Monday, July 4, 2011

Chronic Guest Review: Justice League Of Pornstar Heroes!

A pornographic feature produced by
Extreme Comixxx
Review by:  Miracle Keith

A while back, I wrote a scathing review of the Smallville: JSA television movie on the WB network. It was poorly written and poorly performed; I remember professing a disbelief at the community theater level acting and the cheap special effects that were on display, and wondering why Warner Brothers didn’t bother to pony up the dough to make this project better so it could become a serious TV movie franchise (or at least a hit TV series).

After subjecting myself to the horrors of The Justice League of Pornstar Heroes double disc DVD, I now issue an unabashed apology to the cast, crew and producers of Smallville: JSA. In fact, I am decidedly sorry that I overlooked the possibility that humanity, art, filmmaking and the medium of CGI could sink even lower than Smallville: JSA. If there is an afterlife, I shall answer to the gods for several crimes, but I shall subsequently curse them for making human beings so flawed, so thoughtless and so eager to turn human flesh into a product that a deeply troubling travesty such as The Justice League of Pornstar Heroes (or, JLPH as it shall forthwith be known) can be

Let’s begin at the beginning, shall we? No, we shan’t!! Let’s begin at the end, because my dear readers should be made aware that the only “entertaining” part of this whole sad, shoddy enterprise is in fact Disc #2, which contains all the “Bonus” features like Behind the Scenes documentary style footage and “interviews” with the cast and crew. Let’s face it folks – the cast and crew of any porn movie is a motley crew of social rejects, runaways, drug addicts and criminals, but seeing a good childhood memory like the Super Friends Saturday Morning Cartoon turned into shit like this can only be made more disappointing by the revelation (which is made patently obvious right away) that its cast
and crew know ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about the heroes they have been cast as.

Let’s start with the worst one, Chanel Preston (her real name, natch) as Wonder Woman: her interview shows her out of costume, bad, pockmarked skin on full display, staring into the camera with the drug-glazed eyes that her therapist sees when she begs him for a refill on her Xanax ‘scrip.

Chanel Preston: “Well, I didn’t do a whole lot of research for the role; I did watch a lot of newsreel footage though and….she doesn’t really have a big personality, but she does look really good, and I thought ‘I can do that’!

Interviewer: “A lot of people are going to be comparing you to Linda Carter; what do you think of that? Who wins in a contest between you and Linda Carter?”

Chanel Preston: “Well, I don’t really know….I hope they choose me!”

Aside from the fact that Linda Carter was a hot little bitch back in the ‘70s (who was cast not for her wooden acting ability but for her mutant ability to give Middle American Dads a boner in an age before the internet and Skinemax movies), there’s really no reason to compare these two titans of thespianic achievement; the Wonder Woman TV show bore almost no resemblance to the comic book heroine and had a vague conceit about celebrating female empowerment in the age where the ERA was a hot-button issue; no matter her lack of acting chops, Linda Carter never bang-blew every male member
of the JLA and set back the feminist movement about 100 years.

Ms. Preston’s “portrayal” is only as artificial as her breasts - which, BTW were disgustingly “enhanced” by a “doctor” (why am I sure there was a coupon/handjob involved in the payment for this surgery) to the point where they DON’T MOVE AT ALL when her body is in motion! WW’s breasts are the reason many a male fanboy like me even give a second look at the character; in Ms. Preston’s case, they are the reason to fast-forward or even skip all the numerous views of said breasticles. Yikes and yucks.

The other interviews include Evan Stone as Batman, who reminded me of that strange guy at the party that never stops talking and yet never says anything of any substance at all. He and Scott Lyons (Robin) both strangely lie about the fact that they “read comics all their lives” even though they don’t really need to posses even the most pedestrian
knowledge about the JLA with a “plot” like the JLPH purports to contain.

These two coked-out, Viagra-ed out freaks are from different age brackets, but both of them are ridiculous in their portrayals; Evan Stone seems to be inexplicably unaware that his Adam West impression is actually a William Shatner impression, even after the one pop-culture savvy person clues him in on this fact in one short sequence of the “Let’s Make a Movie” section of the special features. Scott Lyons has long, greasy hair that comes way down past his collar which he slicks back (to appear more “youthful”? to impersonate Burt Ward?) in his portrayal of the Boy Wonder; and he uses “hilarious” phrases like “Holy Shitstorm, Batman!”.

His hilarious quote from the interview segment:

Scott Lyons: “I’m really excited to be playing this part, especially because I don’t get a lot of chances to showcase my humor in these movies. I get a chance to show that humorous side of me in this one, which is so great.”

There are no intentionally funny lines at all in this horrorshow; least of all from aging skater-punk and (from the looks of him in that Robin costume) 90-pound weakling Scott Lyons.

Apparently, in the “underground” world of porn there is always that agonizing, aching, sleazy need that burbles beneath the cancerous surface of even the most jaded pornographer’s heart to be “accepted” by the Hollywood mainstream. That need may be the explanation behind the producer’s decision to cast two “porn legends” (not “porn stars”, which anyone can become at anytime) as the two major villains in this craptastic feature.

Tom Byron is cast as Lex Luthor, and the all-time winner of the Reason Anti-Semitism is Still Alive and Well in America award, Ron Jeremy, is cast as The Penguin.  Hilariously, a big part of the Behind the Scenes featurette is dedicated to Tom Byron’s decision to shave his head for the role. Shame on you if you thought this was a Meisner method/Stella Adler type move on Byron’s part; it’s not-too-subtly revealed by Byron himself:

Tom Byron: “Because they put the….the bald-thing…whaddya call it? The bald wig (sic) on me and it looked like I had a fucking condom on my head. So, I didn’t wanna look like Zippy the fucking Pinhead so I shaved my head.”

It’s also revealed on Byron’s interview segment that there may have been some additional funds added to Byron’s already enormous fee for the role in order to incentivize his tonsorial tragedy. I guess Tommy was concerned about how he might look to the outside world, where he is a respected member of corporate America, if he shaved his head. How would he pick up women? Hope that extra money was enough to buy your second meth lab, Tommy.

Okay, so let’s now return to the beginning and finish out the rest of this lambasting review. The dreck begins as we open with a shot of all the heroes waiting around a meeting table at the Hall of Justice. Suddenly Aquaman rushes into frame and sits down. The ostensible joke is that Aquaman is late all the time, to which The Flash quips “I’m always on time”.

That witty retort sets in stone the leitmotif for the quality of humor and performance for the rest of the movie. The “plot” is hilariously given its exposition by Rocco Reed as Superman:

Rocco Reed: “Super Friends, I have learned of a sinister plot: somebody out there has a Weather Bomb. If it’s set off, it will cause an atomic explosion that will destroy all of Porntropolis and possibly the world. We must find the bomb and defuse it.”

Just a couple questions, Superdope – 1) if it’s a Weather Bomb, why wouldn’t somebody use it to control the FUCKING WEATHER? Why bother with an atomic explosion when you can stay alive and use it to…I don’t know…CONTROL THE FUCKING WEATHER?!? And 2) are we really worried about destroying a city called “Porntropolis”? It sounds to me like if there ever was a city that maybe needed to be
mowed down, renamed and erased from memory/existence, Porntropolis is almost sure to be number one on said list.

All logic aside, the plot progresses like this: each hero goes to the “hideout” of a
different super-villain and asks them “Where’s the Bomb?”, they have sex, and then the next scene begins. BTW, all these hideouts look like cheaply rented soundstages with high-school quality set design thrown onto them. One soundstage has a dirty curtain for walls, some hay on the floor (is this for comfort, or are the porn stars in this film part equine?) and an obviously plastic jail cell for holding Batman & Robin prisoner (Catwoman gets DP-ed by the Dynamic Dorks, then drugs them with sleeping

At the conclusion to the film, the bomb is found, defused and then Wonder Woman blow-
bangs all the male heroes. After the last wad of ball-butter is thrown into WW’s face, a hologram of Lex Luthor appears to tell the heroes that they have defused a fake bomb and the real bomb is still very much active, and is surrounded by Kryptonite so that Superman cannot defuse it on his own.

Leaving open a sequel is also a sad, but strangely appropriate nod to the mainstream Hollywood superhero films that we are subjected to every year. Congrats to porn valley on getting that formula down cold. I’d also like to especially note that the sex in JLPH is egregiously awful; the editing is especially jarring, and my guess is that the director didn’t want to leave in the footage of the porn actors struggling to find a hole or take off the “expensive” costumes in order to unleash their freakishly large cocks or give access to their well-traveled gravel road of a pussy.

Each actor has their own bad skin covered with loads of body makeup, making their flesh look almost as plastic as their boots and gloves. Watching shitty actors in superhero costumes have wooden, mechanical sex is only as depressing as watching the sorry special effects that were thrown together for this craptacular affair.

The CGI for Green Lantern’s power ring is laughably awful, and there’s one scene of The Flash rushing around at top speed and punching several Luchadore-masked henchman in the face; the fight seems to go on for about three minutes, which is about 2 ½ minutes too long for the Fastest Man Alive to have to keep punching a bunch of fat henchmen
in the face to take them out of commission.

The Hedgehog
There is a cheap green-screen segment that seems totally apropos of nothing featuring a short monologue by Ron Jeremy as The Penguin (mercifully, Jeremy keeps all his clothes on), which seems to be at least partially inspired by the Tim Burton Batman Returns
film but adds nothing to the plot.

Wonder Woman repels bullets with her bracelets, then uses her lasso to become the dominant sex partner in their scene. Any “truth” she may have gleaned from him is
irrelevant and wholly unnecessary in the seedy, lazy, uninspired world they have created with this pile of turds. This one is strictly for undiscerning pervs and lazy bachelor party planners – glad you spent your cash on this and not on that silly charity for the homeless? Me too!

- Miracle Keith

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