The Principles of Lust (2003) from Johnny Web (Uncle Scoopy; Greg Wroblewski) |
You'll definitely get your daily requirement of raunch here, but good Lord is this one bad movie! A struggling writer finds himself in a dilemma which involves choosing between two new friends. At the same time the writer meets his new love, a sweet, sexy suburban woman with a good job and a young child, he also meets a new friend from the wrong side of the tracks. |
He's in love with the woman, and realizes that she's the greatest thing that's ever happened to him. She even offers to support him so he can work on his novel full time. But the friend represents a range of temptation which the writer has never know before: orgies, gambling, extreme thrills, hard drugs, cockfights in which little boys substitute for the roosters, sexual experimentation. As the movie progresses, the friend keeps stretching the limits of experience farther and farther, becoming increasingly daring and debauched. The writer is seduced by the bloody, lusty, drugged-out world, but is also seduced by the pleasant comfort or a normal, healthy life. He finally determines that the two lives can't co-exist, so he has to make a choice. |
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I have to give the writer/director credit for one thing. All of the wild experiences are portrayed without censorship. The fighters appear bloody and battered. The women spread their legs and open their genitals for the camera. There are various non-simulated sexual acts portrayed on screen in some graphic detail. That frankness, that willingness to portray the friend's world through the writer's eyes without soft-pedaling it in any way, thus allowing the audience to share his shock and arousal, is the film's one saving grace. |
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Apart from that it is a brutally ugly movie with a consistently dark and ugly tone, centered on hateful, unhappy characters in an unpleasant world. I felt like showering when it was over. I hated this raunchy trash, and I like raunchy trash in general, so you can only begin to imagine how much you'll hate it. |
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