Reviewed by Don Luis
This month was full of no end of surprises, and Insexts was a close second only because I watched Slave Dolls 2 first. The concept behind this Mondo Insecti is one I’m still pondering over, much the same way Michael Douglas’ The Game made me suspicious of anyone attempting to hand me a key. What I can tell you is that if David Lynch were suddenly to become a porn auteur, and exchange his penchant for stark, contrasty, hues and tones for brilliant pastels and shimmering butterfly wings, this current production would be the logical result. Though the visual imagery and efficacy of the costumery is phenomenal, the scenes themselves tumble out in no specific order, their connection to some sort of story line is abstract at best, and as a result of the elaborate headgear makes identification of the performers at times difficult. Thank goodness for recognizable tattoos.
Gina Mond’s yellow and black stripes are so firmly pressed against her, you’ll think that they were painted on, and her costume will make you want to follow her agitations all the way back to the honeycomb. Alexis Amore as the gold-bodied dragonfly will force you to believe, as were likely the cause of so many myths in ancient times, that these winged beauties are actually faerie folk. Of course, these queens of their species would be lax if not to be in constant search of viable donors for the fertilization of their brood. Enter Jean Val Jean, Grant Michaels, and Nick Manning, all of whom appear appropriately clad in multifaceted eyes and membraneous wings to answer the figurative question: “How’s your stinger?”
Being an avid cyclist, Tory Lane’s amazing scene with some specifically modified riding gear and bicycle seats. The residual image will forever change my sensibility towards the next century ride. Partnered with a similarly clad Jenaveve, both girls alternately work themselves into a sweat, and penetrate themselves purposefully on the strategically placed phalluses, or busy themselves doing both at the same time, pedaling not without a great deal of effort, from a supine position. One can only imagine what sensations they might have experienced.
Not to be left out, McKenzie Rose pops in at the end of the film to rouse purported artist Nick Manning from his sleep of reason, and takes him on a very realistic tour of her most fantastical physique. Rubber and latex fetishists will find this film indispensable, and those apt to flights of fancy will take wing as do the butterflies and their kin, in search of the sweet, sweet nectar that is this current production.
PhilipMond'sInsexts
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