Paul Thomas presents a landmark film in which the devil gets his due, and the angel on your shoulder is a superstar named Dasha. Sound like Heaven? We thought so too…
If you love Dasha or a plot with your porn, this movie is for you. — Critical Rating: AAAA (AVN)
Begins with a bang, as Randy Spears speeds his car through nighttime streets, screaming. Fade to white, and credits. Spears is a film actor — a big one, in the $20 million-a-picture range — whose agent (Frank Bukkwyd) can’t get him a particular part even though the movie was”made for him” The director wants Jack Russell. Spears explodes, calling the other actor a no-talent and saying,”‘ll kill him before let him take my movie”
“Tell me you’re kidding” Bukkwyd responds.
Cut to a TV screen with a reporter saying that Jack Russell has been found dead in a Hollywood motel room of a drug overdose as Spears impassively watches, before unimpassively fucking a girl who drops by. After Russel’s funeral, Spears walks off with Rene LaRue, who fucks him in the cemetery. Turns out she’s Bukkwy’s wife.
“I’m not the end of the world,” Spears says.
“Yes, it is,” Bukkwyd tells him.
Spears takes off in his boat, the Heave’s Revenge. That night, during a thunderstorm, he is awakened by the rolling of the boat. Naked, he shakes his fist at the black sky, howling, “You’ll need more than that to kill me”
After a collage of images (was he struck by lightning?), we flashback to 20 years earlier, with Chris Cannon as a struggling actor getting encouraged by Dasha, before Spears wakes up, in a bed, getting attended to by Melissa Hill. Looks like Spears has fallen into a play involving Don Juan, with Hill a character. (When she hesitates, Spears prompts her on a line.) For a reluctant virgin, Hill throws Spears quite the fuck. Enter Hil’s fiance, Mike Horner, justifiably pissed. Enter Spear’s dagger into Horne’s heart.
Jump-cut back to the present, with Spears meeting up with an old acting colleague, and free-associating to the point that he scares the guy off. More coincidences occur, to the point that Spears thinks that his entire life, past and present, is mirroring the play. This series of coincidences and flashbacks build to a series of dramatic climaxes that lead to the devastating end. Or beginning.
Pre-noms to PT for his deft direction, David Stanley for his erudite script, Randy Spears for his letter-perfect performance, Best Film, Best Cinematography for Ralph Parfait, Best Editing for Tommy Ganz, special effects for Ganz and Sonny Malone, and hearty congratulations to Miles Long for sound design, for which there is no AVN Awards category, mor’s the pity.
