adventures of a (not too) private dick.

Spent the last few weeks drawing gothic Victoriana and mixing visuals for a brand new Scots Pop music night Simply Thrilled so thought I'd take a break with a wee movie and long-term reader Mr. Ken Korda from Hackney recommended this 'dark and deadly' thriller.

True there was a big lady bottom on the cover but that didn't mean that the whole gumshoe shtick was just a cover for some sweaty rutting did it?

Will I ever learn?

Asian Noir No.6: Evil Sex Trap (2008).
Dir: David Aaron Clark
Cast: Ange Venus, Mr. Marcus, Coco Velvett, Destiny, Lana Violet, Myla Montez and Dick James.

Hard boiled (and shiny dome headed) LAPD detective Terrence Trent (the smooth sex superstar Mr. Marcus from The World's Luckiest Black Man and your Auntie Joan's bed) wakes up one evening to find himself face down of the floor of a deserted room in the wrong part of town and suffering from a really bad case of amnesia.

Tho' not I hasten to add crabs, which in his line of work should be a given.

Clad in his best Billy Dee Williams suit and with only his toy police badge and big silver gun for company, our sexy Tec is desperate to find out what has happened and why he's there.

Oh and when he can start shagging a few fit (and clean) ladies.

Suddenly his mobile phone begins to ring and, on answering our hero is bombarded with the drunken ramblings of the infamous Lady Wu herself (the flat faced, skinny arsed porn goddess that is Ange Venus from My Mom's First Black Cock and Mini-Van Moms 2), who promises to reveal to Trent but only if he makes his way to her thoroughly evil sex trap warehouse cum knocking shop (fantastically played by the directors mum's condo in north Hollywood).

His curiosity aroused, Trent has no choice but to obey.

"Excuse me...is this the way to the mooth shite-in suite?"

Arriving by taxi (via a sexy voiceover) at the aforementioned evil sex trap type place, Trent soon realises that things aren't quiet what he expected.

For one thing it's not him indulging in some of the sex with an evil looking undead Asian babe (You're On Trial singer Dick James - possibly -  and My Daughter's Fucking Blackzilla! star Lana Violet) on a nice MFI leather sofa but a strap-on wielding masked lady instead.

Oh how they tease us.

Under the pretense of being a good detective (and not you understand because he fancies a cheap thrill) he sits back and watches the show, until that is things start to get a wee bit ugly and Trent feels he has to step in.

Which is a bad move if you think about it as the whole messy (in both senses of the word) situation ends up with the strap-on lass vanishing into thin air and Dick murdered - to death - by Trent's own hand.

How's he gonna explain that to his nan?

"You're on Trial" which is sex industry slang for you're on my massive black cock bitch! obviously.

Cradling Dick's stiff in his arms Trent begins to experience erotically fueled (and tit filled) sweaty flashbacks to, um stuff that maybe important later.

Or may just be flashy porn scenes for those who get off on such stuff.

Either way it's nicely lit.

Moving deeper and deeper into the evil sex trap warehouse (yes I know it's a mouthful), Marcus comes across (literally) loads more sexual encounter between various big black blokes and a number of fairly tiny tattooed Asian babes occasionally interrupted by even more of Lady Wu's drunken ramblings.

Imagine a twelve tissue version of Lost Highway with a cast constructed entirely of silicone and you're halfway there.

Still intrigued as to why he's there (and no doubt enjoying the sight of so many jiggly jubbly jugs) our sun-kissed sex machine finds Wu's saucy suspender clad secretary Lana (fresh faced and smooth arsed Velvett from Hit Me with Your Best Squirt) bending over a filing cabinet at the end of a long hallway.

Coco Velvett: Just add water.

Deciding to fill in Trent (and us) on what the fuck is going on, Lana explains that the building is home to not only a classy brothel but also an Import/Export business and a porn studio based in the cellar.

Which is nice.

Obviously keen on seeing a few more spunk covered arses, Trent heads to the lift double quick his manly hand clutched tightly around his massive weapon just in case of trouble.

And trouble he finds, in the yumsome form of the mysterious Bella Emberg (Mini minx Montez fresh from Black Dick Too Boo-Coo 4), who frankly makes no effort at all to seduce our police pimpmiester, she basically just flashes her arse and our hero does the rest.

The Wanko novelty sofa cushion...available now!

Whilst all this bum humping is going down Lana has fallen asleep whilst going (as opposed to coming) over the clients figures and is currently having a fairly erotic cum scary dream about Trent and his weapon to a sexy sax solo.

Trust me, you can almost taste the Brut aftershave.

Finishing up by romantically wiping his cock on the curtains, Trent fails to notice that Bella has wandered off (probably to clean herself up before she starts sticking to things) but being a detective, the Trent-inator follows her snail-like trail upstairs where he's shocked (and let's admit it, if he's anything like my mum slightly aroused) to find Lana being chocked/bummed to death by a mask wearing, strap on thrusting succubus (Destiny in her motion picture debut).

"I can see your house from here Peter".

Starting to lose his cool due to all the shagging and eighties style pop vid' lighting, Trent just stands there looking bald (but still sexy as fuck) in the vain hope that someone (anyone) will explain the plot to him.

Luckily Lady Wu finally makes an appearance, floating into the room on a cloud of poppers and shame to inform Trent (after having sex with him of course) that he once committed a bad murder and that the masked strap-on succubus, Bella and Lana aren't really harsh faced porn stars but are, in fact, an trio of evil and fairly vengeful spirits hellbent on punishing Trent for his various misdemeanour's.

And yes that does include messing up the curtains.

With his memories now restored (and his huge uncircumcised penis cocked and ready) Trent realises the true nature of the evil sex trap....

but is it too late to save his (arse) soul?

Mr. Marcus: he's shagging your mum.

From the slightly Asian babe obsessed mind of the late, great David Aaron Clark comes (literally) this bizarro mix of softly lit porn, Outer Limits homage's and kinky hair whipping that would shame even the legendary Joe D'Amato and his back catalogue of horror/porn crossovers.


And probably make him green with envy at the fact that Clark could get so many fairly attractive actresses for so little money whilst he was stuck with George Eastman in a vest.

Eastman: Sweaty sac.

Coming across like a buffer, less hairy version of Richard Roundtree mixed with the sheer animalistic rutting power of Bobby Blake, Mr. Marcus (real name: Marcus Frank Spencer) gives a fairly competent performance as an amnesiac copper with a constant hard-on, spending as he does the majority of the movie wandering through a spooky building and occasionally having sex with a number of Botoxed babes.

His real talent tho' lies in the sheer number of radically different cum faces he manages to pull during his many climaxes. Each one as different as they are strangely attractive.

I for one could happily watch him rutting my mum for hours just to gaze on his furrowed brow as he expels his mighty man-muck into her every orifice.

On a downside some of the make-up FX are frankly shite and most of the editing (credited to one Hasiell Damnett who I'm fairly sure isn't using his real name) looks like it was done using scissors and glue by a boss eyed hook handed toddler, but I can probably say that most viewers will be more interested in counting Ange Venus' ribs that checking out the continuity.

Except that is for the scene where Destiny's sex-mad, strap-on wearing succubus is killing Lana that is.

I for one was shocked to see the bastard had completely ruined the scene by shoddily intercuting it with footage of (gasp) some common or garden conventional sex therefore destroying the illusion of any supernatural occurrences at all.

Big thumbs down (and one right up the shitter) to the director for allowing this to happen.

But saying that he's dead now so I reckon one of my digits up his arse is the least of his worries.