C.B.T.L.
It’s the summer of 1992 and both Encino Man and A League of Their Own are playing on the big screen. This is a good thing for Mr. Pike (Bill Phillips) as it means he has two PG movies to place on the marquee for families to enjoy. Anything raunchier or more risqué than that might prove difficult for a god-fearing man such as him—a local figure who preaches the word of the Lord to the Christian teens for whom he provides a place to work, pray, and confide in Jesus whenever Satan leads them astray. The theater therefore supplies routine and discipline as much as it does an escape from temptation. Mr. Pike serves as a stand-up mentor ensuring nobody loses his/her place within the flock.
And because his young employees worked their butts off all week, he’s decided to let them continue a tradition of Friday Night Movie Club wherein they’re allowed to stay after close to watch a title of their choosing for free. What he doesn’t know upon leaving his new assistant manager Chaz (Jillian Mueller) in charge, however, is that there’s one more 35mm canister besides the ones housing Brendan Fraser and Madonna’s latest endeavors. In the kids’ defense: they didn’t know it existed either. But how could they not get excited about the prospect of a mystery reel discovered in a seedy basement area nobody knew about until a crazed homeless man (Peter Reznikoff) burst through its boarded up doorway? The allure of uncertainty was too much to bear.
As the title of Keola Racela‘s feature debut Porno reveals, the abandoned celluloid possesses content well beyond the limits of what Mr. Pike would ever let grace his screens. It’s so luridly sexualized that Abe (Evan Daves) and Ricky (Glenn Stott) feel weird enough to side with “Heavy Metal” Jeff’s (Robbie Tann) straight-edged projectionist when he shuts it off at the first sign of breasts. But while they argue about ending this latest adventure on what’s become a wildly unpredictable night, Todd (Larry Saperstein) embraces his animal instincts to lock himself in the projection booth and make it so they watch the sordid affair to its end. Cue the blood, daggers, and ancient symbols necessary to conjure a formidable succubus (Katelyn Pearce) and watch these teens’ piety explode.
Screenwriters Matt Black and Laurence Vannicelli conjured this fun conceit to play with both comedy and horror thanks to the characters at their disposal. Because despite them all being teenagers and obviously horny as a result, their affinity for God keeps things unnaturally sanitized considering the subject matter. Racela literally begins the film with a shot of two adults having sex before making way towards the aforementioned reel of art-house anatomy bathed in crimson, but his cast doesn’t swear. These kids aren’t faking their faith—they’re simply trying to reconcile it against their sexual urges. So there’s a lot of staring before God whispers in their ears to wake-up and denounce what their eyes have seen. Jeff alone says “Cheese and Rice” instead of “Jesus Christ” and “Knuckleheads.”
It’s an effective juxtaposition that appears to be setting the stage for what to expect considering it provides the majority of the entertainment value during the runtime’s first two-thirds. After awhile you resign yourself to the fact that thrusting these Bible-lovers into an environment of ritual sacrifice is the entire point behind Porno. The result can be slow and somewhat repetitive, but the endearing performances and absurd reactions are enough to sustain investment. That the final third is eventually revealed as a kitchen sink scenario where Racela and company toss aside decorum for graphic physical abuse, demonic possession, parallel dimensions, and a long-awaited f-bomb does therefore prove jarring. A gradual build-up would have been nice, but I’m not going to say the increased insanity wasn’t a pleasant surprise.
This is where the cast can really let loose as Ricky loses his cool, Jeff wrestles with the power of Christianity turning his life around only to become exposed to the evening’s nihilistic chaos, and Todd is fully removed from his shell. The filmmakers do a great job utilizing them too by mixing in a number of sight gags and 180-degree record scratches to augment their personality clashes against the unfolding events. Unlike your usual slasher picture, they’re not all on a conveyor belt necessitating that they die one at a time. Pearce’s succubus isn’t interested in killing them when she can have as much fun playing with them as Racela. The goal isn’t to wreak havoc as much as imagine how these god-fearing kids respond.
Do they run away screaming? Do they stand their ground and help each other out? Do they lose faith completely? The potential questions are many and I do wish Black and Vannicelli spent more time fleshing them out beyond their use as set-ups to jokes, but I get that doing so would create an entirely different film. Rather than be interested in dissecting its genres, it seeks to utilize those tropes to its advantage. Give them credit because it works on that level. It embraces its ability to earn laughs without worrying about explanations, loose ends, or deeper meanings. The craftsmanship of its horror is impeccable thanks to practical effects and stellar production design, but the scares themselves are relegated as punch lines. And that’s okay.
photography:
courtesy of Fangoria