The Crash Pad Volume 2

Studio: Blowfish Video
Director: Shine Louise Houston
Cast: Shawn, Jiz, Micha, Dallas, Vai, Legs, Johnny, Jake, Wilder, Michelle Aston, Julie

Portions of this review originally appeared on Fleshbot

A woman invites a friend into her apartment. “I got you a present,” she says, leading her friend into a room where a naked woman sits waiting on the bed.

“Nice present,” she says, and the three become equally naked and start going at it.

Gay or straight, the question remains: If I got you a present, like, say, a bottle of Jagermeister, wouldn’t it be polite to wait for you to offer before I started drinking it? If your answer is no, well, I want to be a lesbian.

“Such a good boy,” the friend says to the “present,” slapping her repeatedly. The first woman casually dons a strap-on and goes to work.

FThe latest in a series about a well-furnished apartment being used as a sex den by a group of Bay Area lesbians, “The Crash Pad”‘s narrative is at first confusing because it is framed as a movie being watched on a computer by its editor. We watch as people come and go, trysting and remembering their hookups from the night before. At some earlier point, we assume, these women had names and back stories; now, all we know about them is that a key to the Crash Pad is a coveted thing.

Coveted but not because the Crash Pad is a lesbian utopia. The femmes sneer at the drag kings, territories seem fragile. And then Michelle Aston shows up! What is she doing here?? Aston again does not take this opportunity to be a delicate flower; she treats her partnwer most harshly.

“Where do you think you’re going, Little Girl?” Aston barks. The little girl gasps as the tattooed storm cloud of Aston descends on her.

“Crashpad” is clearly a movie made by lesbians who love lesbians, and the passion is catchy. Sometimes the filmmakers get so excited that we can even hear them whispering and we can see their cameras. All in service of getting us as close as possible to their subjects, which can’t be bad.

It remains unclear at the end what that peeping movie editor is doing there, but one thing is certain: if the Abby Winters girls showed up at the Crash Pad, they wouldn’t stand a chance.

About Gram the Man 4399 Articles
Gram Ponante is America's Beloved Porn Journalist

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