The sadness that lingers over the leading male character like a dark cloud in Paul Thomas's The Masseuse is what sets apart most contemporary pornographic films from being plastic (figuratively and literally) products of a large industry. A remake of the low-key 1990 film of the same name (also directed by Thomas), this remake concerns Barbara (Jenna Jameson), a gorgeous blonde masseuse who strikes up a sexual relationship with Jim (Justin Sterling), a middle-aged virgin who begins frequenting the massage parlor. Jim immediately takes a liking to Barbara's soft touch, relaxing voice, and radiant beauty, requesting sexual favors that result in hefty monetary compensation.
Eventually, their relationship spices up a bit, with Barbara coming over to Jim's house to indulge in his shed of sex toys, whips, paddles, chains, and trinkets. Contrary to romantic (and perhaps pornographic) convention, love isn't in the air on Barbara's end. Whenever Jim tries to further the relationship past casual, compensated sex, Barbara pushes away, claiming things will get "too complicated" and reaffirming her love for keeping things simple and easy to manage.
So much of The Masseuse is heartbreaking as it is arousing. Consider the scene when Jim and Barbara are trying to negotiate a price for the night's escapades. Barbara starts at $200. "That doesn't leave me much for the week," Jim feebly replies, "how about $150?," he counters, to which she accepts. This is a sad scene, even if it doesn't come off like that, and not in a pathetic way. The fact that Jim is about ready to give up his weekly income on a woman who (a) doesn't love him and (b) doesn't really care about his personal life shows his desperation for some level of human companionship and compassion. Jim's entire life has ostensibly been about playing safe and anticipating results over process. Barbara is the first thing in his life that adds unpredictability and attention to interrupt the banal doings of his every day busy work.
The loneliness writers Dean Nash and Mark Haggard profile in The Masseuse is one even the most independent films have a hard time adequately portraying, and they do it with great pacing and situational drama. Jameson and Sterling also spark terrific chemistry, sexual and conversational, especially Sterling as an actor, who's stammer and weak voice comes through to say more about his character than he could ever effectively say himself.
The Masseuse, however, works just fine as a pornographic film; its sex scenes are erotic and methodical, taking their time to build to a rewarding and satisfying climax. Jameson's beauty and energy compliments many of the scenes, and the way both her and Sterling exercise mannered patience with the escalation of their sex makes the film that much more charming and worthy of recognition. Nothing is rushed, nothing is unclear, and the videography is pristine.
Not since the original Taboo did I find myself anticipating the actual dialog scenes more than the sex scenes in a pornographic film but The Masseuse is a film with brain and a personality to add to its explicit sex. It also features one of the first lesbian scenes I actually found myself enjoying on a sexual level, rather than just being bored and disinterested throughout the entire time. Much like Taboo in a narrative sense, if one truly mustered the motivation and maturity to watch the film, they could enjoy it as a film in addition to an arousing piece of art.
Starring: Jenna Jameson and Justin Sterling. Directed by: Paul Thomas.
Eventually, their relationship spices up a bit, with Barbara coming over to Jim's house to indulge in his shed of sex toys, whips, paddles, chains, and trinkets. Contrary to romantic (and perhaps pornographic) convention, love isn't in the air on Barbara's end. Whenever Jim tries to further the relationship past casual, compensated sex, Barbara pushes away, claiming things will get "too complicated" and reaffirming her love for keeping things simple and easy to manage.
So much of The Masseuse is heartbreaking as it is arousing. Consider the scene when Jim and Barbara are trying to negotiate a price for the night's escapades. Barbara starts at $200. "That doesn't leave me much for the week," Jim feebly replies, "how about $150?," he counters, to which she accepts. This is a sad scene, even if it doesn't come off like that, and not in a pathetic way. The fact that Jim is about ready to give up his weekly income on a woman who (a) doesn't love him and (b) doesn't really care about his personal life shows his desperation for some level of human companionship and compassion. Jim's entire life has ostensibly been about playing safe and anticipating results over process. Barbara is the first thing in his life that adds unpredictability and attention to interrupt the banal doings of his every day busy work.
The loneliness writers Dean Nash and Mark Haggard profile in The Masseuse is one even the most independent films have a hard time adequately portraying, and they do it with great pacing and situational drama. Jameson and Sterling also spark terrific chemistry, sexual and conversational, especially Sterling as an actor, who's stammer and weak voice comes through to say more about his character than he could ever effectively say himself.
The Masseuse, however, works just fine as a pornographic film; its sex scenes are erotic and methodical, taking their time to build to a rewarding and satisfying climax. Jameson's beauty and energy compliments many of the scenes, and the way both her and Sterling exercise mannered patience with the escalation of their sex makes the film that much more charming and worthy of recognition. Nothing is rushed, nothing is unclear, and the videography is pristine.
Not since the original Taboo did I find myself anticipating the actual dialog scenes more than the sex scenes in a pornographic film but The Masseuse is a film with brain and a personality to add to its explicit sex. It also features one of the first lesbian scenes I actually found myself enjoying on a sexual level, rather than just being bored and disinterested throughout the entire time. Much like Taboo in a narrative sense, if one truly mustered the motivation and maturity to watch the film, they could enjoy it as a film in addition to an arousing piece of art.
Starring: Jenna Jameson and Justin Sterling. Directed by: Paul Thomas.