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Detention
Rascal Video/Channel 1 Releasing. © 2003. Directed by Chi Chi LaRue. Screenplay by Chris Steel. Camera by Hue Wilde. Edited by Scott Coblio. Music by J. D Slater. Starring: Matt Summers, D.C. Chandler, Filippo Romano, Joe Foster, Carlo Cox, Kyle Kennedy, Tag Adams, Chad Hunt, Rob Kirk, Zak Edwards, Andy Hunter, Matt Majors, Johnny Hazzard, Mike Johnson, Jack Hammer and Logan Reed. (Condoms used for all penetrations.) As Reviewed by: Issue #01 - January 1, 2004 |
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A superstar in waiting, Matt Summers -- who's never met a cock he didn't like or couldn't swallow whole -- is back in Chi Chi LaRue's latest, Detention, a sort-of-sequel to their last year's hit, Oral Exams. Arguably the most skillful deep-throat artist in the entire history of adult films, the remarkable Mr. Summers is also a terrific fuck, and his two full-on scenes (the opener and the closer) are the high points of this production. He is the primary -- but not the only -- reason to see this down-and-dirty epic. Detention finds LaRue's erotic imagination at its raunchiest, and for viewers who salivate over sexplay that is degrading and humiliating, this five-episode walk on the wild side should rank right up there (or down there) with the legendary director's blockbuster Link series. And for kink aficionados, we urge you to be sure and get the two-and-a-half-hour Director's Cut, which includes some of the trashiest water sports footage ever put to film. With piss or without, however, power and punishment are explored in each explicit scene by an impressive horde of sex hogs -- all of whom seem to revel in grungy rutting at its nastiest -- but none more so than the untrammeled Mr. Summers. Like Oral Exams, Detention is set in some generic institution (a high school? a college? a reformatory?) where Summers is promptly called on the carpet by some equally generic authority figure (D.C. Chandler). Blessed with a full head of ebony hair, long lashes and sideburns, a sultry five o'clock shadow,and a tongue that vibrates like an adder on speed, Summers (as always) quickly reveals his courtesan mindset, eagerly pleasuring Chandler's hefty rod with every trick he knows. Foremost among these is his ability to down a cock to its pubes with less effort than its takes most men to drop an aspirin. He is also a voracious ball-sucker and ass-eater, burying his tongue in Chandler's asshole while snorting like a wild boar in a forest of truffles. And when he demands to be fucked, you know he means it. (Chandler obliges him in several positions.) Best of all, though, is his orgasm, which is practically an apocalyptic event every time. Frenetic vibrations surge into contortions that seem to detonate his very being and that linger in a series of near-endless after-spasms you won't forget. Rarely have we seen anyone so consumed by his own ejaculation. The second scene opens with blond cutie Kyle Kennedy writing on a blackboard, "I will not make fart noises in class." Here the authority figures are Joe Foster, Filippo Romano and Carlo Cox, and when Kennedy responds to them with another loud raspberry, he promptly finds himself brought roughly to his knees to suck Foster. The premise of the scene goes out at the window almost at once, for each of the three is as intent upon ravishing the others as upon punishing Kennedy -- and what remains is a rough-and-tumble sex scene performed by four ultra-pro porn stars. Highlights of the scene include: Kennedy, a glazed smile of delight on his face as he kneels to service each of the others; Romano's lengthy, spit-soaked session at Cox's ass-trough (in which he practically chews the hairs out of it); Foster gnawing Kennedy's erection out of his briefs and attempting to suck it while fucking him missionary; and the conclusion in which the three older men spray their loads all over the manic countenance of bad boy Kennedy. The next episode will have golden showers devotees singin' in the rain, but there is plenty of less outre sex play in the scene to keep other viewers happy, too. In it, veteran Chad Hunt plays a janitor who finds a dirty magazine in the locker of compact little Tag Adams and invites the kid to his "pussy museum" to look at his own treasure trove of smut. Adams gets more than he'd expected but not more than he can handle. Hunt whips out his elephant dick, kneels to lap at his guest's perky bubblebutt and then stands to lube the puckering hole with a stream of piss. Before this part of the foreplay is over, he has anointed both Adams' front and back sides (and willing face), Adams has pissed his pants (an ineffable image), and they have sprayed golden fountains all over each other. Then they get down to the sucking and fucking. After trading spit-kisses, the kid kneels to service Hunt's monster and is able to take a surprising amount of it down his throat. But it is not long before he is begging his host to "use my hole, man." Hunt stuffs four fingers in the pulsating sphincter before plowing him in several positions. The best of these is the lap-fuck in which the diminutive Adams nearly makes Hunt's cudgel disappear inside him. There are also some games with a broomstick before both explode. The next scene, featuring the crewcut Rob Kirk and the goateed Zak Edwards (who sports a Prince Albert and an extravagant sash-like tattoo around his torso), covers much the same ground as the preceding one, but the performers are not as interesting and the water sports not as inventive. They do play some games with a dildo between sucking and fucking, but the results are a pallid rerun of the Hunt-Adams championship bout. The lengthy finale, a 10-man orgy in the detention hall, parallels the finale of Oral Exams -- only here the action is not limited to cocksucking. This is one of LaRue's most explosive group scenes ever, but he wisely realizes that despite the excellent ensemble action, the scene is fueled by Mr. Summers, and the camera never strays far from him. The deep-throat action he provides (to nearly everyone in the place) begins with the multitattooed Johnny Hazzard and the lanky, motor-mouthed Andy Hunter, then moves on to include veteran Matt Majors, newcomer Jack Hammer and, ultimately, big-dicked Hunt himself. This reviewer cannot recall ever having seen anyone completely swallow Hunt -- and to make the point, LaRue has everyone try -- but only Summers buries it so deep in his gullet that his lips kiss Hunt's pubic hair. It is a unique feat he repeats several times during the course of the scene. In what is now becoming his trademark position, Summers then lies flat on a desk, his head hanging over its edge, to be face-fucked by everyone. In time, he shifts to be ass-fucked by each of them as well and eventually takes a faceful of cum from one and all. His pleasure in being used is palpable throughout, but it is his convulsive climax -- something between an epileptic seizure and electric shock treatment -- that leaves no doubt who is the star of this film. He and LaRue are a match made in pig-out heaven. |
- Jerry Douglas |
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| Video courtesy of Rascal Video/Channel 1 Releasings, 8721 Santa Monica Blvd. Suite 525; Los Angeles, CA 90069; 800-997-9071; www.Channel1Releasing.com |
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