THIS ISN’T MAX HARDCORE
Debi Diamond Films
Directed by Michael Kahn
STARRING
Kristina Rose, Rod Fontana
Well. So. That just happened.
I just watched Debi Diamond Films’ recent release, This Isn’t Max Hardcore, a 50-minute film that turns the tables on the now-incarcerated for obscenity, fish-hooking, funnel-wielding, skull-fucking, grandpappy of prurience, Max Hardcore. Max, played by a cowboy hat-wearing Rod Fontana, lures a “little girl” into his home for an afternoon of anal pleasure that, if Max’s old films are any indication, will be anything but pleasurable for her butt. The girl, alas for Max and his perverted plans, is one Kristina Rose, whose adorable appearance, sweet manner, and beautiful buttocks are all merely a clever disguise. Kristina is fed up with Max’s bullshit and she’s got a sadistic score to settle.
After an initial tease in which Kristina takes up calling Max “Mister” in true Hardcore-girl fashion, she quickly gets tired of him trying to fuck her ass. “You’re pissing me off!” she yells at him, slapping him and taking the upper hand in the situation. “You don’t get to stick anything in my ass!”
And we’re off on a wild romp in which Kristina skull fucks Max with her toes, berates him verbally, slaps his ass and thighs until they’re cherry red, squeezes his dick till it turns purple, smothers him with her ass, and shoves a variety of digits (hint: I means hands and feet), toys, and plugs in his “butt-butt,” before riding him off, pony-style, into the sunset wearing his cowboy hat.
The scene is about halfway between a funny femdom scene, with Kristina playing an adorably spoiled brat with a sick streak, and a fictional filming of Max Hardcore’s comeuppance at the hands of one of the women he violated in different — and according to the court system, obscene — ways. It’s not particularly sexy to watch unless you’re into femdom, which I’m not, but it’s still weirdly fun. Kristina is a perfectly perky, baby-talking Max Hardcore girl gone awry, and Fontana’s hardcore experience makes him a willing participant in his own humiliation, so everybody is having fun. In the end he even manages a pop-shot on her ass, to which Kristina screams, “Ew, GROSS!” before punishing him for “making a mess like a little animal.” (I laughed at that bit — it’s such a reversal from the kind of creepy fetishization of cum that’s become standard in most porn that watching a girl be thoroughly disgusted, rather than turned on, by a load on her ass is totally appropriate here.) Fontana’s obviously enjoying being treated this way, and Kristina is very evidently having a blast giving “Max” the revenge he’s due for all violent, exploitative, abusive, and unsafe things the real Max has done to women during his time on this earth.
But the thing that keeps me from whole-heartedly loving This Isn’t Max Hardcore, even while I was enjoying the spectacle of the boogeyman of the boner biz getting his just desserts, was that little bit of me that wondered if this was really the best way of treating him in effigy. I mean, sure, it’s all fun and games here, so it makes it less cringe-worthy than watching an actual Max Hardcore outing (in which women are routinely facefucked unto the point of vomiting, treated like underage girls, verbally degraded, and fucked so hard it’s a wonder they’re not split open). Max is like the monstrous spectre of pornography your parents always warned you about: the shadowy figure looming in the background of every would-be porn star’s mind. And he more than lived up to the legend. He went so far he got himself jailed on obscenity charges. But it kind of makes me feel the same way Inglourious Basterds did when the American Jews killed the fuck out of Hitler. On the one hand, yeah, laughing about these things is one of the best ways to make them seem less scary. Like Mel Brooks said when The Producers opened in Berlin, “Not only should we laugh at Hitler, we must laugh at him,” because ridicule is the best way to disrespect and defame.
Not that I am putting Max Hardcore on the same level as Hitler — I mean, nobody’s as bad as Hitler (except maybe Stalin or Mussolini, but eh, that’s all in the past, right?). Hardcore did some really gross and offensive things to some girls, but he’s not Holocausting anyone. But the same principle applies as far as ridiculing the monster goes — is it best to make fun of Hardcore, to show him getting worked over in effigy to gratify those who were offended by him? Or is it just the easy way out?
This Isn’t Max Hardcore made me question the issue with Hardcore in the first place. The man allegedly did horrible things to young women, yet without the aspect of play that makes this video entertaining. Is that ok? I don’t know. It’s fun to take the piss out of Max Hardcore, but is this situation one that should be lightened up? I mean, the girls in Max Hardcore movies sometimes cry, gag, vomit, and beg to be let go. Even if it’s all in play, even if they’re really just saying that because it’s in the script, some of the things he did on film were truly upsetting to someone like me, who loves and respects women. And that seems, well, not ok. Not at all. Maybe we shouldn’t be laughing.
It’s hard to say if what Hardcore did merited him going to jail — after all, just how much protection should the First Amendment give us in situations where women are being violently violated on film? — and it’s harder to say if it was right or wrong or somewhere in between. But I think in the end it’s a good thing someone — Debi Diamond, specifically — was willing to make this video. Saying, “Fuck you, Hardcore, here’s our revenge,” but also laughing about it. It’s a good first step. —Miss Lagsalot
Check it out here.