Review: Disorienting Dick

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2022
Images from the Internet

Disorienting Dick
Directed by Richard Griffin
Reasonable Moving Picture Company; Scorpio Film Releasing
88 minutes, 2022
https://www.facebook.com/ScorpioFilmReleasing

Historically, director Richard Griffin likes to reuse cast members in phases. For a while it was actors like Sarah Nicklin, Michael Thurber, and Michael Reed, for example. Then, overlappingly, it was those such as Elyssa Baldassarri , Jamie Dufault, Johnny Sederquist (aka Ninny Nothin), and Anna Rizzo, and lately it’s been Samantha Acampora, Sarah Reed, and especially Graham Stokes. The last two also appear in his latest opus, the strongly LGBQT(etc.) themed Disorienting Dick. Stokes full frontal nudity in the first shot gives the viewer a – er – taste of things to come.

Graham Stokes

This is also a very sharp political commentary as we meet Dick’s mom, the appropriately named Maureen Whiteman (Leslie Racine Vazquez), a Qanon, conspiracy-focused, money and power-hungry politician running for Mayor in a city in Rhode Island (where this is filmed), who is reminiscent of Sarah Palin, Lauren Boebert or Marjorie Greene (though Maureen is intelligent, unlike those others). The mock political ad at her introduction is both ridiculously over the top, and yet quite scary as it is also reflective of a certain level of Republican “values” as they stand today; it is also a theme that permeates the whole film. The subtle Ayn Rand reference by Dick is also telling.

Leslie Racine Vazquez

Dick, in the meanwhile, has a fiancée, Pat (Sarah Reed), who wears a Jesus sweatshirt, but it’s pretty obvious that it isn’t going to last as Dick becomes, in the words of the film, “oriented” (rather than converted). You just know it’s going to conflict with his mom. I am enjoying the political aspects of the story so far, rather than it being more of a gay romp like Griffin’s previous (short), Gay as the Sun (2020; reviewed HERE), which also starred Stokes.

Sarah Reed

While Dick is in the closet and having wild, softcore fantasies about men, his mother finds out his desires, and has him taken to the “Clinic for the Terminally Dandy,” an evil right wing conversion therapy organization (conversion therapy, by the way, is now banned by our neighbors to the north, in Canada; in the United States, only Washington DC has barred the practice on adults). It is run by the evil doctor Hyde Hippocampus (Terry Shea), dressed in black with a black eye patch on his right eye and his Nurse Rached-type nurse assistant, DeFarge (Amy Thompson). Advanced treatment includes the “Lindsey Graham Initiative.” Sorry to give some of the jokes away, but it’s just a smidge of them, and I am trying to clarify that this is a smart film as well as smutty (meant in a good way). 

But that’s not the whole story, as Dick keeps getting kidnapped back and forth between the conversion therapy and a competing “Clinic for the Fabulously Dandy” run by the twin of the other doctor, Jekyll Hippocampus (also Terry Shea) but with bright red clothes and a red eye patch on the other eye, and a non-binary nasty also Nurse Rached type, Atari 2600 (Albert Lin). Therapy includes such things as “Jungian Interpretive Dance.” At the latter institute, they try to get Dick out of the closet. Between the two, no wonder he is so disoriented.

Amy Thompson, Vazquez, Terry Shea, Stokes

The set designs and clothing in the second, positive clinic, by Margaret Wolf and Angela Shulman, are bright pastel colors, which reminded me of the original “Star Trek” series. In the conversion one, the color theme is muted and white, with no pizazz. The director once told me that the comparison of the gay sex in his film The Sins of Dracula (2014; reviewed HERE) was hanging of the chandelier type, whereas the straight couple sex was missionary and boring. This is a similar idea here.

Perhaps I am reading too much into the story, but it almost seems like the percentages are flipped, where 90 percent of the characters are some shade or degree of gay or bi, and 10 percent are straight. It is an interesting concept. In all, this is a morality play on what is right and wrong, with the philosophically metaphorical devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, with one leaning toward straight and one towards being gay, but in this case, which is on which side? In fact, Jesus and the Devil appear in the film momentarily as that inner battle is in play (having those two in a Griffin release(ing) is nothing new (in fact Michael Reed has played both in different films of his, but I digress…).

Albert Lin, Shea

While some of the acting is appropriately over-emoted, there are a lot of really brave performances, by the likes of Victoria Paradis, Vazquez, and especially Stokes. The writing is especially sharp with both political and social commentary that does not drag the story down in any way, and at times quite biting (no pun intended); and the sex and nudity is all male on male and sometimes quite explicit, though not as much as, say, Shortbus (2006). The single lesbian scene is, not surprisingly, unseen. DD has a definitive direction in which it is going, and it follows true to its path, and I respect that, a lot.

There are a lot of elements going into this basic story, including sock puppets (you read that correctly), but deep down, it has a single theme. The last line of the film sums up the philosophy of Disorienting Dick in one sentence quite well (I will not give it away). You should definitely find out for yourself. Maybe the viewer might even learn something about themselves.

IMBD Listing HERE

Review: The Midas Touch

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2021
Images from the Internet

The Midas Touch
Directed by Tilman Borck
FTB Productions; Indie Rights Movies
110 minutes, 2020
https://www.themidastouch.online/

In the words of Seth Meyers, “what we need right now” is a good sexually religious farcical comedy that is not afraid to push that proverbial envelope to beyond its flap. Director, writer, and actor Tilman Borck dips his – err – toe into the pool with this updating of the Greek legend of King Midas, but with a tug n twist, if not several.

Gino Wilson

We are introduced to milquetoast Felix Blythe (Gino Wilson), who is a low-level advertising drone in an office. Unlike the meaning of his name – “Felix” is happy and peppy, “Blythe” (blithe) indicates carefree – Felix is a humdrum worker who is constantly bullied by his boss Ron (Clayton Nemrow) and co-workers, and looked down upon by others for his shy spirit. While he has literal dreams of sexual exploits with beautiful women, in actuality, like the chartered accountant in the Monty Python’s Flying Circus sketch, his life is “dull, dull, dull…” He is a “very quiet man in a very loud world.”

The other main characters are the polar opposite of Felix, in that they are colorful, but bizarre. There’s self-help guru Sviatoslav Rău (the director, Borck) and his hapless Sidekick (Bernhard Bozian), both of whom dress as if it were the 19 Century, with cane and cape; a Trump-ish self-centered right-wing politician James Walker (Nicolas Buitrago); and his sensuous and statuesque wife, Sarah (Transylvania-born Noémi Domokos), upon whom Felix has a crush. Sarah also runs a small religious cult comprised of women.

Tilman Borck, Bernhard Bozian

While drowning his sorrows, Felix manages to inherit the titular Midas Touch. In a nutshell, it is a hex that can become a curse, even to him. This is not a fairy tale so it does not make princesses fall in love with whomever they touch, but rather makes them hornier than a hoot owl. But can Felix live – err – up to it? Even a young man needs to recoup. I remember a line by comedian David Brenner saying that after once, for him it was something like trying to chop down a tree with an overcooked asparagus. How much of a good thing is too much?

Anyway, what this means for the viewer is that there is plenty of onscreen (softcore) sex and full nudity of both men and women. Sure, this is a male’s fantasy, they make an emphasis about that, and there is even an anti-Feminist nod in the scroll at the bottom of a news report, but I will say that this is pandering to the male audience rather than trying to make a huge political comment about the role of sex. I would have liked to see what would happen if Felix touched a gay man, to see if it would affect that way as well. The film is reminiscent of sex comedies that were popular in mostly art houses and Times Square in the late 1960s and ‘70s, such as The Erotic Adventures of Robin Hood (1969) and Alice in Wonderland: An Adult Musical Fantasy (1976; the latter softcore version played at a neighborhood theater in which I was an usher).

Noémi Domokos

As the names of the actors may hint at, this is a European production (Germany, I believe), though filmed in crisp English for those who struggle with accents. 

It is smartly filmed, even initially with characters who have not yet met move in and out around each other as the story progresses and they keep passing or literally bumping into each other. But of course, by the end, all will converge, with the evil attempting to persuade the poor Felix.

The acting is kind of goofy, but again, this is an extremely broad comedy with a really low moral bar, and the over-emoting belies that, but it is also very funny in parts, with Rău being the oddest character with the best lines, and his reading of his “cult” speech is definitely a highlight of the film, reminiscent of the “Spanish Inquisition” bit from, again, Monty Python. Wilson is actually spot on in his character, as a squeaky mouse that finds his teeth. The Ron/boss character reminds me a lot of the similar Gary Cole role in Office Space (1999).

While mostly it is comedy and nekkidity, there is also surprisingly a body count (albeit relatively small), and some unexpected gore. It made me smile.

Cayton Nemrow

One of the interesting aspects of this film is that there is no real love interest for Felix, just an object of lust in Sarah. Usually, there’s a secondary or friend character who, at the end, becomes the heroine of the piece, and I find that truly different and admirable. Also, I enjoyed the O. Henry-ish surprise at the end.

There is an extremely large cast of extras here, which is also commendable. While ridiculous, it doesn’t fall into the sheer stupidity trap of the likes of some of the sex comedies from the States, like the Porky’s series or the those with Seth Rogan (sorry, but I am not a fan); perhaps it’s the European sensibilities.

Sure, parts of this are pure goof, but there is an undercurrent of smartness, a relish of skewering topics, and a joyousness in its total abandon. Add some decent filmmaking, and this is definitely watchable, especially for a first-time feature director. Honestly, though, I would not consider it a date movie as it is the antithesis of the Hallmark Channel fare, but rather along the lines of the old Cinemax Channel.

 

Review: Gay as the Sun – A Documentary

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2020
Images from the Internet

 

Gay as the Sun – A Documentary
Directed by Richard Griffin
Scorpio Film Releasing / Nova Film Productions
32 minutes, 2020
www.scorpiofilmreleasing.com

The tagline for this film may sound familiar: “From the beginning of time to the end of the Universe… Is Billy.” This should not be confused with the infamous opening of Kurt Vonnegut’s brilliant novel, Slaughterhouse Five: “Billy Pilgrim has become unstuck in time.” But this is a comedy spoof, so why not?

The subtitle of the film is a bit of comedy, but this is also a sci-fi release in the form of a documentary, but it goes so much deeper than that. The tone it takes is in the form of those pseudo-documentaries they used to do about nudist colonies in the late 1950s and early ‘60s that was used as a framework that was acceptable (somewhat) to what had become of the Hays Office. Essentially, the documentary format was a legal way to show nude bodies without it being considered “smut.” Auteurs like Doris Wishman (d. 2002) and Hershell Gordon Lewis (in his pre-gore mode; d. 2016) were pioneers in this field, with most of their films coming out of southern Florida. This one is from Rhode Island.

We are presented with the first chapter through the introduction of Adam (Rick Irizarry) and Steve (Nolan Burke) in the Garden of Eden – that’s right – narrated with gentility over a very sanitized melody that actually sounds like it came from one of those early films. Hmm, I wonder who did their ink? Anyway, if you remember the Eden story, it was not clothing optional, it was sans mode. Oh, if you haven’t guessed by the title, this is going to be a wiener fest like nobody’s biz.

 

Sarah Reed

But three minutes in, the film takes a turn one might not expect, and I won’t give it away. In a brilliant move (with a tone of social commentary) we meet Eve (Sarah Reed), equally bare, before both are tempted by a drag queen snake (Ninny Nothin, aka Johnny Sederquist) to take that forbidden bite of the apple.

 Okay, I have to stop here for a sec. It’s 5 minutes into the film, and I have been laughing nearly non-stop, between the narration and the action on the screen. This is so well written and thought out, that I’m looking forward to hitting the play button again. This is irreverent as all get out, so if you’re bothered by Adam and Steve, you are going to love the conclusion of this chapter, which is essentially a history of body shaming (Wait, the Bible? Genesis? Chapter 1? Shaming? Yeah, that sounds about right).

 It’s in chapter 2, which is now narrated by the less somber sounding Terry Shea, where we meet our pal Billy (Graham Stokes). Poor Billy suffers from said self-body loathing, so as therapy, he goes to a nudist colony called, yep, “Gay as the Sun.” We get to follow a mostly silent Billy (perhaps a nod to Lewis’ 1961 infamous release, The Adventures of Lucky Pierre?), as the narrator “joins along.” Billy explores the camp and meets strange characters like a shirt bandit (Ronald Martin) who steals, well, it ain’t lupins, and Gay Dracula (a fun turn by Robert Kersey).

 

Graham Stokes

The film stops at times for interviews with some of the characters, such as the bandit and Billy’s nutball parents, often with a subtle sarcastic tone that, again, shows some really good writing by director Griffin and Robyn Guilford. One of my fave moments is when we meet a “Karen” named Karen (Erin Haas) – VP of the Eric Trump Fan Club – who angrily takes the whole film to task in a Monty Python’s Colonel splash. I was beside myself.

With the multitude of male nudity (and some female as well), and the profane tone, there may be some hesitation of some viewers, but if you’re an open spirit and love a really smartly written comedy with balls to the wall laughs, I recommend this, as I chortled all through it. Some of that came from the references, but even beyond if that’s not your thing, it’s a good hoot.

 

Gay Dracula

And how does this gay romp fit into the motif of this blog? It has a science fiction backbone to it that was also reminiscent of the old ‘50s sci-fi glut of low budget films. That’s good enough for me.

Will Billy find balance with his own skin? Perhaps find love? There is an abundance of choices at the camp, with lots of men with bodies exposed doing things that the old Wishman/Lewis employed to express nudity in action, such as montages of washing (stand-up showers, of course), sun bathing (front and back), volleyball, and hula-hoops. Maybe someday there will be a version that comes out in 3D called Gay as the Sun 3D – A DUCK!-umentary. I said what I said.

See the trailer and/or rent the film HERE

Review: Strapped for Danger

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2017

Images from the Internet

Strapped for Danger

Directed and edited by Richard Griffin

Scorpio Films Releasing

73 minutes, 2017

www.facebook.com/strappedfordanger/

So, here’s the thing: I have some film reviews to catch up on, and am even in the middle of one I am enjoying, but I was just given the opportunity to see this newest Richard Griffin film, and my writing world fucking came to a halt. Despite Griffin’s tendency to be extremely prolific by averaging two to three films a year up to this point, for those of us who revel in indies, this is an event to be taken seriously, no matter how ludicrous the premise of the film. As far as the ridiculousness level goes, well, check out the trailer below. Needless to say, I am chomping at the bit, as it were, in a non-S&M innuendo way.

Playwright Duncan Pflaster has come up with a script that sort of crosses a host of genres such as Ocean’s 11 (et al.) and Thelma and Louise (1991) group crime dramady, male stripper and drag queen love stories like Magic Mike (2012) and To Wong Foo Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar (1995), in addition to the wild frat houses of Animal House (1978), and then tossed the whole thing over the rainbow of any sense of sanity. But does it all work? Let you know when I’m done…

The basic premise is as follows: Some male strippers rob the club in which they dance, kidnap a copper, and hide out in an accomplice’s ex-fraternity, which happens to be during pledge hell week. While this takes place in Boston, it could be any college as in that city you can just about throw a Trojan and hit one.

Anthony Gaudette

We meet non-exclusive strippers and lovers Joey (Anthony Gaudette) who is the ringleader, and Matt (Diego Guevara), and their pan-sexual-yet-semi-closeted always-in-sunglasses friend Chuck (Dan Mauro) at the Bigg Club, where they work. And apparently where they rob, when they take off with the joint’s money, the customer’s clothes and wallets, and a kidnapped police officer named – of course – Rod (C. Gerlad Murdy).

With Rod’s partner Elaine (Anna Rizzo) in hot (in more ways than one) pursuit, you know it’s all circling around to a confrontation of a possible South-of-the-Border-named-stand-off (see the film to get the joke).

Unlike, say, Magic Mike, the love focus of the story is not boy-meets-girl, but boys-screw-boys, and there are a lot of male genitalia on display. Luckily, I don’t have that cultural thing that many straight guys have where they are put off by others’ peni because they are under the belief it will make others think they are gay. Body parts are body parts, and there’s always Sarah Reed’s nudity in the film to keep anyone else hopefully contented. But the male nipples and naughty bits, as it were, far outnumber the female. 

Diego Guevara

Which brings me to a point that I find quite interesting: as I mentioned Thelma and Louise above, this film is sort of the reverse side of it (and many other “chick flicks” – a term I’m not always comfortable with, by the way), where it’s the men who are the dashing anti-heroes, and the women are those who are obnoxious and overbearing. Please note that I find the idea of this quite amusing. This is the flip of a much more common thread of women good/men bad motif. 

There is a nice mixture of insane love, real love, and just rubbing against each other to cause sparks. As he has done in previous films such as The Sins of Dracula (2014), Griffin shows straight sex as boring and missionary, but male-with-male as much more exciting. But what makes this all work, honestly, is the level of humor employed. Pflaster’s writing is sharp as a tack, and I found myself laughing often. There’s no great Dickensian comeuppance, though I’m sure they could figure out a way to make that into a suitable innuendo as they do often in the story. However, there are many revelations and a few surprises in store. And my favorite line may actually be an ad lib, spoken by Rizzo, who demands, “What in the raging shits is this?” in a kind of updated Dorothy Parker query.

Speaking of which, let me discuss the cast a bit. Anthony Gaudette can be seen as the – err – straight man, as it were, as he is the one in charge, and he feeds the comic lines to others more than he takes them on himself. In the ‘60s, his character would probably have a name like Colt Steele. With dashing good looks in a pre-chub Ben Affleck kind of way, his has a good handle on who his character is about. Guevara, on the other hand, looks like a cute puppy with a biting wit and some killer dance moves. He makes Matt loveable, yet sharp, and Guevara has the ability to play to both sides well. The chemistry between the two is a large part of what makes this film work so well.

Sarah Reed and Dan Mauro

As for the two main female characters, Rizzo plays a classically hard-boiled, tabacca-chewin’ police officer who feels the unrequited nth degree for her abducted partner. She plays it a bit over the top, which is actually nice to see because she usually plays her parts very subtly and nuanced. As I’ve seen her do some quite serious and heavy roles, it’s nice to see her take a comic, anger-fueled character that if the genders were reversed, might be played by someone like Jack Nicolson or (and this is a stretch) Edgar Kennedy. The lead villain is the hyper-sexualized (i.e., the frat slut) Beverly, handled well by Sarah Reed. With a snort to punctuate the end of each sentence and a Lawng Eyeland-ish accent reminiscent of the Lina Lamont character from 1952’s Singin’ in the Rain and a personality reminiscent of Nancy Spungen, it’s hard to like her (which is the point, of course), yet you can certainly understand what the Chuck character sees in her, as she can be cute beneath the sneer.

Another funny side character is the person running a WonderSpa in one scene, played with gusto by Lee Rush, who only has a few lines and makes the most of it. During that one set piece, Samantha Accampora does a wonderful and silent Sam Peckinpaw-ish slow motion bit. The most sympathetic female character is a lonely quickie mart worker Carol, portrayed by Hannah Heckman-McKenna. I wanted to give her a reassuring hug after her scene.

Anna Rizzo and Johnny Sederquist

But the title of Scene Goniff Supreme by far is Johnny Sederquist’s turn as drag queen Piñata Debris, who makes every scene she is in his own. Even with enough face paint to make Lucille Ball seem bald and the exquisite Lady Bunny possibly blush, Sederquist makes Debris seem both ridiculous and a bit sympatric in a balls-out bitchy way (pun intended). He nails the drag queen persona, I am assuming in part because he actually does drag from time to time. Yeah, I’m a Sederquist fan.

There are the occasional weird moments, like a college student at the frat house calling the library the “lie-berry,” but it’s also part of the film’s charm, actually. But I want to make sure to make a comment on John Mosetich’s cinematography. Some of the shots are stunningly beautiful, such as one of a close-up of Guevara staring at the camera as flower petals fall in slow motion. That was just one of the moments where I verbally said, “wow.”

I haven’t delved much into the story because I don’t want to prejudice the viewer. There is so much that can be discussed that would give away too much of the story, and more importantly the fun. It really is a hysterically funny film going to places that most viewers rarely see. While taking wide swaths with its story direction, it’s actually a very tight film with few locations (as is common with indies). I can’t wait to hear the commentary track once it comes out on DVD. And fans of Griffin films are bound to enjoy a particular cameo that I am sworn to secrecy about. While I’m at it, be sure to watch after the credits.

Compared to most films that deal with the male-on-male milieu, this makes The Rocky Horror Picture Show look like Patton. If it’s not too much of an oxymoron, you might say that this film is a gay comedy that has very broad humor. But you don’t need to be either one to enjoy it, just be glad it’s not in 3D, sit back, and prepare to laugh.