THE TAINT (2010) - taint no business like cock business, or rape is my business and business is good

If you’re anything like me, you’ve been royally disappointed with the taint-sploitation genre up to this point. There’s the Twilight spoof Taintlight, and the totally unknown Tainted Image, and the weak sequel to Addicted to Murder, Addicted to Murder 2: Tainted Blood. The best of the bunch is probably Tainted Blood (1993),a made for TV young adult thriller starring Kerri Green and Natasha Gregson Wagner (hotness alert, indeed).

Well, there’s a new entry into the pantheon, and it’s the purest expression of the genre yet. Now, technically, the movie is about cock, not the taint, but they are connected at the hip, so to speak, and a taint is not exactly the most cinematic thing around. When I say the movie is “about cock”, I sure as balls mean it. Granted, there are actual cocks (well, prosthetic ones) littering this cinematic landscape, but I’m speaking of a predominant theme at work, that of the male’s desire to have a bigger and better cock, and all of the horrors and shenanigans that can result. Many a small or dysfunctional penis throughout history has resulted in a destructive act, from date rape to an entire war, and The Taint takes this idea and writs it across a Crazies-esque horror film. That is, cock subtext rendered in in-your-face cinematic terms even the stupid can comprehend.

It should be noted that I don’t include modern porn when discussing the taint-sploitation genre. Let’s say some dude watches a double feature of “Sasha Grey – Diary of a Taint Muncher” (that’s gonna be one redundant diary) and Remains of the Day. When somebody asks him if he’s seen any movies lately, he’ll mention he fell asleep halfway through Remains of the Day, and completely leave out any mention of the Sasha Grey thing, regardless of whether or not he’s ashamed, BECAUSE IT’S NOT REALLY A MOVIE. It’s pretty much footage of people fucking, specifically the lovely Sasha and some lucky nameless chap. Any “plot” or dialogue is really in there so Sasha can get a breather (and those poor taints need a breather too).

The basic plot is that several scientists come up with some magic potion that can supercharge the cock, but things go awry, turning nearly all men into rapists and killers. Left to fend for themselves are a strong woman and an impotent male, as they are forced to use shotguns or whatever is at hand to destroy the many hard-ons they encounter. Interestingly, one group of rapists harass our male hero in much the same way he was harassed during high school gym class (includes a forced-in, yet no less righteous athletic rawk montage). This presents the male species as arrested juveniles sneaking a peek at their gym classmates in order to ridicule as a means of diverting attention. In other words, most men are solely obsessed with the inadequacy of their crotch, and cope by either making things miserable for others, or by cowering in defeat; the world separated into the alpha cocks and the not-so-alpha cocks. John Holmes would be a notable exception to this rule on account of…well, you know.

If this sounds all a little unsubtle and pornographic, well, you’re half right. As I said, dumb people will be able to grasp the unsubtle Freudian subtext, that of a world held in the terrorizing grasp of penis envy, but your normal viewer will quickly connect the dots and realize that, yes, the penis is evil incarnate and I have excepted this and since moved on with my life and...what the fuck is going on here?!? Perhaps the filmmakers should’ve started with a story about the fear of having a small cock and see where it goes, rather than making every scene about having a small cock, if you follow. The results are one note and in your face, seemingly a great base for a short film, but stretched out to 70 odd minutes. Then again, maybe that’s the idea. The male audience must be pummeled out of their cock obsession through visceral means, as mere rational persuasion has proved insufficient. Of course, women are therefore unlikely to find much here to sink their teeth into, unless they really dig prosthetic cocks. Or they’re dumb. Or both. Probably both.

In terms of it being potentially “pornographic”, whatever that means, the film is certainly not erotic in tone. The cocks and jizz on display is used to serve a gross out camp aesthetic, sorta like a Troma film, but to a different end. The spurting body fluids you might find in a Troma production are usually representative of the human body reduced to mere matter, if not mutated all together, in light of the modern industrial society and the resultant raping of mother nature. Here, the plentiful jizz on display, as well as the blood and vomit, are there to repulse the modern male out of his cock fueled skin, rather than, say, shame him into joining Greenpeace. Personally, I have a problem with watching spurting bodily fluids in cinema that aren't blood. I quite enjoyed the vast number of head crushes and other bits of gore, all impressively rendered (seemingly no CGI here folks, and all the better for it). I guess I’m just another male cretin, preferring violence over more harmless bodily functions, and the proof is in the cinematic pudding, so to speak.

The tone is one of John Waters-esque genre parody pushed into bizarre hipster territory. To put it another way, when you see Debbie Harry pop up in Hairspray with a ridiculous beehive, this is funny both in visual terms and as a parody of both movies and real life. Women actually wore beehives, just not quite that outlandish looking. However, the hero in The Taint wears a ridiculous wig, but it’s mostly just strange, not resembling any sort of "normal" haircut you would see nowadays. Now, granted, there are Brooklyn hipsters that no doubt have hair that looks exactly like the hero’s wig, but it is worn as an ironic hairstyle that is intentionally absurd, since no one would really style their hair in such a way…if that makes sense. To put it another way, a hipster might wear a Stryper t-shirt (see Whip It), not because he/she likes Stryper, but because no one fucking likes Stryper. Now, in fairness, the yellow and black attack sold records in their heyday, but even diehard Christians have since moved on to Shout at the Devil. They say to themselves "how could god exist in a world where music that shitty is considered holy?", and they would be correct.

Speaking of which, the soundtrack and score of The Taint is surprisingly good, appropriately featuring Bruce Cockburn, Joe Cocker, and Cock and Ball Torture. What a lineup. Woodstock can go eat a dick. Sorry...no, actually, none of those artists appear on the soundtrack, as it’s a low budget production unable to afford the likes of Cock and Ball Torture, but the no name bands brought aboard do a good job regardless.

It isn't hard to make the connection between Viagra and the wondercock injection presented in the film. Amusingly, there is a Nazi propaganda commercial used to sell this new drug ("don't be a faggot...get cock!", it proclaims). This is but an absurd variation on all those cock drug commercials we're already being deluged with, further selling the male on his penile inadequacy. To put it another way, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, and I enjoy a good cigar except when it explodes. Alas, here is a film of exploding cigars. So, guys, let's watch our cigars, as an exploding cigar is a bad cigar indeed.

P.S. Click here to buy the movie and related swag. If you try and illegally download this movie, God will punch you in the taint. Thank you.

TAINTLIGHT (2009) - it still taint happening folks

Here is the trailer for a movie whose existence is solely predicated on the fact that the Twilight franchise has made roughly 87 trillion dollars. You'd think they'd be a little kinder.

While previous generations of young people were concerned with weighty issues like the Vietnam war, women’s rights, and the military industrial complex, the youth of today have ushered in the present with their own set of worries, namely:

1. Is Bella gonna fuck Edward?
2. Is Edward gonna fuck Bella?
3. That wolf dude has great abs. How does this enter into the equation?

Well, who can blame them really. Who wants to worry themselves about wars and politics and genocide? That shit is BORING. They’d much rather chill with Bella and the boys, watching them play baseball while covered in glitter, or whatever it is that fake vampires do in their spare time. Moping about important shit is no way to go through life.

***

Right away, we meet our Bella replacement, Stella Ennui, who explains her situation in voice over. She notes that her mother died of “committing suicide disease”. I laughed at both the Ennui bit of her name (vaguely clever, I would say), and the suicide disease bit. Not because the line is necessarily that funny, but because she uses air quotes to describe the disease, despite her voice over being an interior monologue. It’s a cinematic joke you don’t usually see in movies this stupid, more often reserved for the likes of Frank Tashlin or Mel Brooks.

Immediately, we are supposed to sympathise with the filmmaker’s disdain for Kristen Stewart’s aloof acting style. I admittedly haven’t seen the Twilight films, except for parts of the first one, but am somewhat of a fan of Kristen anyway, having seen some of her other work. She shows an interior intelligence and ephemeral honesty, coupled with an exterior apathy and disdain of craft. I, for one, wish more young actors would take this route. Usually, you get something like: “Hey, look at me! I am full of confidence! I took a bunch of acting classes and workshops and stuff! I CAN EMOTE!”. Hey professional thespian…shut the fuck up. Characters are usually, first and foremost, PEOPLE, and not showcases for how confidently you can utter lines and stomp your feet. I heard people complain that, during the Oscars, Kristen sat slumped in her seat, bored with the empty spectacle in front of her. I applaud it. Caring about shit is overrated, I say. Also, she’s pretty hot, but that also ties into the apathetic moping thing as well. If she had a big perm and wore loads of makeup and had a bubbly confidence about her, I probably wouldn’t be licking the screen everytime Catch That Kid pops up on cable. I’m kidding of course. Really I am.

Normally, a spoof like this only works if it can repeatedly string together funny gags. Airplane isn’t great because The Concorde…Airport ‘79 is retarded (and lordy is it retarded), and the Zuckers have the courage to point this out, and both filmmaker and audience can nod in agreement. Airplane is funny because funny shit happens throughout; no more, no less. Pointing at a film and saying it’s stupid is a waste of everybody’s time. It’s just an inanimate object, after all. As Jean Luc Godard said, “the best way to criticize a film is to make another film”. Saying something sucks fifty different ways is not “real” criticism in the way that creating a better version and having the other pale in comparison is. I didn’t find very much to laugh at here, but keep in mind, I’m no Twilight groupie, so maybe there’s a bunch of obscure references that I missed, all of which I'm sure were brilliant and witty and tubular and shit.

Apart from the opening monologue. I also liked the line where the fake Edward says “I’m not of this mortal coil”, because it’s a clever approximation of what one of these goth emos might actually say, and also doubles as a reference to an awesome band. Speaking of which, the fake Edward mugs horribly throughout the film. It’s another way of pointing and laughing at the real Edward’s performance, which apparently involved a lot of moody furrowing of the brow and what not. It’s the sort of thing that seems funny when a bunch of drunk frat fuckers get together and make fun of something, but sits there dead on the screen when actualized. After all, when a bully points and laughs at some nerd wearing a Legend of Zelda baseball jersey, he may be enjoying himself at that moment, but it’s because he has declared himself superior to something. Anybody standing around watching is not likely to chortle at the situation, except as an accessory to the bully’s meathead insecurity.

I also liked that there’s a guy that seems to be doing an Emo Phillips impersonation, although I’m not sure if that was the intended idea. I think it would’ve been hilarious if they actually got Emo Phillips to play the part, with the characters acting as if he’s just a normal teenager. It would be inexplicable, yes, but funny as balls. After all, inexplicable Emo Phillips is always funny. Other than that, this movie can lick my taint. They should put that on the poster. Oh wait, it’s direct to video. Never mind.

Now, I agree that vampires sparkling and moping around is fucking stupid, but replacing this with pointing out that vampires are sparkling and moping around is not any less stupid, if you follow me. I guess my generation’s equivalent to Twilight would be something like The Lost Boys, I movie I loved as a kid and continue to enjoy. Say what you want about this MTV vampire opus with the Coreys fighting the undead against all odds, but at least shit actually HAPPENS during the film. I don’t quite get how you can write three books about a girl maybe or maybe not fucking a vampire dude that doesn’t even do any cool vampire shit, like sucking out a hooker’s neck before crashing out of the third story window of a cheap motel, flying onto a motorcycle and revving away into the night. Any asshole can play baseball.


***

Here is another movie with the word “taint” in the title (the other being Tainted Image) that is not, as of this writing, listed on IMDB (not including porn, of course). That may be the narrowest film genre in all of moviedom. Unfortunately, both taint movies have left me down, discouraging me from seeking out further taint related cinema. Strangely, whenever I see the word “taint”, I think of the Mr. Show sketch, featuring an up and coming male porn star and a character based on Larry Flynt. However, instead of a giant cock, this guy has an impressive taint (I’m not quite sure what qualities one compares when judging taints, however). I guess the image of Scott Aukerman spread eagle has never quite left my subconscious. I’m no homo, mind you. Really I’m not. Well, I’ll just point out that his meteoric rise inspires the creation of a magazine called “Under Your Balls Quarterly”. Now THAT is some fucking comedy. To try and explain why that’s funny and most of Taintlight isn’t would just ruin everything, so you’ll just have to figure it out for yourself. Such is the enigma of humor. However, this sketch is not without pathos, what with tragedy inevitably striking in the life of this pseudo Larry Flynt. Specifically…CAPTAIN TRAGEDY!!!

TAINTED IMAGE (1991) - it taint happening folks

these visions haunt our heroine Kate, perhaps symbolizing that she is totally batshit crazy or whatever

Here is another uber-obscurity that's not even listed on IMDB (as of this writing), a la A Dozen Ways to Die. It rests in the astonishingly narrow "regional psychological horror" category, along with Disconnected (1983) and maybe The Disturbance (1990) (and possibly nothing else). Unfortunately, where as the other two beat the odds to be somewhat effective little thrillers, Tainted Image fails in the Roman Polanski ripoff sweepstakes (insert joke about the rape of a comatose 13-year-old girl).

Well, Kate's mother just died, and she has since been experiencing "visions", like seeing her mother's tombstone bleed for some reason (I guess it symbolizes that death is super creepy and stuff), and some flashbacks to a troubled childhood (pay attention for some exciting plot info). Her boyfriend with the horrible fro-mullet tries to console her, but as the film is a ripoff of Repulsion, she remains frigid in the face of uncouth groping. Then again, maybe she's just honestly repulsed by this schmoe. On top of his hair and general annoyance factor, he tries to sound smart while reading the newspaper, decrying that "Bush is a Communist!". I don't know what paper you're reading pal. Maybe you meant "Bush is a pussy". Worst of all, her neighbor is the most annoying human being in the hell that is her daily reality, a fat faux-southern whale of bitch who looks like she just got kicked out of an audition for a John Waters movie. She constantly yells at her not to have sex and "live in sin", yet constantly hits on her boyfriend. I say let them have each other and move to California, or at least murder the fat cow for the sake of your own sanity.

Kate works as an art gallery guide, droning on about abstract expressionist form or whatever. She's also taking a painting class, concocting banal sky scapes and what have you. Her pretentious teacher chimes in with some good advice, telling Kate that she should try and channel some of that negative energy into her work (maybe a cool painting of a tombstone covered in blood). He also pontificates on and on about Munch's "Scream" painting, setting up later plot developments (and a somewhat righteous Carrie ripoff). Whenever a movie forces you to sit in on a class, the lesson always relates to future plot points somehow (especially in horror films). It's sorta like the reward the film gives you for suffering through school again.

So, it's clear that Kate is starting to crack. She's becoming paranoid that her boyfriend is cheating on her, she stares outside of the window at a giant Motley Crue sign carved into a basketball court, and the soundtrack of her inner mind combines low rent chanting, tuneless organ noodling, and some other music that sounds like one of those new age tapes played backwards. Her teacher tries to console her by offering to "help" her (i.e. some nookie), and her boyfriend suggests she and him go see the new Woody Allen movie to get her mind off of things (that is, distraction through nebishness). Thankfully for characters in these N.Y. area films (although usually ones that take place in Manhattan), there's always a new Woody Allen movie playing. Boy, the Woodman keeps churning 'em out.

I know I'm supposed to share in Kate's mental dissolution, but it's hard to take her seriously with such a brutal goomba accent. She might work as a bad blind date for Costanza on Seinfeld, but unfortunately, you need to be able to take her seriously within a slow burn psychological horror film. In effect, the movie has to sell the reality of Kate's surrounding, in order to sell the crumbling of her reality. Not only that, but, alone on an island, she has to sell the crumbling of her interior world. Unfortunately, amateurish performances destroy this reality across the board (and slack editing further undercuts the actors). In other words, every actor annoyed my pants off, and I wasn't even wearing pants at the time.

Tainted Image is a great example of a movie that sounds great in theory, but is completely lifeless in execution. It's (mostly) not interested in providing any B-movie thrills, but solely trying to build off of Repulsion and The Tenant, a colossal task for even an experienced crew with an actual budget. A much better example of a similar tale would be the previously mentioned Disconnected, starring C-movie goddess Frances Raines in the Catherine Deneuve role. While still ultra cheap, the lack of a budget somewhat works for it instead of against, creating a drab world that Frances is completely alienated from. She tries to engage in normal human behavior but fails, in scenes acted out in real time. Tainted Image, on the other hand, is more symbolic in nature, which is always dicey territory for any film. Her dreams symbolize her crumbling mental state, instead of providing psychological insight into a real character. In other words, it's better to show someone honestly coping with a lack of marbles, than to just show that they have increasingly less and less marbles. If you follow me. You know what...I need to work on my metaphors. I really do.