Why in the salmon-hued fuck would I spend money on a blaxploitation porn parody from 1987? It may be hard to believe, but there is a multitude of reasons. A) Look at the cover art. I own the big box VHS, and it's fucking glorious. B) My soul perpetually stews in a scaturient, all-encompassing cloudburst of dolor. This morose state of unmitigated melancholia is commonly referred to as "the vapors." C) I'll buy anything that is superficially associated with Blacula, one of the most underrated vampire flicks in the annals of horror history. To be clear, Lust of Blackula is NOT related to the 1972 cult classic starring the late, great William Marshall (note the difference in spelling). It's a peripheral propinquity.
Okay, I'll ditch the fancy words for awhile. I won't make any promises, though. Let's face it; there are only so many ways to describe pornography. As for this smut reel, I was curious to find out whether or not it bothered exploring the character of Blackula. Wishful thinking? Yes, but some adult films actually try to wrap a story around anal foreplay and double penetration, so I gave the creative team behind Lust of Blackula the benefit of the doubt. In return, they gave me a cursory minute of exposition sepulchered beneath 79 minutes of pussy pounding, clit flicking and dick swallowing. Now, I'm critiquing this wank material as a horror spoof. Can you blame me? It clearly wants you to expect something above and beyond vanilla porn. Well, as a horror spoof, it sucks. Cock. It sucks cock.
Early on, we see Blackula prowling the grounds of...an edifice (I don't fucking know). He is cloaked in a swarthy cape, which serves as the barometer signifying his caste as a vampire. If it weren't for the store-bought Halloween costume, he would just be a black guy. Save for the "climax," this is the only scene where Blackula lives up to his name. There are zero kills. Lust of Blackula is fleeced of blood, garlic, crosses, bats, Gothic atmosphere and every other fixture that fans crave when they fall back on this subgenre. Granted, it's not a true horror film, but goddamn...where is the effort? Why settle on a gimmick if you're just going to hammer out a scant, straightforward porno? I want camp. I want cheap special effects. I want entertainment, for shit's sake.
The most insulting aspect of Lust of Blackula is the ending. 79 minutes of salacious copulation is followed by Blackula proclaiming, "My name is Dracula spelled backwards!" He proceeds to bite his lover's neck. The end. That's it. First of all, I thought that he was Blackula. Why is he given the moniker of Alucard? Secondly, that's it? That's it?????? We don't even get a glimpse of his motherfucking fangs until the final frame. Holy shit. As masturbation fodder, I suppose that Lust of Blackula is serviceable. To tell you the truth, the women aren't particularly attractive. Oh, Ron Jeremy fucks a couple of sluts. And Blackula has a Jamaican accent. Why am I not getting paid for this? I should throw away the tape and put the box on a mantle. Thanks a lot, Monster A Go-Go!
It's an in-joke. Pay no mind.
Posted by Dom Coccaro at 11:58 PM