Here’s your chance for a close shot of William Dafoe’s balls and stiff prick jamming into a lady’s arse end. This happens in the first scene, while their cute little baby in the next room breaks out of his bed, climbs up to a windowsill, and jumps to his death.
Splat, at the very same instant Dafoe and his woman reach orgasm.
This is one sick, demented film.
There are so many things wrong in this one short sequence I popped the DVD and sent it straight away back to Netflix. This film should have been X-rated, even hard core porn, not something I expect from any Netflix products.
The gay part of this whole episode is that you never see the woman’s body other than a glimpse of her erect nipples (his are erect too, no doubt). You get long, lingering, loving shots of Dafoe’s flabby buttocks, though — just like in the film’s poster.
You get the strong illusion of him butt-fucking another hot body. You get the idea of two beautiful faces in ecstasy, two men genuflecting in an ocean of filth.
This is how gays enjoy their sex as married couples. They never have to be worried about children in the next room. They never have to worry (or dream) of unintended pregnancy. There’s no edge of danger, or crescent of hope, as the case may be.
Their sexual encounters are pure emotional erotic episodes with none of the “consequences” that make the sex act meaningful.
Even animals have sex with the expectation of genetic continuation. Birds want to give little birdies the chance to fly and frolic in the air. Cats love to chase mice. Gays just want to fuck. That doesn’t qualify for anything above abomination.
I used to think William Dafoe was a fine actor. Now I realize he’s just another narcissistic bastard trading in all his acting credits to fuck society in the asshole.
