Perhaps one of the oldest porn tropes, the sex fantasy compendium was already well established by the early '70s, with TEEN-AGE FANTASIES providing an excellent straight-leaning prototype. It can be a frustrating genre, at once ripe with possibility for something novel and engaging, yet frequently delivering little more than the usual assembly-line pap, with "my wife wearing garters" substituting for anything resembling kink or interest. Trying his hand at the topic in his final film-lensed production, Wakefield Poole achieves mixed success with TAKE ONE, a sex flick that's frequently more interesting for its verite style than its eroticism.
Fantasy compendiums tend to start or finish with their strongest material, and Poole kicks his off with a couple of impressive scenes. After opening with some sexy nude ballet footage courtesy of the oddly named Sal Guange (unfortunately pared down in the recent reissue from Vinegar Syndrome), the film proper begins with Poole discussing the production process with his crew, in a verite sequence that wouldn't seem out-of-place in a Maysles brothers film. The difference is, after discussing things, the group adjourns to the next room to film the movie's first porn scene – auto fetishist Nick Ritter fantasizing about making sweet love to his vintage convertible. This is a wild sequence, with most of Poole's signature obsessions in full effect: beautiful gelled lighting; a handsome, virile body in motion; and uninhibited, raunchy sex. The guy masturbates in a strange shrouded area Poole refers to (on the DVD commentary) as "The Brain Room," while footage of the young man in- auto-delicto is projected on the billowy white screen behind him. We eventually move into this footage for a closer look, and the sequence climaxes with two spectacular cum shots – one with the car and one solo. So far, so good.
The next scene is even more of an eye-opener, interviewing two brothers who explain they've long fantasized about making love with each other but have never had the chance. After some preliminary conversation to break the ice, the two get down to business, first with a bit of light S&M and leather play while they feel each other out, then finally in full-on sexual congress. Still a hot-button subject and major turnoff for plenty of viewers, incest receives fearless treatment from Poole here, with the scene pulling no punches and making no apologies. While many will doubtless still find it off-putting, it's a testament to Poole's commitment to sexual freedom that he treats things as nonchalantly as he does here. Still, even for those with an open mind, the encounter will pack a wallop, and it's probably just as scandalous today as it was 40 years ago, if not more.
Following a one-two punch like that, it's hard to imagine Poole topping it, and unfortunately as the film progresses it slides into less dynamic territory. One guy's fantasy seems to be merely having his arms held down during sex after picking someone up at a bar, while gay porn titan Richard Locke (the inimitable star of Joe Gage's "Working Man" trilogy), delivers a sweet but inessential scene with his partner on the roof of their desert home. It's decent sex (with Poole making good use of a nearby mirror in filming), but for genre fans this scene will probably hold more interest for its documentary aspect (namely the glimpse it affords of the famously reclusive Locke's private life) than its sex.
Presaging the conclusion of the similarly uneven-but-enjoyable mainstream doc CINEMANIA a quarter century later, the conclusion finds the film's cast assembled to watch their own performances, with the screening soon devolving into a 20-minute orgy sequence (a development blessedly omitted from the other film). This is more of the standard Poole phantasmagoria, featuring (again) great use of gelled lighting and hot sex, but unfortunately lacking in the sort of reflexivity one might have hoped for. Poole states on the commentary that all eight participants found the process of shooting the film enlightening and almost spiritual, but little of that shows here. It's a standard orgy denouement, missing the heart, soul and humanism that had so far made the film so unique.
The wanting nature of this final quarter speaks to the film's awkward position between full-on sex flick and legitimate documentary. TAKE ONE includes a number of great historiographic touches, from its intimate documenting of SF's famed Nob Hill Theater to the truly boundless openness of gay sexual liberation at the time (fated to disappear with the onset of the AIDS epidemic just a few years later), but after a strong opening the film quickly begins to lose momentum sexually. Poole's experimental tendencies also get the better of him, with his willy-nilly cutting between the later encounters coming off as confusing and unmotivated – a shame given how strong things are in the first half when Poole lets his footage speak for itself. For both its heart and historical interest the film merits a recommendation, but if Poole was going to insist on performing ex-post-facto tinkering (three segments on the Vinegar Syndrome DVD have been shortened, though the omitted footage is still included as a DVD extra), he probably would have benefited from tightening the feature even further.
Fantasy compendiums tend to start or finish with their strongest material, and Poole kicks his off with a couple of impressive scenes. After opening with some sexy nude ballet footage courtesy of the oddly named Sal Guange (unfortunately pared down in the recent reissue from Vinegar Syndrome), the film proper begins with Poole discussing the production process with his crew, in a verite sequence that wouldn't seem out-of-place in a Maysles brothers film. The difference is, after discussing things, the group adjourns to the next room to film the movie's first porn scene – auto fetishist Nick Ritter fantasizing about making sweet love to his vintage convertible. This is a wild sequence, with most of Poole's signature obsessions in full effect: beautiful gelled lighting; a handsome, virile body in motion; and uninhibited, raunchy sex. The guy masturbates in a strange shrouded area Poole refers to (on the DVD commentary) as "The Brain Room," while footage of the young man in- auto-delicto is projected on the billowy white screen behind him. We eventually move into this footage for a closer look, and the sequence climaxes with two spectacular cum shots – one with the car and one solo. So far, so good.
The next scene is even more of an eye-opener, interviewing two brothers who explain they've long fantasized about making love with each other but have never had the chance. After some preliminary conversation to break the ice, the two get down to business, first with a bit of light S&M and leather play while they feel each other out, then finally in full-on sexual congress. Still a hot-button subject and major turnoff for plenty of viewers, incest receives fearless treatment from Poole here, with the scene pulling no punches and making no apologies. While many will doubtless still find it off-putting, it's a testament to Poole's commitment to sexual freedom that he treats things as nonchalantly as he does here. Still, even for those with an open mind, the encounter will pack a wallop, and it's probably just as scandalous today as it was 40 years ago, if not more.
Following a one-two punch like that, it's hard to imagine Poole topping it, and unfortunately as the film progresses it slides into less dynamic territory. One guy's fantasy seems to be merely having his arms held down during sex after picking someone up at a bar, while gay porn titan Richard Locke (the inimitable star of Joe Gage's "Working Man" trilogy), delivers a sweet but inessential scene with his partner on the roof of their desert home. It's decent sex (with Poole making good use of a nearby mirror in filming), but for genre fans this scene will probably hold more interest for its documentary aspect (namely the glimpse it affords of the famously reclusive Locke's private life) than its sex.
Presaging the conclusion of the similarly uneven-but-enjoyable mainstream doc CINEMANIA a quarter century later, the conclusion finds the film's cast assembled to watch their own performances, with the screening soon devolving into a 20-minute orgy sequence (a development blessedly omitted from the other film). This is more of the standard Poole phantasmagoria, featuring (again) great use of gelled lighting and hot sex, but unfortunately lacking in the sort of reflexivity one might have hoped for. Poole states on the commentary that all eight participants found the process of shooting the film enlightening and almost spiritual, but little of that shows here. It's a standard orgy denouement, missing the heart, soul and humanism that had so far made the film so unique.
The wanting nature of this final quarter speaks to the film's awkward position between full-on sex flick and legitimate documentary. TAKE ONE includes a number of great historiographic touches, from its intimate documenting of SF's famed Nob Hill Theater to the truly boundless openness of gay sexual liberation at the time (fated to disappear with the onset of the AIDS epidemic just a few years later), but after a strong opening the film quickly begins to lose momentum sexually. Poole's experimental tendencies also get the better of him, with his willy-nilly cutting between the later encounters coming off as confusing and unmotivated – a shame given how strong things are in the first half when Poole lets his footage speak for itself. For both its heart and historical interest the film merits a recommendation, but if Poole was going to insist on performing ex-post-facto tinkering (three segments on the Vinegar Syndrome DVD have been shortened, though the omitted footage is still included as a DVD extra), he probably would have benefited from tightening the feature even further.