"Proof the criminally insane could be leading productive lives as directors."
I’m always complaining about how softcore films miss an important element when they stock their casts with bad actors and don’t bother putting together a meaningful script. This film is a great example of how I’m totally full of shit when I make that argument. This flick tries very hard to be meaningful and important and artistic, but it all ends up looking as artistic as a crackwhore playing a grand piano.Mihaella Stoicov stars as a whore in an old brothel who falls for a john (Douglass DeMarco). While Stoicov spends the film essentially naked and getting rear-end invaded by DeMarco, she interrupts such scenes only to lie back on the bed and look wistfully into the distance. Meanwhile, DeMarco, for all his fine doggy-style work, does much the same, staring at the ceiling as if there was an adult-sized mobile hanging from the rafters. “Oooh, pretty!”
This is all supposed to impress upon us how artistic and erotic things are, but in actual fact things are closer to autistic and neurotic. A sub-story where this entire tale is retold by softcore veteran Gwen Somers to a documentary filmmaker serves as absolutely no purpose other than to stretch a twenty-minute story into ninety minutes, and director Tom Boka’s appearance as himself is perhaps the worst cameo appearance in movie history. People with hockey hair this bad need to be interned in a Czech Mullet Camp.
But the most ridiculous aspect of an already totally ridiculous movie though must be the terrible dubbing. I dunno, maybe these folks were talking Latvian in the original production, and if that’s the case then I take it all back – it’s the best Latvian softcore film since “Oops, My Donkey Farted.” But failing that, the dubbing is just really lazy filmmaking.
If softcore films with no sex and no dialogue and nobody actually even moving for seemingly minutes at a time entertain you, then Anthony’s Desire could well be the sort of film that you’d like to own. And an M-16 is probably the kind of gun you’d like to own… and you probably spend much time in bell-towers, scoping out the little black dots below, masturbating furiously as you yell “NO WIRE HANGERS!”.Dude, seriously, pretentious garbage. Don’t bother.