Michael Ninn’s “Sacred Sin”

Studio: Ninn Worx
Director: Michael Ninn
Cast: Heather Vuur, Nick Manning, Jassie, Jean Val Jean, Dee, Brooke, Monica Mayhem, Nevaeh, Scott Nails, Sledge Hammer

While we will leave it to scholars to decide whether the death of a child is a fitting setting for a porn movie, Michael Ninn’s Sacred Sin really makes a case for the existence of a couples’ market. A heartbroken couples market.

Shot on the Hollywood Hills estate of Eddie Van Halen and featuring compositions by the landlord, this movie is a far cry from “Jamie’s Cryin'”, but thoughtful couples may want to reach down between their legs and ease the seat back regardless.

I listened to a little bit of the director’s commentary on this deluxe set, and it appears Ninn anticipated a mixed reaction to his work, but ultimately took full responsibility. The cast is leonine and beautiful to a person, and great care was taken in setting up the shots. The music is simple and piano-based (save for a Van Hagar-period rock’n number), and the house and grounds were appropriate to the period aspect of this drama.

So why does Ninn worry about the critics several times in the commentary? Probably because, as Sacred Sin co-writer L.E. Smith says, “Gonzo is killing romance.”

This may be true, but nothing kills romance more than a dead kid.

Heather Vuur grieves at the death of her child, and when husband Jean Val Jean seeks solace in Jassie, she kills them both, then herself. She returns in spirit form to the present day, where she torments Nick Manning, who himself has fallen from the grace of God. At least I think that’s what happened.

Sacred Sin deals sexily with the popular porn tropes of losing faith in God and coming to terms with Christianity. We meet hard-boiled detective Sean (Manning), who lost his family to a man he’d put away. Vuur leads him astray, giving him back a blissful moment in his life with lovely wife Brooke Banner to further crush his spirit.

We flash back and forth to aspects of Sean’s grief and Vuur’s past. There is a scene, as you can imagine, involving a demon. Then the demon gets some.

Sacred Sin is a lovely movie to watch, and absent from it is the harsh contextual misogyny of Ninn’s Catherine. I did find myself frustrated throughout the movie with its endless repeated shots that seemed to have less to do with moving the story along than they did with accommodating the soundtrack.

In cases like this, art is distracting. “Get on with it,” I thought, wishing for more demon semen.

Great for couples and C-student theologians, Sacred Sin is clearly a work of love, but when Ninn in the commentary talks of “the adult gendre” (sic) and studying a body “like the Magruder film” (sic), I couldn’t help wondering if his considerable talents as a filmmaker might shine through more brightly if he didn’t think so much.

Buy “Sacred Sin” here