In Titan Media's resplendent new two tape release, Trespass, director-videographer Bruce Cam is at the top of his form. Cam's finest works have always been those that capture the primal impulses of the human animal in the primal expanses of the great outdoors, and here he has assembled a herd of prime specimens at the peak of their sexual prowess and captured the magic of lust in wide open spaces. The results are both visually and erotically awesome.
Trespass tells the tale of an escaped convict (Dred Scott) and the men who are hunting him down. It opens with Scott, chained at the ankles and wearing prison garb, hobbling his way across the picturesque countryside, then shifts to two of the men stalking him. They are lean, monster-dicked Michael Brandon and compact, stubbled Jon Galt. Soon distracted from their task, they attack each other at full-throttle in a sun-dappled meadow. There they slather each other with kisses, grab at each other's flesh and trade frenetic blowjobs before plunging into a double-time flip-flop over a fallen log. Both are gifted deep-throat artists and versatile analists who fuck each other to stratospheric heights. And all the time, furry brunet Jett Adler watches them while attacking his own rock-hard shaft. The film starts at 90 miles an hour and builds from there.
Elsewhere, on land behind a "Private Property - No Trespassing" sign, a supermacho, chestnut-haired rancher (Makos Servano) is repairing a fence. He is soon joined by a blond ranch hand (Scott Parker), who is an amazing Jude Law look-alike. Servano drops quickly to his knees, popping the buttons of Parker's faded jeans and gulping down his arrow-headed erection. In time, as Cam skillfully cross-cuts the explicit action with fugitive Scott's approach, Parker also demonstrates his own considerable oral skills. The spit-drenched sucking, with strings of saliva glistening in the midday sun, soon shifts to tongue-drilled rim jobs. And while Scott finds tools in their truck to break his chains, Servano plows Parker to an explosive orgasm (while plugged) on the tailgate. As Scott slips away, Servano and Parker are joined by another scruffy hunter, the mononamed, bearded, bald Alexandros. The ensuing threesome includes kissing, extensive foreskin play, a surfeit of spit and a variety of oral games, but the most exciting moments occur when big, butch Servano shifts gears to bottom for the newcomer.
The final sequence of the first tape finds another cowpoke (Andrew Addams) whacking off on a ladder at a water tower. The ever-randy Alexandros arrives in his pickup and again delays his search for the escapee in favor of another taste of high-noon nookie. The lengthy coupling between these two constantly inventive satyrs runs the gamut of standard male-male sex games, but it is highlighted by intermittent water sports throughout. Golden showers in the golden sunshine lubricate both the oral and anal action and are skillfully integrated into the standard sucking and fucking. Both men give and take with equal intensity, spraying each other between bouts of cock gobbling. Each is as versatile as the other, and their ass-plowing flip-flop is also interrupted again and again by fountains of piss. Never have we seen this particular kink so skillfully woven into the more standard forms of man-to-man sex.
Tape two begins with another hunter (scruffy Dan Dirk) discovering the broken chains Scott has left behind and summoning assistance from a wiry, fuzzy blond (Billy Wild). They manage to squeeze in a quick bout of head-giving before moving off in hot pursuit.
The first full scene of the second tape, however, finds the perfectly sculpted, dashingly handsome Patrick Knight frolicking in the ol' swimming hole with a buddy (dirty blond Bruce Warren). The most exquisitely lensed sequence of the film, the scene is classic Americana, X-rated Norman Rockwell.
The two pals are soon joined by Wild, and as they ravish the newcomer in virtually every way imaginable, Scott sneaks up to steal their clothing and change out of his tell-tale prison garb. This threeway simply explodes with raw passion. All three are mightily hung cocksuckers who can take each other in effortless bouts of deep-throating. (In particular, watch Knight slowly swallow Warren's throatful of a rod.) The fucking is equally as arousing. Wild eagerly takes both the others in alternating rounds of heavy drilling and fires off a snowy load while plugged. It is not until after he has left that the other two discover their clothes are missing.
Before long, new sets of clothing are brought by another ranch hand, on horseback, a blond farm boy archetype (Tom Daniels). The outstanding new face of the production, Daniels is blessed with a natural masculinity, a toned physique, a patina of golden fuzz, an innocent countenance, a better than average cock (that he hangs onto as if it were a saddle horn) and granite glutes that beg to be penetrated. (P.S. They soon are!) Knight and Warren take turns kissing, blowing,and fucking him - mostly missionary, with his cowboy boots high in the air. (And what an ineffable image that is!) In time, Daniels detonates a streamer of gism that sprays across his chest while Warren drills him and repeats the feat moments later when Knight follows suit. He is the find of the film.
In the next scene, Knight (now dressed) comes across Scott, recognizes the clothing and confronts the convict. Their tussle soon turns sexual, and thus begins the battle of the two top-billed Titans. With his shaved head, multiple tattoos and mesmeric eyes, Scott is an intimidating sight, but he proves to be a surprisingly considerate (though violently energetic) partner. And Knight matches him every thrust of the way. Each can fully deep-throat the other - no small feat - but before long the viewer becomes aware that he is about to witness the onscreen deflowering of perpetual topman Knight. It is a sight to behold! The preparations for the landmark moment, on a tarpaulin spread across a flatbed truck in the dusty middle of nowhere, are extensive: Scott tongues, spanks, kisses and teases that ass, then suddenly penetrates it to a loud moan from Knight. The rough-and-tumble fucking (in several positions) is thorough, and Knight meets every jab as if he wanted nothing more than to be screwed to oblivion. (The squat-fuck segment is especially electrifying.) Both deliver two creamy loads, but Scott's first streaming five-spurter demands the slow-motion repeat that it gets. And then, after a long embrace, Scott dresses and resumes his flight as the camera captures a single bird - an eagle, perhaps? - flying solo across the clear blue sky. This is the apex of the scene - and the film.
Anything afterward is anticlimactic, and as hot as the following scene stands on its own, it suffers by comparison. In it, Scott and Dan Dirk mix and mingle in a nasty, spit-drenched suck-and-fuck session over a bale of hay. The action segues into a long fisting session that lasts well into the night before a roaring campfire. The sequence might well have served the film better if it were placed at the end of the first tape, in which Scott does not perform sexually at all. In that slot, it might well prove to be an ideal first act curtain, but it certainly does not compare with the Scott-Knight scene, which is simply unbeatable, the perfect finale for a nigh-perfect film.
The DVD package of Trespass also includes a third two-hour disc filled with enticing extras: Three oncamera model interviews (with Addams, Galt and Alesandro, all of whom belie the idea that skin stars are inarticulate), bios of the cast and extensive Q and As with each of them, two lengthy scenes deleted from the final cut, an enticing documentary on the 14-day making of the film, another on the photo shoots by still photographer Brian Mills, a soft-core music video, extended footage of the watersports segment and a montage of the production's 25 or more cum shots.
What makes Trespass more satisfying than any Cam film since Desert Train is that here he has given his work a narrative shape that enriches the masterful sexplay and exquisite visualizations that are his greatest gifts. For most of the film's two-tape, four-hour running time, he succeeds. Only in its final moments does he stumble in bringing closure to his tale, and Trespass is just a whisker short of being a perfect explicit film.
- Jerry Douglas