Pornhound Goes to the Movies
Acid Dreams (2003)

d. Michael Ninn; scr. Michael Ninn; ph. Barry Wood; m. Loren Alexander; ed. Ethan Kane; art d. Eddie Fung; cast. Nikita Denise, Wanda Curtis, Shay Sights, Tyce Bune, Nick Manning, Michelle Michaels (130 mins)

“Set against the background of the Cold War, Washington is going all out to win the race for mind-control supremacy.  No trick is too low, and the sizzling government employed sluts are definitely aiming below the belt as they practice their cock-teasing trade on their victims.”

I had a new bag of some cool hydroponic.  The madam at the brothel in which I worked had a son who was a bikie and LeVayan Satanist, and he had taken to dealing.  So I was all set.  A new whore, a hot 20 year old secretary named Danielle was going to meet me at my place for a little private Catholic school girl fantasy.  From a heroin junkie and anal specialist I’d hooked up with a dealer of primo Route 66 LSD and I was tripping.  The weed was going to top it off, and as anyone who does these drugs knows: the aphrodisiac effect is powerful.  I was hard.  But writing is writing, and I had a porn DVD review to do.  This time it was a little hardcore porn, some mid-career Michael Ninn: Acid Dreams.  It was one of those films he did between his stint with VCA but before he concentrated exclusively on his own label Ninn Worx. 

I’d always admired Ninn films.  Ninn was a former editor at CNN who was broke and going through a messy divorce: in need of quick cash he took to editing porn. 

Disgusted by the banality of what he saw, he convinced legend Jane Hamilton (immortalized to the devout pornhound as Veronica Hart) to give him the money to make something better.  He did.  His VCA films were so unique in the industry that he attracted hundreds of thousands of dollars in budget for special effects laden sci-fi porn fantasies like Shock and Latex.  Andrew Blake may have captured the market for the 1990 revival of porno chic, but Blake’s films were prettified glamour photography and Ninn was sinister and beguilingly dark: transgressive.  Thus, Acid Dreams was released onto the adult market as something special: high budget sex fantasy for acid-heads, dope-fiends and discerning porno enthusiasts.  And I was tripping, high and about to get laid.

From the opening credits the mood was set: gorgeous women, fluid camerawork as sophisticated as a music video – glossy colour, stylized lighting and a fantasy montage of fetish-driven sex.  With music as good as you could expect from Ninn: his earlier works had scores reminiscent of Euro-trance outfits like Enigma, hypnotic and seductive; but here the music was struck through with a guitar reminiscent of the best of Pink Floyd’s David Gilmour.  As the credits descended into a facial cum shot, the gorgeous Shay Sights, aided by the ever reliable veteran Wanda Curtis, dripping cum from her eager mouth, Danielle arrived.  I had a review to do and an inclination to combine work with pleasure.

It’s the height of the Cold War.  Soviet agents are looking to corrupt the American empire from within, through LSD.  There’s a KGB plot to turn the US into a nation of trippers.  A hard-boiled writer is investigating the drug connection, uncovering links to the CIA and its use of sexy women to lure men into being drug guinea pigs. 

CIA drug experimentation for mind control purposes is the agenda here but he’s got a problem – he’s hooked on pussy and the drugs are mighty tempting.  The more involved he gets, the more his fantasies consume him and conspiring forces torment him.  The music swirls and a craning, arching camera dissolves into his drug-inspired fantasies, Ninn tricking the viewer with an assimilation of reality and fantasy.  This is dope-fiend pornotopia: sexual illusionism as alert and intoxicating as a smart drug straight to the adrenalin gland.  The origins of LSD as sexual experience; the societal programming of behaviour and the release of sexual fantasy: Ninn was taking the core of acid culture and spinning a web of erotic release.

I stripped Danielle, positioned her on her knees in front of me.  I brought a bong to my lips, toked on the best weed and slid my cock into some hot Catholic school-girl pussy.  I positioned my laptop on her back and began fucking her as I commenced my review on a peaking acid wave.  The high was crystalline, transforming into a tingle in my nervous system from my spine through to the cockhead I thrust into her tight snatch, making her yelp.  I was carried away by Ninn’s elaborate cinematography, his ability to edit precisely on key moments of sexual passion synchronized to music made to get stoned to.  Ninn’s women all make eye contact with the camera as they fuck and suck cock, daring the viewer to ever more explosive erection and I accepted their invitation.  After all, Ninn is a seductive stylist as deceptive and alluring as any Devil. 

Acid culture revisionist sex fantasy to die (or cum) for!

And Ninn programs the trip well. 

Lights are increasingly brighter, the fucking is ever more intense and the women uninhibitedly exuberant.  The unfolding plot of the investigative writer punctuates the film, providing a bare semblance of narrative coherence, although such is relatively unimportant.  Hence, between sexy vignettes, plunged further into drug-fuelled indulgence, sexy agents close in on our investigate reporter.  Men in suits interrogate him.  Are they the CIA?  Is this a bust?  Private rooms house one way mirrors behind which cameras record everyone and everything in a drugged-out, fucked out fantasy experiment.  Someone is watching.  Ninn leaves his narratives ambiguous, teasing puzzles: dreamlike as reality is consumed by sexual fantasy. 

Is this a tale of illegal LSD experimentation by the CIA?  Or the personal fantasy of a dope fiend high on lust and sampling for the first time what would become prettified in Beatles songs like Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds a generation later.  Mirrors dissolve, identities dissipate into the world through the looking glass – an acid-freak in the wonderland of sexual abandon, as enticing as it is paranoid.  Captured and bound he watches, no longer in control of his own reality, a slave to drug-induced sexual agents destroying American moral fibre with narcotic orgasm, a morass of facials and cum-drenched breasts burning away his identity as he fights against psychic dissolution.

Done with Danielle’s pussy, I wanted to sample her mouth.  I stood up and she got on her knees to deep-throat me.  Her swallow reflex teased my cock-head as I looked from her upturned eyes to the screen and the aesthetic abandon of porn’s true visionary.  In widescreen, digital stereo and a crisp transfer that captures the subtle balance of modern impressionism and fetish fantasy unique to Ninn, the Private DVD of Acid Dreams makes for some of the best porn money can buy. 

Some of Ninn’s work for VCA has commentary tracks and his own Ninn Worx studio releases frequently offer behind the scenes information and interviews alongside the expected porn star fandom bios, but this release has a trailer, cast profiles (three women here ranging from 19 to 42 make their debut for Ninn).  Ninn is a name to trust for quality porn though, and Acid Dreams doesn’t disappoint.

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