by Matt Orenstein

staff writer

 

I originally wanted to review Sex Raiders, but, after I rented it, I was reminded that The

Grape had already reviewed it. So I went back to Campus Video to explain to the cute girl at the counter that I hadn’t actually watched Sex Raiders, I’m doing this for an article, I’m not a shady perv, but I need another porno. So I emerged with The Fugitive 2, thinking I was getting a movie that picked up where the 1993 Harrison Ford vehicle left off, only with sexier results.Boy, was I wrong.  Not about the sexy results. Within 30 seconds we are well aware that this is indeed a skin flick. I was wrong about this having anything to do with The Fugitive.

The premise of Fugitive 2 is simple: Carla is running away from her jealous and abusive husband, Patrick, and so she hides with an old fuck buddy, Frank, in the Australian bush. It’s hypnotic. Even though the acting is god-awful and the characters are half-baked, you want to see Frank and Carla end up happy. You develop a vehement hatred toward Patrick and want to see him devoured by crocodiles. Yes, that happens. It happens off camera, though, so as not to make your hard-on shrivel up like a pickle in an oven. There’s nothing sexy about being eaten by a crocodile. The subsequent gangbang in front of Ayers Rock momentarily makes us forget Patrick’s bizarre and agonizing fate.

As expected, the plot here is only a springboard for the sex scenes in the movie. The first real fuckfest in the movie, barring the leave-no-hole-unpoked introduction, takes place when Frank asks his buddy to fill in for him at work so he can protect Carla. Frank’s work involves some kind of show, and his friend willingly steps in. The show involves two women in lace corsets standing on a stage asking for “big cocks in their asses.” Well, at least that’s how the English narrator puts it. We can’t know for sure, because the characters themselves only speak French. Did I mention that this entire movie is in French? Not only is it in French, there are no English subtitles. There are Dutch, Danish, and Swedish subtitles, but no English ones. I relied on the narrator, because the only French I understood in the film was “oui” and “je t’aime,” which one hears quite a bit. But back to the action.

Frank’s buddy jumps up on stage in a pair of tighty-whiteys, and one of the women on stage peels them off and immediately throats his mammoth johnson. Then she hands it to the other woman. This goes back and forth for a while, until he starts fucking one, than the other, in every possible and impossible way. The whole time I was watching this, I was thinking a few things: the first was that I should’ve taken French, because I only can understand some of what they’re saying and what if I’m missing something important? The second was that Frank is clearly crazy. Why have gratuitous sex with one woman when you can have it with two at the same time? His logic is flawed. And the third: Where is Harrison Ford?

After 20 or so minutes of this, Frank and Carla go to visit Johnny and his girlfriend. Bam. Another sex scene. Same deal here, except with two people instead of three. Johnny, who looks suspiciously like the dad from The Wonder Years, bangs his amply endowed girlfriend in a trailer on sheets with dinosaurs on them until he splooges on her face and she mugs for the camera with a cum-goatee. Then the two meet up with Frank and Carla and go camping. That night, Frank has a dream where he is naked dancing to trance music amidst images of tarantulas, crocodiles, snakes, and a woman in a black jumpsuit with a spiderweb painted on her face and holes cut so her lady parts hang out. Johnny’s girl sees that Frank is having a nightmare, so she calms him by giving him head while he sleeps. At this point, the narrator starts speaking in semi-poetic couplets and existential queries. It’s a real mindfuck, and a mindfucking is the one kind of fucking that has no place in porn.

If anything, the movie is grueling. It’s an hour and a half when it should be half an hour.  The sex scenes happen in such rapid succession and take so long it’s numbing to watch. Not understanding French and there being large gaps in the English narration, there are chunks of the movie I can’t understand.  Pierre Woodman’s (that can’t be his real name) directorial style is monotonous, as all the sex scenes have the same cuts and end with a cum-covered girl smiling for him.

And Harrison Ford is nowhere to be found.