Voodoo Lust – The Possession (1989)

There are not, so far as I’m aware, too many movies set specifically on the island of Haiti in 1936. And even fewer of these demand a XXX billing. But Voodoo Lust – The Possession is one of those films that more than compensates for the lack of competition, by virtue of being so much fun that nobody else could even touch it.
     Released in 1989, Voodoo Lust was the work of Peter Davy, at the very dawn of his career – Dreams In The Forbidden Zone was his only major work beforehand. Yet in terms of cinematography, it has a quality that modern directors would do well to emulate, a not-quite-soft focus sheen that transforms every set into a sensual palace, and then transports the cast in a similar direction. Indeed, if it were not for hairstyles that reduce at least half of the cast into body doubles for either Stevie Nicks or one of Kajagoogoo (Peter North, I’m talking about you), it would be difficult to fault any aspect of the production, adult fare or otherwise.
     Scenes blend together seamlessly; native drumming and wild, evil laughter punctuate the mounting frenzy; and if you need any other aural stimulation, download Dr John’s “Walk On Gilded Splinters” and play it on a 90 minute loop. It fits the film like your favorite pants.
     The plot is simple. Anthropologist Dr Robert (the leonine Jon Martin) has the hots for ace student Meg (Rachel Ryan), and in the guise of guiding her towards a doctorate thesis on voodoo, spends his time reading aloud from a diary that his father kept of a visit to Haiti in the 1930s. A visit that brought him into the clutches of the Grand Mambo, Dutches Grande (the magnificent Nina de Ponca) and her consort, the seemingly simple King Gregory (Ray Victory). Practitioners, of course, of a breed of voodoo that has no interest at all in chicken bones and blood. not when there’s cocks and pussies, sucking and fucking, and orgasms-a-go-go to strive for.
     Flashbacks to the hot bodied torments to which his father was subjected (OMG she’s sucking his cock!  How evil!) are then combined with present-day sequences in which Meg’s boyfriend Roger (North) courts her disapproval with his philandering ways, while the Grand Mambo’s grand daughter, the Dutches Petite (de Poncia again) seduces the Doctor with her own pledge that he will get the girl of his dreams.
     Okay, so maybe it’s not that simple. What is undeniable, however, is the sheer strength of the sex scenes because… well, I wouldn’t swear to it. But I seriously doubt that they were scripted, and they certainly weren’t choreographed in the manner that modern directors seem to feel is so crucial. More than one scene is given whole new emphasis by one or other character’s natural responses to whatever’s going on, most notably Kassi Nova’s giggled whispers during her scene with the cheating Roger.
     There is also a magnificent sequence, staged as an aside to the main plot, where a gadabout wastrel named Carl Pelletier (played by Marc Wallice) seduces the wealthy young Madame Dumont (Viper), and brings the Mambo’s wrath down upon himself in the process. Viper’s transformation from an absolute shrinking virgin when Pelletier first gets her alone, into a cock hungry vixen who downs his cum in one at the end of the scene, is played perfectly, no matter how unbelievable its reality might (and I stress, might) seem; and from there into a calculating bitch with her own temporary voodoo powers. She is phenomenal throughout, and in this scene is upstaged only by the luscious de Ponca, as she caresses and kisses a very live snake.
     And again, we return to the sheer honesty of the scenes here, and remember what the XXX world was like before someone, somewhere, decided that what we really want to watch is a couple of mechanoids going through the motions, and doing exactly the same things to one another as another couple did in the film you watched last week. And a third pair will pull off in the movie you’ve planned for tomorrow night.
     Avoid this movie like the plague, I say, if you want to see orifices filled with bitter spit, and cocksuckers choking on a throat full of bile. There’s no gagging or vomit, and no gaping assholes – in fact, the one scene of anal, a skillful DP, is one of the most beautiful sequences in the whole movie, and that despite there being a slew of lengthy blowjobs (Nova and North, Viper and Wallace, and any time de Ponca goes near an erection) that blow most other celluloid suckings out of the room altogether.
     So that’s Voodoo Lust – which is not simply the best porn movie I’ve ever seen set in Haiti in 1936; it’s in my own Top Ten of the best XXX’s ever. And that was before Peter North got turned into rabbit. And no, not one of the battery-operated ones, either.

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