I'm quoting that line of dialogue spoken by star Jessica Drake as it reflects my reaction watching this 10 years later sequel to Brad Armstrong's highly overrated 2008 "blockbuster". Overall, it features some horrendous acting (even Jessica's line readings are poor) and the crummiest production values of any big-deal movie I can recall.
Probably inspired while Brad was watching a random episode of the current tv series "Lucifer", the followup has Jess & Brad (as Angel and Keith) reprising their roles as sort of undead folks in L.A. 10 years after the lousy ending of the first movie. As before, the director insists upon featuring himself in as many sex scenes as possible, though he is no longer the trim leading man of his 1990s acting career. Some ultra-busty actresses with tattoos all over the place, notably Jenevieve Hexxx and August Taylor, are on hand for sex content, along with Luna Star in a nothing role.
Porn's worst actor (though directors continually cast him in film-ruining major roles) Tommy Pistol plays something of a demon for our leads to fight against, and he adopts a ridiculously mannered voice and delivery as if auditioning for a Revue parodying all those James Dean imitators (think Michael Parks or Christopher Jones) so prominent in the 1960s.
Taking a nod (ripoff that is) from "Lucifer", Brad & Jess also have to fight against a pair of not-fallen angels sent from the BIg Cheese upstairs, in the form of Misty Stone and Isiah Maxwell, who in their introductory scene throw script logic to the wind and hump Jessica for no reason other than to pad the 3-hour-plus junker's XXX content.
Extraneous sex scenes abound en route to a trick ending featuring Tyler Nixon as a surfer and literal Deus Ex Machina character. The ensuing happy ending is as phony as in the original film.
Brad takes great pains to link up the two movies, even bringing back Jenna Haze out of retirement to pointlessly reprise her role from the first one, reminding me of the equally pointless resurrecting of Sean Young's character for that recent "Blade Runner" redux with Ryan Gosling. But at least both "Blade Runners" had decent budgets and visual scope, while Brad cuts every corner to stage his dull scenes here on sets better suited to Bowery Boys movies than an "epic".
Sloppy credits at the end omit both Misty Stone and Casey Calvert by mistake.
Sole saving grace is featuring in a leading role the very interesting young actress Leigh Raven (her piercing eyes are stunning but her over abundance of tattoos a minus), portraying a prostitute that Jessica takes under her nonexistent wing, and who proves (pretentiously) to be something of a new Virgin Mary (quite a stretch). She will undoubtedly be nominated for Best Shaven-Head Actress of the Year (competing obviously with Riley Nixon) when the next phony set of industry awards are announced.
Probably inspired while Brad was watching a random episode of the current tv series "Lucifer", the followup has Jess & Brad (as Angel and Keith) reprising their roles as sort of undead folks in L.A. 10 years after the lousy ending of the first movie. As before, the director insists upon featuring himself in as many sex scenes as possible, though he is no longer the trim leading man of his 1990s acting career. Some ultra-busty actresses with tattoos all over the place, notably Jenevieve Hexxx and August Taylor, are on hand for sex content, along with Luna Star in a nothing role.
Porn's worst actor (though directors continually cast him in film-ruining major roles) Tommy Pistol plays something of a demon for our leads to fight against, and he adopts a ridiculously mannered voice and delivery as if auditioning for a Revue parodying all those James Dean imitators (think Michael Parks or Christopher Jones) so prominent in the 1960s.
Taking a nod (ripoff that is) from "Lucifer", Brad & Jess also have to fight against a pair of not-fallen angels sent from the BIg Cheese upstairs, in the form of Misty Stone and Isiah Maxwell, who in their introductory scene throw script logic to the wind and hump Jessica for no reason other than to pad the 3-hour-plus junker's XXX content.
Extraneous sex scenes abound en route to a trick ending featuring Tyler Nixon as a surfer and literal Deus Ex Machina character. The ensuing happy ending is as phony as in the original film.
Brad takes great pains to link up the two movies, even bringing back Jenna Haze out of retirement to pointlessly reprise her role from the first one, reminding me of the equally pointless resurrecting of Sean Young's character for that recent "Blade Runner" redux with Ryan Gosling. But at least both "Blade Runners" had decent budgets and visual scope, while Brad cuts every corner to stage his dull scenes here on sets better suited to Bowery Boys movies than an "epic".
Sloppy credits at the end omit both Misty Stone and Casey Calvert by mistake.
Sole saving grace is featuring in a leading role the very interesting young actress Leigh Raven (her piercing eyes are stunning but her over abundance of tattoos a minus), portraying a prostitute that Jessica takes under her nonexistent wing, and who proves (pretentiously) to be something of a new Virgin Mary (quite a stretch). She will undoubtedly be nominated for Best Shaven-Head Actress of the Year (competing obviously with Riley Nixon) when the next phony set of industry awards are announced.