Over the years, an inordinately small number of explicit films focusing on firefighters have been made - Playing with Fire 1 and 2, Engine 69, The Fireman Next Door, Hot Firemen and Fire Pump come to mind - so any addition to this narrow sub-genre is welcome. The latest, from the Falcon International Collection, is called Red Hot, and though it doesn't fully utilize its milieu or uniforms, it is comprised of four incendiary sex scenes.
In the opener, the chief (Remus Orza, a tradey brunet with chiseled features) summons a rookie (Franco Corsini, a baby-faced blond with a pillowy ass) to his office. First, the chief calls the newcomer's attention to the camaraderie of the men who live together in such close quarters and then proceeds to demonstrate. In a whisk, the two are locked together in mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, and Corsini has knelt to service his superior. He is an excellent cocksucker, and his tongue is a marvel to behold. It seems to have a life of its own, like a wriggling newborn platypus. It slathers Orza's hairy physique, soaks down his hefty, uncut cock and practically crawls into his hairy asshole. Though Corsini's ministrations are not reciprocated, his bravura oral talents more than compensate for Orza's do-me stance.
And then they fuck. Orza is a strong if uninspired top, but the potency of the scene is almost exclusively due to Corsini's reactions. We can easily believe that we are witnessing his actual deflowering, for his expressions of wonderment in discovering the plain-pleasure syndrome of anal sex for the first time seem totally believable. He comes while plugged, too.
This opening scene, like the entire film, is handsomely lensed and peppered with close-ups, not only of the explicit action but also the facial reactions. Like most four-sequence films, however, each shot and position goes on too long to pad out the running time, and this reviewer, for one, longs for the good, old days of the six-episode film.
The second vignette is set in a shower and features first-billed George Vidanov and Janos Volt, both of whom are familiar faces who have worked under a variety of names for numerous Eastern European directors. The sequence begins with Vidanov soaping up with a hand-held shower, the nozzle of which soon finds its way into his ready rectum for adventures in douching. Vidanov is a born exhibitionist who loves the camera almost as much as it loves him. For him, the intake and the expulsion are clearly arousing, but the business goes on much too long before Volt joins him.
Both men are among the finest to appear on the European scene, and they go at each other with a gusto that is rarely captured on film. Each seems determined to outdo the other in a whirlwind of frenetic cocksucking, though (like most Eastern Europeans) deep-throating is not in either's sexual repertoire. The anal action begins with Vidanov slamming Volt into the white-tiled wall for a potent standing fuck, but the real fun begins when he puts a condom in his own mouth and slides it onto Volt's waiting erection, then sits on it to complete the free-wheeling flip-flop. Both deliver explosive money shots.
The third explicit sequence is set in the dormitory where four men are marking time between blazes. Their restlessness soon turns sexual, and they initially split into pairs on adjoining cots. The two blonds (the beefy, peasant-like Adam Gossett and the wiry, boy-next-door-type Jozsef Kovacs) and the two brunets (the glossily handsome Miklos Soledad, with his extravagant shoulder tattoo, and the solid, stolid John Valko) quickly demonstrate their extensive oral skills.
All are equally enthusiastic, blue ribbon sexpigs, but (as George Orwell once said) some pigs are more equal than others, and Gossett certainly is a pig among pigs. Clearly, he is ingtigued by all things sexual - one never knows what he is going to do next. The anal action, in which all four mix and mingle in a variety of configurations does not sizzle quite as much as the oral, but Soledad and Gossett prove to be obliging bottoms, and Kovacs rims with the precision of an electric drill. All deliver strong money shots, but Soledad's four-streamer fusillade is best, splattering his chest and chin.
The finale, a three-way, takes place after hours, when Nikolas Kiss invites two of his buddies, Alex Lambert and Marko Pacyna, into his home for a drink. Lambert (one of the very best of the Eurotrash stars, who also has worked under a variety of names) performs as heatedly as expected, kissing, sucking, rimming and fucking with a zest that seems totally real, his infectious smile a barometer of his lubricious delight. Kiss, a dirty blond body-builder who is a newcomer to this reviewer, is quite simply the find of the film. At first, he merely watches the other two and plays with himself (and his thick, beer-can dick is something to play with!), but soon he has entered into the fray. He sucks his partners hungrily and ends up in the middle of a sandwich, sucking and getting fucked by the alternating others. Best of all, he is a gutter-mouthed trash talker, and though we do not understand a word of what he says, we get the idea! He also delivers the most explosive money shot of the film. He is someone to remember.
Footage of the various performers at work, sliding down poles, riding the bright red fire truck, fighting flames and wearing their dark rubbery gear is limited to the webbing between sex scenes. The explicit action, however, is played out in generic settings, and the performers could be portraying paramedics, cops or college students. As a result, the film turns out to be not so much for fireman fetishists as it does for the mainstream adult audience. And how can we complain about that?
- Jerry Douglas