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day - April 10, 2004

First things first -- thereís a new gallery in town Marthaís Girls. The sheer amount of effort it takes to put this site together has me in awe. This faux-retro wonderland has a sweetheart collection of models, a spunky webmistress, and a style all its own. If (like me) everyday porn doesn't do it for you and you like some artistic panache in your eroticism, then this is bound to be the mind candy capital of your world. It's also one of the most reasonably priced member sites on the web. Martha was kind enough to give me a tiny sampling of her wares to post I hope you like them and youíll consider becoming a member if thatís your sort of thing. 

Next things second -- Phone Slut Diary had been featured in another independent publication and I promised to mention it here. Paying For Sex is a fabulous little ďgentlemanís guide to web porn, strip clubs, prostitutes & escorts without humiliation, job loss, bankruptcy, infection, bloodshed or incarceration.Ē Because it does not address phone sex, but refers readers to my site (bless), authors Kerr Fuffle & Roscoe Spanks (it cannot possibly be their real names, can it?) decided to put in a few blurbs about me and some other net sites. 

Although Iím not a guy looking to hire an escort (and donít expect to be) I found many of the details and hints fascinating. The chapters on throwing brothel parties were absorbing. If youíre a gentleman (or not so gentle man) that spends money on websites, strippers, or other such diversions this is a really handy little manual to getting the biggest bang for your buck without getting ripped off or in trouble. They explain etiquette, precautions, approximate pricing, common (and not so common) practices. Want to find out how to encourage a stripper to give you a little better than the regular treatment? Itís in there. 

So, Iím going to be adding it to my Store shopping section because itís just awesome. And Iím quoted in very cute passages. And, you know, Iím an egomaniacal slut. No, really. Okay, well sometimes.

Last things last -- Iíve seen a new movie and I canít get it out of my mind, so Iím going to blog about it.

For my birthday (April 13th and YES I am the quintessential Aries, thank you), one of my thoughtful, loyal readers bought me Irreversible off my Amazon Wish List. It was a movie I was eager to see for the following reasons:

1. Monica Bellucci is the most lickable woman in the world to me right now. Yes, okay, Iíve had a crush on her since The Apartment, but itís becoming a Dita-worthy ďI want to suck on her nowĒ thing.

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Monica Bellucci - click to enlarge Monica Bellucci - click to enlarge Monica Bellucci - click to enlarge

2. It is supposed to have the most intense rape sequence ever portrayed on film.

That was pretty much my motivation. I have a non-consent fetish and a Monica Bellucci jones. I could ramble here about how much I love avant-garde French cinema (which I do) but that would be a mouthful of balls. I wanted to have my kinky fetish fulfilled.

But this is not a kinky fetish fulfillment flick and I seriously caution anyone that thinks it is to pause before seeing the film.

On technical merit, the filmmaking is experimental, confrontational, and excruciating. Itís a special kind of brilliant that comes with a hefty punch in the gut. It has been called the most walked out of film ever. I can understand that.

Anyone wishing to avoid spoilers for this film should stop reading here.

The plot of the film is told in reverse (ala Memento), in a series of what appeared to be one-shot sequences ranging from 10 - 20 minutes each. After checking the IMDBís page about this movie, it turned out that many edits were made digitally and I must say, flawlessly. 

The first 30 minutes or so are the most violent, gritty, brutal, vulgar thirty minutes of film I have ever watched. This makes Trainspotting look like a Disney movie. It is delivered in cruel machine-gun pacing that made me beg for a break in the violent action. I havenít been so shaken since the opening of Saving Private Ryan (a movie that I didnít really care for, but was, nonetheless rattled by). 

Oddly, I was nauseous and had to pause the DVD a few times because I felt dizzy and disoriented. I didnít understand this at first (I grew up in the hack-and-slash horror flicks and "Faces of Death" era). Yes, the opening sequence takes place in a claustrophobic gay S&M club that is more like a Spanish Inquisition dungeon catacomb. Yes, the camera shots are so topsy-turvy that they could have been achieved by strapping the camera to the back of a gymnastic monkey. Yes, the first sequence culminates in the most horrific, brains-splattered-everywhere beating death I have ever seen on film. But, I donít generally get affected by that kind of thing. It is, after all, only a movie.

Then I found this in the trivia section of the Irreversible IMDB trivia page:

"The first 30 minutes of the film has a background noise with a frequency of 28Hz (low frequency, almost inaudible), similar to the noise produced by an earthquake. In humans, it causes nausea, sickness and vertigo. It was the main cause of people walking out of the theaters during the first part of the film in places like Cannes and San Sebastian. In fact, it was added with the purpose of getting this reaction."

Son of a bitch. 

This also made the rape sequence impossible to be titillated by. I have a serious non-consent fetish. But I was so queasy and uneasy that I couldnít enjoy any part of what was happening. And, obviously, that was the directorís point. Youíre *supposed* to feel the gut-churning repulsion of it. Itís supposed to be awful and nothing else, and the filmmaker is going to fuck you up before heís going to let you get off on it. Yeah, you get Monica Bellucci stipped naked and raped in the ass, but youíre not going to like it. Youíre barely going to be able to stomach it. 

I repeat: Son of a bitch.

More shocking, this feeling lasts with you for the rest of the film. Monica is naked for the last, say, 30 minutes of the film (earlier in the day prior to the rape). And at this stage, you feel such an overwhelming sense of awfulness for what will later befall her that you cringe when she kisses her boyfriend. It makes you uncomfortable that they are wrestling in bed and playing together. Itís like shock treatment. You will see Monica Bellucci and you will not like it.

Did I mention Son of a bitch?

So, if you are looking forward to this film for the only reason I was looking forward to it do yourself a favor. BitTorrent or Limewire JUST the rape sequence and get your jollies off first because you wonít be able to enjoy it after.

However, if you have the stomach for it and if you like experimental foreign cinema and you can appreciate the filmmaking outside the limits of the content and the other factors, I highly recommend it. Itís brilliant in a horrendously appalling way. Iíd rent it because itís seriously a one-watch type of flick. And you will be buzzing and talking about it for days. Or, at least, I have been.

But and I cannot stress this enough -- this isnít a film to be entered into lightly. If you even mildly suspect someone might have a violent experience in their past history, this is not the film for them. If you think youíve seen Pulp Fiction and Res Dogs and you can handle bloody Iím telling you that ainít enough. There is bloodbath gun play, and thatís challenging in itself, but Irreversible is violence of the first water. Itís fist-to-face, pummeling,  beat-you-with-a-sledge-hammer-until-you-are-dead carnage piled on top of screaming-bloody-murder anal rape viciousness. And while that is only about 20 minutes of the 99 minute film. Trust me, itís enough to make you forget you ever considered sucking on Monica. 

Itís specifically constructed to make you uncomfortable, to make you physically ill, and to make you feel as out of control and violated as the players on the screen. And it does almost too good a job of it.

Consider yourselves warned.


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