Why do you like what you like? It’s easy to explain the movies, music, food, or whatever category of things we use to define our tastes. This isn’t the case for porn. When I was asked to review porn, my first instinct was to find a clever angle, because it felt weird and vulnerable to sincerely examine the stuff I’ve only privately experienced. Don Jon got it right when it outlined Jon’s porn habit: find a safe place, indulge every whim, finish, sterilize everything, deny your addiction/identity if ever confronted. Porn’s hypocritical taboo makes it easy for us to ignore a big aspect of our sexuality, an aspect that becomes more autonomous the more it’s removed from the public sphere. That’s no good, and certainly no fun, so here’s the Snow White porn “parody,” treated like any other movie.
Is there someone in a brick and mortar adult bookstore (the question should end there) who sees a DVD box with balloon-tittied Riley Steele getting buttf*cked, XXX all over the place, but it’s not until the word “parody” that they think “Ohh, I thought this was Disney’s Snow White!!” I want to believe that there’s some industry explanation behind “parody,” otherwise it seems like Axel Braun doesn’t get what parody is. There’s nothing wrong with that, with porn that isn’t parody. I don’t need to laugh at my porn. In fact, I rarely do until I recognize your mom’s callused ringpiece, but if you’re going to call it a parody, you could at least make it funny.
Sex is fun! How hard could it be to insert some comedy? Dub in some queefs, have someone slip on a banana peel into an oversized vagina, or pay for some CGI and make the butts spit back! Snow White takes place in the middle ages or something? Ok, cool. How about some “oh yeah f*cketh me, Sir Hymanrip” or “presenteth thy maidenbags for mine unspeakable glaze!” I dunno, I’m just spitballin’ here. Instead, Snow White: An Axel Braun Parody is a series of five sex scenes, separated by brief collisions of who-cares plot and well-what-did-you-expect acting, all in a running time of 135 minutes (!!!).
Scene I
The Evil Queen, played by the deliberately lowercase jessica drake, summons two nymphs to bone her husband until he has a heart attack (Hell Yeah, Brah, Smothered In Pussy!). Kinda weird that he stays in his Party City “King” costume the whole time, dopey hat included. Not to mention the fact that for two magically-generated f*ck-fairies, their sex is pretty vanilla. I get it, though. Pacing, right? By the end we’ll probably have a train of dwarves with Snow White on the end, right? While the evil hag plows herself with a warty green dildo, right?
Scene II
The Evil Queen tells Snow White (Riley Steele) that the King boned his heart out, but she doesn’t believe it. The frenzied whims I’ve developed from internet porn—skip to this, back a little bit, check out how long they do that, next, back, new tab, new tab, new tab—doesn’t work with DVDs. My computer could barely recognize the thing, much less navigate with the swift flippancy of my id, so I can’t skip all this. Anyhoo, male mistress Underbite Bowlcut enters the Evil Queen’s chambers, and she’s all “Uhh, I didn’t summon you to have sex :\” but he’s all “LOL you did now :}}” and starts munchin’ on dat ass.
It’s difficult to characterize consent in a genre based on hyper-sex between ‘roided-up meatbags, but the rapeyness is weird. If that doesn’t bother you, and you’re into floppy dongs, this scene should be your favorite, because it looks like Underbite’s working at 60% the whole time. Who can blame him? He’s got most of his clothes on, the Evil Queen’s got most of her clothes on. Could withholding her stomach build that much anticipation when we’ve already seen her b-hole get slammed? Who knows, man? Sexuality is complex. Truly a captivating intersection of intimacy, aggression, trust, vulnerability, farce, and mystery. Maybe it’s a flexible form of love. Maybe it’s nothing more than physical communication. Either way… it’s beautiful.
He oozes on her face.
Scenes III and IV
While Underbite takes Snow White to Somewhere Land, the Evil Queen talks to her mirror, which then comes alive as a man with bangles and beads and a boner. They do the nasty, but nothing we haven’t seen literally immediately prior. At least I think so. It’s hard to keep track of all these hairless pink slabs smacking each other. He provides her with a poison apple, then oozes on her face. As part of the Evil Queen’s revenge plan(?) she gets Snow White to go down on her in a creepy dungeon/laser tag room/Snow White’s mind. They fingerbang with really long fingernails as if that’s not sphincter-clinchingly precarious. Bonus points for the Evil Queen’s buttplug that looks like the hilt of a sword.
Scene V
Snow White and Prince Guy have sex in a stereotypical dream-land. It’s white and glowing and the music is almost inappropriately orchestral. Mozart or some shit. The sex is refreshingly slow, balanced, lots of dissolves and euphoric facial expressions, but at one point Mr. Prince says of SNOW White’s sloppy beej, “it… feels like snow…” Awww yeah, ice cold. The perfect blowjob. It’s like they tried to make the scene more appealing for women by making it more Hashtag Romantic, without actually thinking about the nuances of sexuality. At this point, the movie’s brand of macho-mechanical humping must only appeal to a sexual minority, even if you exclude women. Again, they keep their clothes on the whole time. He oozes on her face so they get married.
I know I’m not the best audience for this—I don’t buy DVDs, and to people who do: why? I don’t watch long-form porn, I grew up when porn was most available in little clips; I don’t pay for porn, because I can’t afford it; and I don’t care about pornstars, who all seem to have been reupholstered in the same shade of bleached-butthole, sweatless, hairless skin. Still, this movie is aggressively unerotic. I’m not asking for a fisheye lens closeup of queef splatter, but why is everything so sterile? Once you remove hair, sweat, and silliness and cover any body part that doesn’t have an explicitly sexual function, the humans become dispensable vehicles for generic Turgid Boners and Stark Pussies. You might as well film a dildo hammering a fleshlight.
Who knows what the budget was for this, but in the wake of dying physical media and a struggling porn industry, consider using your resources to make ridiculous movies. The only pornos I’ve learned by name are cult hits, absurd and extensive buffets of sexual feats and weird costumes. Where were the bisexuals, the dwarves, the impossible positions, the gross parts, and seriously why don’t we see that hag naked? If the appeal of the internet is amateur, free, and niche, go for maximalism.
Evan Harold is a writer living in Los Angeles. @muchevan