Pond Scum (The New Trailer)

POND SCUM (pre-release trailer) from CineNature on Vimeo.


POND SCUM is approaching the finish line.

A dedicated cast and crew (Renae Boult, Ward Boult, Dawna Lee Heising, Vida Gaffari, Paul Fanning, Marc Edward Heuck, Jacqui Fanning)  have made this bastard of a project possible.

I appreciate the unreasonable level of commitment from all.

POND SCUM is what I'd loosely call ero-horror, its emphasis being on sociopaths and the consequences of their pursuits. Some of those pursuits are darkly erotic, others are completely insane ventures into places no man or woman should go -- not if they expect to return unscathed.

The film is dedicated to my dear Japanese friend and fellow filmmaker Tomoaki Hosoyama, whose influence and friendship have been priceless and unique.

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I love that this '72 line-up from the Hoyts chain is described as "Holiday Films For All The Family".

How far we've fallen in forty years!

Can you imagine families today finding something of interest amongst this lot? No toy-inspired banality? Nothing from Disney? If only families today would attend films like Trinity Is Still My Name, Pulp, or Richard Brooks' '66  The Professionals, clearly getting a re-release here.

I somehow convinced my late dad to take me to see Pulp and The Mechanic on the same day. That was unheard of. Perhaps dad wanted some time away from mum.  I remember enjoying both immensely, and I recall dad speaking about Bronson in a reverential tone.

 

'72 sure was a good year for the cinema... and the drive-ins.

Hard to believe that Peter Medak's wonderful black comedy played at drive-ins in Melbourne.

It took some balls, but I convinced my mother to take me to see the film on a school night. We even stayed  for Baby Love, my first exposure to the delicious Linda Hayden.

In retrospect, it was Ken Loach with breasts and lesbians.

During the scenes that featured some mild nudity, my mother kept repeating "I don't think we need to see this" while playing with the car keys. I differed on her statement, and was sure I needed to see what I was seeing.

Fortunately, we remained until the climax.

I'd see Hayden a couple of years later when Satan's Skin (aka Blood on Satan's Claw) screened on TV. I recorded it on audio tape and listened often to the great score.

 

 

I never caught this one at the East End Two, but I always remember my parents coming home late after seeing it and me asking them what it was about.

My mum's answer: "It was a bit stupid really."

My dad's: "It was alright. Lots to see."

Indeed.

At least there was one Pasolini fan in the house.

Pulpy Porn Is Erect Again

In John McNaughton's superb Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer, the titular anti-hero works part time as an exterminator. In one scene, he meets with his boss, an oily individual, and is told that work has dropped off due to the sluggish economy. When Henry makes a gesture to return his trusty spray can and pump, the boss tells him to keep it, not too concerned.

The cover of the lewdly titled 'Sharon's Slavery Sessions' (above) depicts Henry's oily boss (far right in sunglasses) in a sexually appropriate situation (approproate for him!) far removed from the bug spraying business.  He appears to be having a good time and seems unconcerned by his flagging fortunes.

Take another look at the film if you doubt my observation. It's Mr. Oily for sure.  Perhaps he took his eye off the bug business when slave training caught his interest.   Can you blame him?

As a card-carrying island lover, I'm quite partial to this scenario from the infamous 'Captive Women' series. The fella in the flannelette shirt appears to be the patient type and is quite alright about waiting for his turn. 

If someone can send the co-ordinates of Lust Island, I'd be mighty appreciative. A Google Earth link would be fine, too. 

 

Not only is the lady a 'tormented teaser', but she's an 'All American Tormented Teaser'. I'm not sure what difference it makes, but American culture has a strange obsession with placing the word 'American' before everything from pimps (American Pimp) to psychos (American Psycho) to werewolves (An American Werewolf in London).

Mr. Red Jacket (previously known as 'Peter Perfect') is one eager beaver, and he's combed his hair just right. The bloke in the middle is a little overdressed for the occasion, although he'll certainly keep warm once the Winter winds start beating the walls of the cabin. The punter on the right must have drawn the short straw because he's copped shibari duty.