After another cool-as-a-spring-breeze titles sequence (much like Pablo Ferro's groundbreaking titles for Bullitt), this one starts with a bra-and-panty clad Kelsey walking around a red-lit bathroom-turned-darkroom. She looks at some pictures hanging out to dry - other women in their scanties - and walks over to sit on a chair, a picture in hand. She holds the picture in one hand, licks one finger, caresses a nipple. Licks another finger, puts it down the panties. Lights a cigarette, takes a puff, casually tosses it in the bathtub. Whammo the tub explodes into flames. She doesn't flinch. Keeps on keepin' on. More flames. The photos drying on the string behind her start to smoke, then catch fire. She doesn't stop. As the music crescendos, we see Kylie Ireland, in an office of some kind, doing the same thing. No fire, though.
Okay, we're hooked.
Dissolve to Felicia Fox on the hood of a car in a warehouse. Dillion Day behind the wheel. Dissolve to Dillion Day in front of Fox. Dissolve to Fox in front of Day, on her knees. Dissolve to Fox on top of Day, on the car's hood. Dissolve to Day in front of the car, driving into a spread-legged Fox. After the pop, there's a freeze frame and the camera pans past a table of contents on a magazine page to a picture of Daniella Rush in angel wings.
Suddenly it makes sense. Ireland is a magazine editor, and the scenes are images that she's putting in the magazine. Like Rush in a churchlike setting, in a white feathered bikini and angel wings, surrounded by candles, masturbating until she's confronted by black-winged Evan Stone. She's ripe to be seduced, and she's on her knees, but not praying, in short order. Then she's reclining on the bench with one organ behind her, and another inside her.
Ireland's in shiny black leather next, in a very shiny room with the equally shiny black-leather-clad Logan LaBrent. (Obviously Ireland's a hands-on editor.) Soon they're joined by nude blonde innocent-looking Sunrise Adams. Adams and LaBrent pleasure Ireland before reciprocity kicks in: Dommes with a heart. Later, they d.p. Ireland with vibes.
Coming back to "reality," Ireland masturbates in an elongated tracking shot where she fades from point to point in her expansive office. Breena is up next, in a solo scene with hand-held shots and occasional smashcuts of Ireland, just to see if you're paying attention.
Back to the office, Ireland loads some slides into a scanner, runs her hands over her breasts, while we watch the pictures she just loaded. Mark Davis and Monica Sweetheart in a bedroom. She masturbates while he watches TV, then he turns his attention to her.
The creativity never flags in this 11-scene vid. Eventually, Ireland starts losing herself in the pictures, more and more popping into the scenes, less and less in reality. Derik Andrews' music synchs with the mood(s) of all the scenes, and letterboxing down to a 1.85:1 frame adds a movie-look elegance to match the soft look of Andrews' videography.
The details are great in this, like the table of contents letters-to-the-editor description readable thanks to the freeze frame button: "Readers with too much time on their hands praise women, mock our staff members and demand to see more hardcore." And be sure to stick around after the credits for an in-joke that Andrews tells on himself.
Pre-noms: All-Sex Video; Andrews for Best Direction - Video and Video Editing; Anthony Crane for Art Direction; Derik Andrews for Music; Solo Girl Scene for Kelsey and her flaming bathtub; Couples Scene for Ireland and Erik Everhard's ice cave tussle; Special Effects for the long pan with Ireland dissolving alone; and let's throw in the box cover for good measure.
Review from AVN
