halsted's classic gay short SEX GARAGE. Performance artist Marina Abramovic, daughter of the former Republic of Yugoslavia, injects a seriously whacked out yet admirably straight-faced sense of humor into her "Balkan Erotic Epic" relating a number of peculiar superstitions and sexual practices from the Old Country, illustrated through charmingly crude animation and live action. You haven't truly lived until you have seen the all female choir, encompassing all ages from nubile to pension, passionately rubbing their bare breasts in a plea for their crop's fertility !
Painter/photographer Richard Prince's "House Call" may seem like the most rudimentary installment, shooting a '70s hardcore loop (starring Mike Ranger and a large-breasted lady who looks a bit like Anita Sands from Joe Bardo's DEEP ROOTS but probably isn't, though credits identify the pair as "John Saint John" and "Kora Reed" respectively) off a TV screen with a self-composed organ soundtrack. In retrospect, this technique offers an incisive critique of porn viewing as a solitary (masturbatory ?) action, passive so by association not "responsible" for the visual "act", an excuse men have frequently resorted to in defense to their spouses ! The filming of the monitor removes us one step further still. Italian Marco Brambilla, who directed the okay Sly Stallone/Sandy Bullock sci fi flick DEMOLITION MAN but also the inexcusable Alicia Silverstone fiasco EXCESS BAGGAGE, edited together a huge pile of split second images from anonymous porno features as well as "risqué" mainstream fare such as Chen Kaige's ludicrous KILLING ME SOFTLY and Martin Scorsese's CAPE FEAR remake into a semi-continuous sexual encounter in "Sync", expressions of pleasure and pain – as can be spotted in a few blood-spattered frames – becoming indistinguishable. Sam Taylor-Wood's British and, although the name could go either way, a girl – if not, she would most definitely be a gay guy – as you will be able to tell from "Death Valley", showing a solitary man (Chris Raines) feverishly masturbating in the titular void. Male nudity seems to be prevalent in most episodes, perhaps going some way to explain the lack of enthusiasm in the straight male critic's response. Being queer myself, I take a "different" view, of course !
The contribution of Gaspar Noé, shock auteur of SEUL CONTRE TOUS and IRREVERSIBLE, apparently raised a lot of commentators' expectations to a level he would have trouble living up to, hence the general disappointment. Still, "We F*ck Alone" is a beautifully crafted, eerily strobe-lit juxtaposition of two lonely people separately watching a porn video starring Katsumi and Manu Ferrara. A baby's continuous wails in the background (reality intruding on porno fantasy) underscores a young woman's (Shirin Barthel) self-pleasuring session with a stuffed toy while a cute Goth guy (Richard Blondel) makes use of a gun and a blow up doll. Larry Clark, of KEN PARK infamy, comes up trumps with the misleadingly labeled "Impaled", interviewing a series of regular American boys on their relationship to nowadays readily available explicit imagery, having literally grown up with porn, in a selection process to actually perform with a real adult actress. The remarkably level-headed Daniel ultimately makes the grade and gets to pick a partner from a line-up including the likes of August, Angela Stone and Sativa Rose before settling on nervous, self-deprecating Nancy Vee, star of Kris Kramski's amazing MODELS. At the ripe old age of 40 (reflecting current society's twisted set of values), Vee's pathetically insecure and grateful for the opportunity, remarking how most guys would gladly trade her in for a couple of 20 year-olds ! Clark records yet never judges, treating his physically and emotionally naked subjects with dignity and compassion, ironically resulting in a featurette – at nearly half an hour, it's the most elaborate of the bunch – that's nowhere near as sleazy as some of his full length films like KIDS or BULLY. It may, in fact, be his best work to date as a semi-documentary filmmaker and certainly the most riveting part of this rarely less than intriguing grab bag.
San Francisco's own Matthew Barney, revered and reviled for his gargantuan CREMASTER cycle – which doubled as exhibit installations as well as regular (well ) movies – and something of an upmarket tabloid darling for fathering a love child with Icelandic songstress Björk, shoves "Hoisted" down our collective throats first. An impressively endowed if crud-encrusted "Blooming Greenman" as the credits would have it, performed by Vicente Pinho Neto although several sources claim it's the director himself, makes love to and therefore gradually melds into a towering deforestation machine, with a turnip lodged halfway up his rectum ! Hey, it made me laugh. Unsure of what it's trying to say (if anything), this episode still exerts tremendous fascination out of sheer weirdness, its man merging into machinery theme reminiscent of David Cronenberg taken to visual extremes or Fred Halsted's classic gay short SEX GARAGE. Performance artist Marina Abramovic, daughter of the former Republic of Yugoslavia, injects a seriously whacked out yet admirably straight-faced sense of humor into her "Balkan Erotic Epic" relating a number of peculiar superstitions and sexual practices from the Old Country, illustrated through charmingly crude animation and live action. You haven't truly lived until you have seen the all female choir, encompassing all ages from nubile to pension, passionately rubbing their bare breasts in a plea for their crop's fertility !
Painter/photographer Richard Prince's "House Call" may seem like the most rudimentary installment, shooting a '70s hardcore loop (starring Mike Ranger and a large-breasted lady who looks a bit like Anita Sands from Joe Bardo's DEEP ROOTS but probably isn't, though credits identify the pair as "John Saint John" and "Kora Reed" respectively) off a TV screen with a self-composed organ soundtrack. In retrospect, this technique offers an incisive critique of porn viewing as a solitary (masturbatory ?) action, passive so by association not "responsible" for the visual "act", an excuse men have frequently resorted to in defense to their spouses ! The filming of the monitor removes us one step further still. Italian Marco Brambilla, who directed the okay Sly Stallone/Sandy Bullock sci fi flick DEMOLITION MAN but also the inexcusable Alicia Silverstone fiasco EXCESS BAGGAGE, edited together a huge pile of split second images from anonymous porno features as well as "risqué" mainstream fare such as Chen Kaige's ludicrous KILLING ME SOFTLY and Martin Scorsese's CAPE FEAR remake into a semi-continuous sexual encounter in "Sync", expressions of pleasure and pain – as can be spotted in a few blood-spattered frames – becoming indistinguishable. Sam Taylor-Wood's British and, although the name could go either way, a girl – if not, she would most definitely be a gay guy – as you will be able to tell from "Death Valley", showing a solitary man (Chris Raines) feverishly masturbating in the titular void. Male nudity seems to be prevalent in most episodes, perhaps going some way to explain the lack of enthusiasm in the straight male critic's response. Being queer myself, I take a "different" view, of course !
The contribution of Gaspar Noé, shock auteur of SEUL CONTRE TOUS and IRREVERSIBLE, apparently raised a lot of commentators' expectations to a level he would have trouble living up to, hence the general disappointment. Still, "We F*ck Alone" is a beautifully crafted, eerily strobe-lit juxtaposition of two lonely people separately watching a porn video starring Katsumi and Manu Ferrara. A baby's continuous wails in the background (reality intruding on porno fantasy) underscores a young woman's (Shirin Barthel) self-pleasuring session with a stuffed toy while a cute Goth guy (Richard Blondel) makes use of a gun and a blow up doll. Larry Clark, of KEN PARK infamy, comes up trumps with the misleadingly labeled "Impaled", interviewing a series of regular American boys on their relationship to nowadays readily available explicit imagery, having literally grown up with porn, in a selection process to actually perform with a real adult actress. The remarkably level-headed Daniel ultimately makes the grade and gets to pick a partner from a line-up including the likes of August, Angela Stone and Sativa Rose before settling on nervous, self-deprecating Nancy Vee, star of Kris Kramski's amazing MODELS. At the ripe old age of 40 (reflecting current society's twisted set of values), Vee's pathetically insecure and grateful for the opportunity, remarking how most guys would gladly trade her in for a couple of 20 year-olds ! Clark records yet never judges, treating his physically and emotionally naked subjects with dignity and compassion, ironically resulting in a featurette – at nearly half an hour, it's the most elaborate of the bunch – that's nowhere near as sleazy as some of his full length films like KIDS or BULLY. It may, in fact, be his best work to date as a semi-documentary filmmaker and certainly the most riveting part of this rarely less than intriguing grab bag.