First Impressions:
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It has become readily apparent, in the Dirge's years as a critic, that there are two categories of filmmaking that throw the cinematically unprepared for a pure creative loop. One such genre is horror. Fear is a very personal process, something that is hard to capture in a universal or a singular mannerism. To be successful, one has to walk a very thin line between the creative and the crass, hoping that the end result tingles someone's suggestible spine. The other filmic facet that's hard to render well is hardcore pornography. With multiple fetishes, an overdose of product, and a relaxed aesthetic towards what is and is not sexy, your modern adult production hopes to get by on bland, nameless performers and quantity over quality to sell its suck and fuck. Separately, each style has so many possible pitfalls that the crap outweighs the classic by a good 20 to 1. Imagine, then, the unfortunate filmmaking fool who tries to combine both. They are either going to make the best combination of balling and boo ever, or the most miserable mess ever to stain both the paranormal and the porking.
Thus is the case with the incredibly awful Blood Lake. In the history of really bad ideas, along with giving Jessica Simpson a starring role in anything, and creating an amusement park loaded with cloned dinosaurs, C.L. Murphy's misguided attempt to make a good old fashioned fright flick with fornication is perhaps the absolute worst. While it does try to delve into the alt-porn realm popular among today's non-discriminating X Gen crowd, what we have here is nothing more than a classic clothesline narrative speckled with horribly uninspired spook show nonsense. The main plot involves a mysterious book, an otherworldly preacher, and a bunch of horny houseguests satisfying their internal urges while on a trip in the woods, and this would seem like a winning combination. The idea of mixing the slasher genre with the cunt and cock concepts of smut actually plays perfectly into the way in which '80s horror films formulated their fright. But Murphy is such a bad director, and his movie is so poorly executed, that we end up with something that feels half completed, over edited and devoid of anything that makes terror and twat the least bit interesting.
The Sex Scenes:
Obviously a problematic production, the barely 79 minute Blood Lake boasts a meager set of four sex scenes, each one more pathetic than the next. Two of them star the malleable meat puppet Johnny Depth, and if there were ever a rod ranger in need of a triple dose of Levitra, it would be this tedious taffy master. Nothing is more non-erotic than seeing a supposed professional barely able to maintain an erection. Mr. Depth gets blown by both Tasha Todd and Sandy Simmers and each time, his cock is like an uncooked Ball Park frank. And since Murphy makes it a point of showing the action in extreme close-up, that wobbly wiener gets a great deal of screen time. In truth, the limited lewdness on display has more problems than just limp pricks. The best scene in the set, Scene 1, finds India and Dick doing it, and their initial foreplay and oral is interesting. But the minute we get to the fucking, the editing becomes erratic and soon we are randomly shifting from position to position without any real rhyme or reason. One moment, Mr. Chibbles is dropping the dog on Ms. Summer, the next he's got her in a really uncomfortable scissors mode. Scene 4 is even more basic. Bobby Banger gives his female fuck stick CJ a quickie trifecta of Mish, Cowgirl and Doggy before popping on his own stomach (!?!?).
The middle moments are the most distressing, however. Tasha Todd obviously doesn't like working with Mr. Depth, since the moment he enters her orifices, she gets a determined shit face demeanor. It's the most obvious when Johnny's about to deliver his mediocre money moment. Cock crammed as close to Tasha's eyes as possible, our actress winces in obvious disgust as her paramour bathes her in ball broth. Sandy Simmers, on the other hand, arrives out of nowhere (the characterization here is SO bad that we never get a real handle on who is part of this trip and why they are even there in the first place) and does a few penis in pussy moves – mish, both cowgirls, doggy – before taking a him hit on the tits. She gets into her scene and tries to put on the porn, but this highlights another issue with the film. Murphy apparently had problems recording the soundtrack here, and went back in and redubbed EVERYTHING – INCLUDING THE SEX. Now nothing suggests old school smut better than fake fuck noises that don't match the mouth movements of the actors participating. Every thrust produces an overdone response; every suck results in a sonic boom slurp. Now, this may have been done to turn what is obviously a terrible terror title with equally uninspired hardcore into some kind of comedy, but the result is just repugnant. No sequence here provides the necessary arousal to get your groin girded. As both fear and fucking, Blood Lake is undeniably dreadful.
Disco Dirge Peter Meter Rating: .5 out of 5 (SKIP IT)
Cohabitation Certification: Granted
The Dirge has been known in the past to dump all over those adult filmmakers who try to push the limits of genre acceptability when it comes to XXX material. He hated on Squealer, Jack The Zipper's homage to all things Chain Saw, and doesn't find the mingling of sex and the sinister to be all that appealing. But Blood Lake's failures are not derived from any personal bias or preconceived notions. Instead, they are directly tied to the terrible, amateurish filmmaking present and the total lack of erotic chemistry between the performers. Couples won't mind the middling action here, but the boring storyline and lack of significant scares will try even the most rock solid relationship. Unless you want to experience the worst that XXX has to offer, the only recommendation this critic can give Blood Lake is a Skip It. This is one of the worst hardcore releases in recent years.
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