Shot in Northern California's Russian River country, Hot House Entertainment's Wild Oats is a collection of four largely al fresco loops directed by Chris Ward. The performers are mostly mature, mostly hirsute, mostly weathered sex dog types. The action is, for the most part, the skilled and energetic but dispassionate work of veterans who suck and fuck by the numbers and who seem to be more interested in getting through their sexual calisthenics than in wallowing in each other. The editing (by director Ward and Jim Wigler) is jumpy and sketchy, and the viewer has a sense that he is not watching hedonistic animals at play so much as he is witnessing truncated pieces of sex scenes performed by jaded professionals who can get it up and get it off upon command. The lush settings are far more handsomely photographed (by Marc Fredrics and Leif Gobo) than the sexual action, and the music (by J.D. Slater) is unobtrusively supportive. The result is a ragged patchwork quilt that will probably appeal only to fans of one or another of the performers present.
Wild Oats begins with Marco Tibor (that ubiquitous Hungarian beauty who has appeared as Alexei Gromoff in Kristen Bjorn films, as Thomas Williams in Falcon films and under a variety of other names in other productions). As cameragenic as ever, he is first seen strolling along a backwoods lane, then skipping stones and chopping wood as a lean, worn Italian named Marco appears to watch him. Suddenly, there is a direct cut to the mononamed Marco giving head to the international star. A few moments and another direct cut later, they are in a wood-paneled cottage, and Marco is getting plowed in several positions. He even manages a no-handed money shot, but his craggy, Jack Palance-like features only highlight Gromoff-Williams-Tibor's dazzle, and there is no passion or humanity in the pieced-together scene, just two sex machines chugging along, each in his own private world. The glorious Hungarian almost makes it work, but he is thwarted at every turn by all the other elements of the scene.
In the second episode, Dean Maxwell and Mark Evrett stroll through the woods, get into position between the V of two tree trunks, hit their marks and with no preliminaries start to fuck. Both are brunets with close-cropped hair and furry bodies, and they are not always distinguishable. (Evrett's skin is paler, and he has more facial hair.) Evrett, usually the ultimate bottom, here tops with his customary energy, and before long they are joined by Buck Phillips, who is also a brunet with short-cropped hair. He wanders up and, without a word or any form of acknowledgment, steps into position and promptly plugs into Evrett for a sandwich. Evrett drives the scene with his energetic skills, but the three might as well be parts of the mechanism of a clock. The sequences is strikingly photographed scenery-wise, but the action is not well captured. It ends with a bit of pro forma cocksucking, and Philips again proves himself to be an impressive deepthroat artist. But the money shots are modest, and Evrett doesn't come at all.
The third scene, in the Jacuzzi and on the deck of a summer home, is played out in cold blue light to suggest that it is night. Here, Philips again and skinhead Lance Gear are already in the throes of sexplay upon fade-in. More than anyone else in the film, Gear seems to get into it, first chowing down on Philips' meat with the abandon of a dog with a bone. He also spews out a never-ending, totally believable raunch rap that livens things up considerably. He is a tornado that Philips has to work overtime to keep up with. After they trade slobbery blow jobs, Philips tops Gear in several positions before both explode, Gear while plugged. His orgasm is effective, but Philips' money shot, which is meager to begin with, is shot with two cameras, neither of which is in optimum position to capture it.
The final scene features Philips, Gear, the bald and bearded Steve Hurley and the blond and crewcut Eli Horst. Most of the scene is devoted to a three-way on the tailgate of a pickup truck out in the middle of nowhere, but Horst eventually joins the others for the final moments of the scene. Philips does the yeoman's share of the sucking as Hurley tortures his own tits and Gear rattles off another raunch rap. (All three have intermittent erection maintenance problems.) There is little variety in the sexual choreography or the videography, and the oral action - in spite of Hurley's Prince Albert - is standard stuff. Things improve considerably when Hurley plows into Philips, first in missionary position and then standing doggie, and Philips' messy money shot while plugged is the highlight of the scene.
Inexplicably, there is another direct cut to Horst, suddenly a part of the group, shoving an oversized dildo into Gear's willing asshole and mouth. The scene is brief, and Gear is soft throughout, but Horst's splatter shot is strong. Another direct cut, and the four men are seen in tableau staring off at one of the calendar-art vistas as the film fades to black.
- Jerry Douglas