A Night At The Adonis

A Night at the Adonis - 1977

Directed by Jack Deveau.

Starring: Jack Wrangler, Milo, Jayson McBride, Tommy Ruscica, Chris Michaels, Eartha Hugee.

Back in the disco-wonderland days of the late 70’s porn films were only accessible to the general public at theatres. Granted, most of these grind houses were sleazy little places usually located in the wrong part of town, but amongst the “wank palaces” (as a friend of mine from back in the day referred to them), there were some pretty impressive movie houses that ran porn, one of them was the Adonis theatre in New York City.

Originally built in 1921 by Broadway impresario, Billy Rose, and known as The Tivoli, the theatre stood empty a few years (the victim of the television boom in the late 50’s and early 60’s) and then in 1974 it reopened as The Adonis, and was known to be one of the most popular establishments of its time.

Imagine what it was like back then cruising for sex in a theatre replete with elaborate staircases, sunken lounges, an orchestra pit and a balcony … well, if you’re curious, by all means, check out Jack Deveau’s A Night at the Adonis.

This brilliant little movie opens with a shot of the theatre’s marquee coming to life, lights blinking and swirling in the Manhattan twilight. A Donna Summer sound-a-like croons a ballad, the opening credits run, and from there we follow young, Joe (an adorable looking guy with longish feathered hair) into the movie palace where he meets with his supervisor so that he can start his new job as a theatre employee. Interestingly enough, while he is being interviewed, Joe tells his boss that he has a degree in “gay business management” (gee, I wonder where he went to school?).

Meanwhile, outside the movie-house, the patrons have queued up to wait for the show to start. But first, they must remain until the theatre’s ticket taker (a heavy-set, heavily made up African American woman billed as Eartha Hugee), grants them entrance. In between bites of what appears to be an extremely overstuffed Reuben sandwich, Ms. Hugee allows a few of the men in at a time while tossing off sassy remarks about their style of dress.

In another part of town, in a small men’s store, we meet salesman, Donald (Jack Wrangler) telling a customer that he has no recommendations as to what to wear to a Star Wars party, and upon showing him the door, proceeds to close up shop for the night. A quick exchange with a co-worker Ray (Milo) reveals that Wrangler has a thing for his partner in polyester goods, but Ray’s got other ideas and tells Wrangler that he’s getting his hair cut, and is then going to be reading, “Gay American History”, a book that was recommended to him.

Before too long, we are with Milo and his coiffure, Louis (Jayson McBride). After the haircut, the fellows engage in a rather energetic fuck using the salon’s adjustable chair to every advantage. After Milo leaves, McBride decides that he really wants to see him again, but when he tries to call him he discovers that his object of desire is unlisted, so he decides to head on out to the Adonis himself for a night of carousing and cruising.

Back at the theatre, the assembled men (each one a distinctive “type”) are busy getting to know each other. A cute young punk is getting a blow job by a well dressed man in a three piece suit; an extremely handsome guy wearing nothing but a large overcoat is flashing prospective lovers; and a leather man is dry humping a rather preppy looking type at the juice bar.

While all of this is going on, A Night…begins to fool with the viewer’s perspective a bit by showing us rather graphic sex scenes that are being projected on the screen in the theatre proper. But after a while, it actually enhances the experience when we realize that what is happening on film, is going to be somewhat replicated in real life (which is of course a movie). Pretty creative stuff for a porn film.

Finally, Wrangler arrives at the theater and after talking to Joe (when he meets him, Wrangler has a great line in, “Hi, I’m Don, I’m in men’s clothes.”) and bragging about how much sex he has had over the years at The Adonis, he hooks up with the hairdresser. The two guys end up in the basement of the theatre, and here, Wrangler puts McBride through the motions, fucking him in an animalistic fashion that is rarely ever seen in modern day gay erotic video. Make no mistakes, Jack Wrangler loved what he did, and, boy howdy, he was damn good at it. Take a look at McBride’s face while Wrangler is plowing him; the poor guy actually goes cross-eyed at one point.

Meanwhile, the men’s room at the Adonis is seeing more action than Senator Larry Craig ever dreamed of.

One guy is getting fist fucked (ouch!), while a very handsome African American man is screwing the life out of a faceless white bottom boy; a couple of hippies are making out while another guy kneels before them taking turns at their dicks in quick succession. Soon the entire john is filled with sweaty bodies and pulsating action.

Meanwhile, Remember Milo and his reading? Well, he soon grows bored with his book and trucks on down to the Adonis and before long he is also involved in some bathroom hijinx.

Well, it does not take long for Wrangler to stumble into the bathroom, and as he spies the other guys doing the nasty, he dives right in and in a matter of seconds, he’s got one dude at each of his nipples and another on his johnson – and this is where A Night at the Adonis, reaches its apex: as the men enjoy each other, it becomes very clear that this communal camaraderie, this carnival of sex, was more than about just getting off. The looks on the various men’s faces is of sheer pleasure, no one seems to be going through the motions, nothing is robotic, no, this was celebratory sex during an age that knew no limits and while the principals understood they were being filmed, it is clear that they relished and delighted not only in the sexual aspects of what they were doing, but in the seeming brotherhood they shared. As each and every one of them reaches a climax, their faces reveal a look of one who has just gone on a journey with like minded collaborators.

When the orgy ends, Joe (remember Joe?) enters the men’s room to find all of the occupants’ leisurely milling about, he seems bewildered at first, and then relaxes and smiles. And then Wrangler sees Milo and asks him, “So this is Gay American History?” and Milo smirks at his co-worker but assures him that he will never have sex with him. Wrangler ponders this for a moment and then sees Joe being undressed and caressed by a couple of the other men in the room. Wrangler shrugs his shoulders at Milo and in a classic case of sour grapes, he glances over at the young theatre employee, whose cock is now jutting forth and says, “Forget it, I’m mesmerized”, and he approaches the young shaggy haired youth and goes down on him as the scene fades out.

Meanwhile, the hairdresser (who dozed off in the balcony) wakes up and makes his way out of the theatre only to find Milo leaving from another door. The guys look at each other, smile, and head off into the night as the closing credits roll.

A Night at the Adonis is indeed Gay American History. Even if some would like to deny it, the film is a very honest reflection of an era when gay men finally felt unfettered enough to explore, a time when sexual experimentation and multiple partners was not anything out of the ordinary, it was the norm. Again, the irony of the film taking place in a movie theatre, and then being shown at other adult movie houses should not be lost on the viewer. Art imitated life, imitating art.

The actual Adonis theatre is no longer around. It was sold and demolished in 1990, the victim of the home video revolution and the AIDS crisis (as well as the gentrification of New York City), and that is really a shame. One wonders why a gorgeous theatre like the Adonis was not saved as some sort of historical landmark, not only because of its early years as the very place where Fanny Brice and George Burns performed, but also as a reminder of a time when sexual fantasy transcended the silver screen and made it’s way into the seats, the balconies, the men’s room and the hallways of it’s opulent self.

As I understand it, the location where the Adonis once stood is now a condominium complex.

On a technical note, the first time I saw this film, I distinctly recall the soundtrack was filled with standards from the 30’s and 40’s – the video copy I have has none of that music on it, it has all been replaced by generic disco tunes. However that is a minor complaint. A Night at the Adonis should be required viewing not only for the connoisseur of gay porn, but also for those who want to really know what Gay American life was like in the mid 70’s. Love it or hate it, that’s the way it went down.

Noirotica

 Casey Donovan

 Peter Berlin

 Classic Gang bang

 Jack Wrangler and The Christy Twins....From "Night at the Adonis"

 Classic Three-some

 Classic Cock Sucker

Classic Rough Stuff

Kansas City Trucking Company

In the 70’s, road pictures were big business. Films like, Smokey and the Bandit, The Vanishing Point, Race with the Devil, and Duel (as well as dozens of others) explored the call of the open road and the various pleasures and hazards that accompany the black top cowboy’s wanderlust.  Songs like, Convoy, Amelia and Born to Run, all from that era, added to the romance and mystique of the journeyman and his or her relationship with travel.

You’d have never guessed that gas was being rationed during this time due to oil embargos!

Joining the gas guzzling craze in the world of gay porn was 1976’s, Kansas City Trucking Company, a film that would eventually spawn two sequels (El Paso Wrecking Corp and L.A. Tool and Die).

Kansas City…is first and foremost an actual film with a plot, characters and decent camera work. It tells the story of Hank (the uber-macho, Richard Locke) a trucker, and his new travel companion, Joe (the hippie-ish, Steve Boyd).

The film starts with an expansive view of the American open highway and a rather curious soundtrack featuring a radio announcer touting a book called, Born Again (written by Watergate scandal figure Charles Colson), as the announcer describes this tome, the camera continues showing us views of roads until finally we see the 18 wheeler that is being piloted by Hank. After the radio ad finishes, Hank switches off the radio and says, “Shit”; the film cuts to black, the title comes up and the fun begins…

We now see Hank strolling through a truck parking lot; his shirt unbuttoned revealing an expanse of fur on his chest that looks like Empire Carpet installed it. Then we cut to the interior of the lot’s office where we discover Jack (played by Jack Wrangler, probably the ultimate gay porn star of all time, in my humble opinion), jerking off. As Jack tugs on his member, the camera cuts back and forth between Jack and Hank until finally Hank enters the office and Jack is all zipped up and all business.

Finally Hank and Jack get down to brass tacks as Jack tells him about his new partner, Joe. After Hank ponders the idea of a new kid he says, “Are you telling me to break him in, or turn him out?” Jack replies, “That’s up to you.” --- and with that the camera goes in on a close up of Gage’s Hank (who looks just like Kris Kristofferson) and the next thing you know, he is fantasizing about having his way with Jack – damn, watching these two go at it, is akin to staring into the sun, these guys are so damn hot, it might burn the eyes out of your head. Jack Wrangler and Richard Locke were a couple of sex machines, so If you like your men, sweaty, hairy and pig-like (as in attitude), you are going to love this scene!

Back to reality; we see that Jack and Hank are still discussing the load that is to be trucked to L.A. (gee I wonder what it might be? Platform shoes, puka shell necklaces, crates of 8-track tapes???). And then we cut to Joe being driven to the parking lot by his girlfriend (Marie Reina – who is a dead ringer for Katharine Ross—and again, I asked myself, who was this woman’s agent, that would score her a non-sexual role in a gay porn film), they kiss passionately good bye (to establish that little Joey is straight, no doubt), and then Joe makes his way to the office.

Steven Boyd’s Joe is a tall, lanky thing with head full of jet black hair and the face of a stoned angel. He looks the quintessential mid-70’s dude, sex on a stick with far away eyes.

Quicker than you can say, “10-4, good buddy, you got your ears on”, Hank and Joe are riding off and Hank begins to school the young guy in the rules of the road. That is to say, Hank tells Joe that he is going to be horny most of the time, and if he so desires he should just whip out his Johnson and have it – no problem (well, he does not actually say it that way, but you catch my drift). Joe seems a bit taken back at Hank’s frankness and stares out blankly on the road, as does the viewer…

… we follow an anonymous cowboy in his souped up convertible who picks up an equally anonymous blond-boy hitchhiker (wearing an impossibly short tight pair of jean cut-offs) and the duo make their way to a side road to engage in all kinds of carnal goings-on.

First the blond straddles the hood of the convertible and masturbates to a climax shooting his spunk all over the car’s windshield while the cowboy stays in the car tugging away at his own prick. Then the guys move on with the cowboy riding his hitchhiker like a bucking bronco – this is a scorching, non mechanical sex scene that might leave you breathless.

Back to the truck, we now find Hank driving and fantasizing about Jack back at the office. The fantasy sequence finds Jack Wrangler bathed in soft light while he brings himself to climax… this scene is shot so beautifully and Wrangler, like always, is a pleasure to behold (if you don’t know who Jack Wrangler is, then turn in your gay-card now!). Then we immediately cut to Joe who is reading a girlie magazine. The camera keeps focusing back on Hank who is literally staring a hole into Joe’s crotch. Deciding that it’s now or never, the trucker reaches over and grabs his silent partner’s goods and tells him to whack off.

They pull over to the side of the road and both men whip out their equipment and go at it. Interestingly enough, focus is mostly kept on Hank’s face (and it should be noted that Richard Locke could say more with a longing look than any silent movie star ever dreamed). He seems to convey lust, longing and desire with out saying a word. Eventually we are treated to Hank’s view of Joe, who is pounding his pud like a mad man now (note that Steve Boyd is hung like the proverbially horse – damn!). The scene now switches with primary focus on Joe, and once more the only soundtrack is radio static and the sound of traffic.

Then Hank closes his eyes and imagines Joe and Jack going at it. While this could have been probably one of the hottest scenes in the film, it is sadly too short and nothing more than a tease. But Boyd and Wrangler make a beautiful coupling even if it is briefly.

When this scene is over, we follow more back road shenanigans. This time we come across a couple of guys who pull into an old shack and discover a naked handsome stranger waiting for them (if life were only like this) and within seconds Kansas City Trucking goes from an erotic, atmospheric film to a dirty-rocks-off-skin-flick: that is to say, the threesome engage in some of the raunchiest, raw, animalistic fucking you might have ever seen. This is by far the film’s most exciting moment and its shot beautifully with the orange glow of a setting sun chasing the shadows of the shack and its lusty inhabitants. The three men involved screw each other to numerous messy climaxes and I’ll bet the walls of that shack were dripping with cum when they finished up.

After this we find ourselves in a dark bunkhouse where Joe has gone to sleep off his trip…and now it’s his turn to fantasize.

Turns out that our boy might not be as straight as we were lead to believe as he dreams up an orgy that includes him, Hank and the various other men he spied during the day.

The orgy is shot mostly in shadow with body parts being illuminated only momentarily until they fade … after a bit the viewer is not sure who is doing what to whom, but there is no denying that it is pure sexual overdrive going on from the muffled cries and whispers of the participants. The entire scene is orchestrated almost musically, leading to a crescendo of faces scrunched up in orgasmic bliss, and body fluids spraying through the air like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

The dream ends suddenly for Joe who wakes up when he hears some one call his name. Steven Boyd’s boyishly handsome face fills the screen and he stares straight ahead. Is he scared that he has come to grips with his true feelings? Is he relieved? Does he even care? That’s up to the viewer. And then that beautiful face fades out and the end credits roll to the sound of traffic in the distance.

Kansas City Trucking Company, while not flawless, is one of those rare instances where the filmmaker tried to do something more than just create a skin flick. There is atmosphere galore, as well as a healthy dose of gritty realism. None of the men in this movie look like fashion models. You won’t see any plucked eyebrows or tan lines. What you will see are realistic looking people having realistic looking sex. More than that, you might smell the open road, feel the sun baking your skin, and definitely wonder why they can’t make porno’s this well anymore.

Jack Attack

Killing Me Softly: 1977 (re-released as Killing Me Gently: 1979)

Unlike the rather tongue in cheek, gay porn films of the 70’s that featured a lot of double entendre, heavy doses of camp, and more than just a bit of bitchy humor, 1979’s Killing Me Softly (no doubt titled after the Fox and Gimble penned hit for Roberta Flack) is about as uplifting as a Bergman film. That said, it is also a vibrant, sensual and historically compelling piece that stays with viewer long after the last frame has faded to black.

Starring Stan Richards as the goatee sporting drifter, Charles Mandell, and the undisputed king of Golden Age Gay Porn, Jack Wrangler as the love struck Broadway actor, Phil Jordan; Killing Me Softly weaves a tale of murder, desperation and self sacrifice in New York City during the tale end of the heady disco era.

Charles Mandell (as a narrator tells us) is coming into the Big Apple from the Bahamas for a vacation, or so it might seem. But why no luggage, no change of clothes? Could it be that the demonically handsome drifter has something else on his mind? Our first hint that something is amiss is a newspaper headline about a group of gay men murdered in the Bahamas … ah, death takes a holiday?

It does not take long for Charles to meet up with the blond haired beauty, Phil Jordan, who is strolling the docks shirtless. Instantly the men notice each other and cupid’s arrow seems to strike, and for a few moments, the happy duo walk arm in arm, shot in a gauzy haze while syrupy music plays for a soundtrack – it’s all rather like a commercial for some, as yet unheard of, gay dating service.

Be that as it may; before too long, the boys go back to Phil’s place and as soon as Wrangler releases his legendary tool, they get down to business.

You’ve heard me mention before that no body, but nobody, did on-screen-sex as good as Jack Wrangler, and once more we get to see the master in all his glory. Jack’s Phil looks to be in heaven as he is being serviced by his new buddy, and when Stan’s Charles mounts him, it looks like Wrangler might be having a moment of pure mind blowing gratification. To be sure, Stan Richards power fucks like nobody’s business. But as the guys are busy getting busy, the camera slowly pans over to a coffee table strewn with magazines and a newspaper with a headline that screams, POLICE BAFFLED OVER GAY MURDERS.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in town, a Gay pride celebration is in full swing and for the next five minutes or so, one gets to see what these celebrations looked like back in the day. The eagle eyed viewer will, no doubt, catch a glimpse of a young man holding up a sign in the shape of an orange that reads, Anita Bryant Sucks (and for those of you who have no idea what that is all about, do a Google search). In any case, into the crowd strolls Phil and Charles looking happy, and for a few brief moments, everything seems right with the world… until the camera pans down to a discarded newspaper on the sidewalk with another headline about the gay murders.

In the next scene we find Charles and another guy walking into an abandoned building. At first we assume it is Phil, but when the camera reveals his face, it is actually a stranger. Before long, they are making out and soon retreat to a bathroom to finish the deed. And here is where Charles shows his true stripes; as soon as he shoots his load into his anonymous partner’s mouth, he reaches for a jock strap that is in his back pocket and chokes his trick to death with it. In a gruesome coda to this moment, the camera lingers on the young man’s face as semen dribbles from his lips while he lay dead on the floor. Yeah, it’s a pretty disgusting shot.

At this point, a voice over narrator explains that Charles can only achieve sexual satisfaction by killing his sex partners. However, he is conflicted as he truly is falling in love with Phil, and does not want to hurt him.

Aw gee, what’s a poor psychopath to do?

Luckily for our killing antihero, he is in the naked city and there are victims a-plenty.

Charles next dupe is a hunky construction worker who invites him up to his apartment, and sure as hell, after he puts him through the paces by throwing another monster fuck into the guy, he chokes him to death, leaving another naked and dead body behind.

The very next scene in Killing Me Softly is one that might quite literally blow your mind when you consider what it took to set it up. Basically we find Charles waiting on the walkway of the Brooklyn Bridge. He is looking out on the Manhattan skyline and seems to be considering jumping, to end his murderous ways – but just then he spies a jogger coming his way, and without so much as a tip of the hat or a proper introduction, he nabs the running man, rips his shorts off him and has his way with him. Now, keep in mind, this is two men fucking upright, on the Brooklyn Bridge, in broad daylight with cars whizzing by below them and bikers and joggers zipping by them just a few feet away (one biker actually glides right past the two of them – in frame!). How they did this without getting arrested is beyond me. This is a startling piece of cinematography, one that proves that MTV’s Jackass still has a long way to go.

If the location were not enough, the sex between the two men is formidable. At this point, Richards is beginning to actually look crazed (his eyebrows arched, smiling insanely), and the guy he’s screwing seems to be screaming bloody murder (though he is tugging on his own rod the entire time, so make of that what you will). Of course we know where this is going, and once more, another strangling occurs and a dead body is left bare assed on the bridge’s walkway (though I thought it would have been more cinematic had the body been tossed off the bridge, but I doubt anyone had any kind of budget to afford effects like that).

So where has Phil been during all of this?

Out of town in a show it seems, though he comes back in time to discover that the police have linked his boyfriend to the murders according to the headline in the paper.

Horrified over what he now knows, Phil waits at home until Charles shows up. He tells him that he knows, and the he will not call the police. Why? Because he loves him.
Ah, isn’t that sweet. Err; no actually, it’s kind of sick.

None the less, Phil proposes that they have sex “one last time”, and just before they go at it, he goes and pours his mentally unstable boyfriend a drink (which he spikes with a couple of pills) and the men draw into each other’s arms while the haunting strains of Dvořák's Humoresque plays.

The final sex scene is both, tender and horrifying, exciting as well as disturbing. Once more Wrangler and Richards exhibit such passion that it’s kind of scary, they look like they might eat each other alive. When Richards begins fucking Wrangler, you can actually see the sofa they are on moving and shaking. Finally after they both reach an orgasm, Phil hands Charles the jock strap and say’s “Do it”. And he does. He chokes him to death and then shortly after this, the drugs that were given him kick in and he passes out on the chest of his lover and the camera goes in for a slow close up of the two of them – looking for all the world like they are just asleep, and as the final strains of Humoresque plays, we fade to black.

At the end of this film, I sort of felt like someone had dropped an anvil on my head. While admittedly the plot line has holes so big in it you can drive a truck through them, why, oh why, was the story so damn compelling? The theme of the doomed lovers is an old one, but usually one of the lovers in question is not a sociopath. I don’t know why, but this morbid little movie is extremely effective.

***

Speaking of morbid; here’s a bit of gruesome trivia concerning the director of Killing Me Softly. Frances Ellie, whose real name was Michael Findlay not only directed gay porn and straight porn, he also directed a lot of low budget horror films. He was also an inventor who had created a camera that had true 3-D capabilities. In May of 1977, Findlay was taking a helicopter from New York to the airport to catch a plane to France to show his invention to possible investors when the chopper he was in crashed on to the roof of the Pan Am building decapitating him and killing four other people.

Navy Blue

1954’s classic film, The Caine Mutiny, told the tale of a deeply disturbed United States Navel Officer (played by Humphrey Bogart) and his obsession with some missing strawberries. Bogart received his last Oscar nomination for his role as fruit obsessed, Lt. Cmdr. Philip Francis Queeg, and the film itself was nominated for six other Oscars, firmly establishing itself as an American cinema classic.


Improbably enough, a sequel of sorts to The Caine Mutiny can be found in the 1981 porn film, Navy Blue.


Directed by Frances Ellie, Navy Blue opens with a ship pulling into harbor in New York City during Christmas week, while an on-ship announcement is made, “The SS Caine has been out to sea for almost nine months. Unfortunately, due to the mutiny that occurred only two sailors, Jack Whiting (Jack Wrangler – the blond haired, blue eyed God of 70’s gay porn) and George Edwards (Giuseppe Welsh – a dark eyed, bearded, perfectly coifed disco stud muffin) are being granted leave … they found the missing strawberries.”


Needless to say, if you don’t know the story behind the original film, the joke might be lost.


What follows is probably one of the more endearing, humorous, daring, and ultimately, heartbreaking pieces of erotic cinema, gay or straight.


It turns out that our two Seamen are smitten with each other, but are afraid to admit their heart’s desires. When they first hit dry land Wrangler’s Whiting says that he can’t wait to find some “pussy” while Welsh’s Edwards claims that he’s got a girlfriend waiting for him. Pushing sexual yearnings aside, the boys hit the Big Apple and in the second homage to another movie, Navy Blue becomes On The Town with the sailors seeing the sights of New York City (circa 1980)… all that’s missing is Gene Kelly and a big musical number.

Eventually the boys go their separate ways and as Jack strolls midtown, through voice over, we discover that he is madly in love with his buddy. He stops in front of a store all decked out for Christmas and imagines his object of desire as a present to himself.


Shot like an old Sassoon Jeans ad, Jack’s fantasy features Welsh, complete with a red ribbon and bow tied around his waist, by a Christmas tree festooned with lights – disco music plays and Jack slowly unwraps his present, falls to his knees and starts sucking his buddy’s dick; but the fantasy ends quickly and Jack goes on his way.


Meanwhile, on the other end of town, Welsh is bemoaning the same thing, he’s in love with Jack, but he can’t let him know he’s gay (don’t ask don’t tell), and as he walks along pining for his lover boy, he bumps into a Salvation Army Santa Claus who propositions him.


Well, quicker than you could sing the second verse of Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer, George and Santa are back at Santa’s pad and are doing the nasty.


Under the costume, Santa is a hot guy who keeps his red hat on while sucking Welsh’s dick. As the men go at each other, Sleigh Ride plays in the background, making the scene both campy as well as highly erotic … then, as the action gets more intense, and Welsh throw’s Santa’s legs up in the air and proceeds to fuck the daylights out of him, the sound track changes to The Carol of the Bells!


And then, when Santa cums, he reaches for his bell and begins ringing it wildly!


I promise, you’ll be laughing in spite of your hard-on during this moment!


After this we find ourselves on Broadway where a young man standing in front of the statue of George M. Cohen is handing out some kind of flyers to passersby, one man takes the flyer, looks at it and then punches the young man. A few minutes later, a woman takes a flyer, looks at it and slaps the young man in the face. At this point Jack approaches and takes the flyer and looks at it; it reads, “Flying Cocksuckers”.


Soon Jack is in a helicopter flying over Gotham, and in one of the most bizarre sex scenes ever, gets a blow job from the young man while the pilot of the chopper mentions points of interest on the ground below. Talk about your Mile High Club! It’s a dizzy affair, but Jack reciprocates and sucks the young guy off and soon both of the guys are shooting their loads while the copter flies over the Statue of Liberty.


Back on the ground, Jack finds his way to George’s apartment, walks in a finds his buddy screwing a woman.


Anna Freed plays the nameless woman, and she sucks cock as well, if not better, than any man ever scene in a gay porn flick.


Stunned over this turn of events, Jack leaves the apartment and walks dejectedly through the streets of New York, and once more, through voice over, we hear him questioning his relationship with George.


Back at George’s the screwing continues with Welsh eating out Freed’s pussy and then mounting her for a pretty respectable hetero-fuck. Freed is actually a gorgeous woman with long black hair and a beautiful body – still though, this might come as a shock to gay men who don’t usually see straight sex in their porn films. What the heck, I thought it was pretty hot all things considered.


When Freed and Welsh are through, we find out what’s really going on. He hands the woman a wad of cash and asks, “Do you think he saw us?” Freed says that he did. And then she asks him why he wanted his friend to see them together, and Welsh states that he does not want his friend to know that he’s gay.


Here, the hooker with a heart of gold, states the obvious when she says, “Oh Christ, just tell him you love him!” Amen, sister!

Deciding that he has to tell his friend the truth, Jack returns to the apartment and finds Welsh waiting for him alone.


The both say that they have something to tell the other and then we fade out and back in to a soft focus kiss as Wrangler and Welsh proceed to engage in the most erotic lovemaking ever committed to film.


In what is yet another homage to yet another film, 10, the men begin a slow, sexy, seductive coupling scored to Ravel's Bolero.


There is much kissing, and touching and eye contact in this scene that clocks in at over fifteen minutes in length and the viewer might be hypnotized by the sheer beauty of the entire movement – make no mistake, this is sex, but it’s beautiful, sensual sex … sex with a heart as well as a hard-on.


As the music of Bolero, builds in intensity, so does the action, kissing is replaced by nipple play, which is followed by body worship, which is replaced by mutual cock sucking, which is followed by fucking… when Welsh mounts Wrangler, the look on Wrangler’s face is one of sheer pleasure, matched only by the look on the dark top man’s face.


As Welsh pushes himself further into him, Wrangler reaches up and caresses his partner’s body, pleading for more, begging for more … and then when Welsh leans forward to kiss Wrangler, the men wrap their arms around each other as if they were desperate not to be separated ever…

When Wrangler gets down on all fours, and Welsh takes him from behind, he strains to turn his head to see the man fucking him … and then when both men are on their knees and Welsh is kissing his partner’s neck, his hands grabbing at Wranglers nipples, until Wrangler cries out in ecstasy shooting his load followed by Welsh doing the same; one can be sure that one has just witnessed love making as opposed to just fucking.


If this scene does not do it for you, you might not have a soul.


After the lovemaking has ended, the boys are back at the dock and are about to board their ship when Jack is told that he’s been reassigned.


He argues with his superior over this but is told that orders are orders.


As he is led away, he turns to look at his lover who stands, heartbroken, on the dock. One last close up of Welsh’s dark soulful eyes fill the screen until it fades to black.


Wow, I can not recommend this film enough. That a skin flick can work on so many levels and be able to draw on so many diverse emotions is something to be celebrated. Something Navy Blue does with flying colors.

First Post: Remembering Jack Wrangler

For those of us of a certain age, the name Jack Wrangler conjured up the image of the perfect sexual fantasy; a strapping man with a mop of dirty blond hair, a winning smile, an endearing personality, the perfect body, a huge cock and a seemingly insatiable sexual appetite. He was, for many of us, the first real icon of swinging seventies gay liberation. So, when the news of his death at the age of 63 was reported last summer, a lot of older gay men felt as if they had lost a member of the family, or at least, discovered that their first crush was now forever departed.

Born John Stillman in Beverly Hills, California, Wrangler was the product of a Hollywood upbringing. His father, Robert, was a film director and television producer, his mother, Ruth, a former Broadway dancer. Early in life, the acting bug bit and when Wrangler was still a child, he regularly appeared on a religious television program (Faith of our Fathers). Later on he attended Northwestern where he studied theater.

In spite of his talent, and good looks, Wrangler was finding it difficult to break in to legitimate show biz, so in the very early seventies he started appearing at seedy gay clubs around New York City doing strip numbers. It was during his tenure as a dancer that he was “discovered” by a producer and started appearing in gay pornography.

Jack created his stage name when he saw a label on a shirt that read, “Wrangler” … and almost instantly, a porn star was born.

Due to his all-American good looks, his sexual prowess, and the fact that he could actually deliver lines with out sounding like he was reading off of cue-cards, Wrangler was a hit.

Inasmuch as Wrangler was a product of his time, he attributed the fact that he was doing gay porn because it was both “culturally subversive” as well as “politically liberating”. Furthermore, Wrangler claimed that the films were his own way of coming to grips with his own sexuality.

After completing almost forty gay porn films, Wrangler crossed over into straight porn in 1978, and had stated in interviews that he had lost his virginity to a woman on screen.

During all of this, Wrangler managed to appear in several off-Broadway productions, write a fitness column for a gay magazine, and lend his name to a string of sex toys and products.

Sometime in the mid 70's Wrangler met singer, Margret Whiting (some twenty years his senior), and the two immediately hit it off. Allegedly, when Wrangler told Whiting that he was gay, she replied, “Only around the edges, dear”. Whiting and Wrangler married in the early 80's and shortly thereafter he began writing and producing musical productions (most of which starred or featured his wife).

In 1984 Wrangler wrote his autobiography, “The Jack Wrangler Story -Or- What's a Nice Boy Like You Doing”.

Wrangler never denied his porn past, nor did he renounce his sexuality. He said in interviews that he loved his wife, but still enjoyed sex with men.

In 2008 he was the subject of a documentary, Wrangler, Anatomy of an Icon. The film played Sundance and introduced Jack Wrangler to an entire new generation of fans.

Jack Wrangler died on April 7th of 2009 in New York City. He passed away from complications caused by emphysema. He was still married to Margaret Whiting (Whiting passed away on 1.10.2011).

For those just catching up with the legend of Mr. Wrangler, I'd like to humbly suggest the following films from his oeuvre for your consideration:


A Night at the Adonis: From 1977 comes a sex drenched adventure that takes place in a gorgeous old theater in downtown Manhattan where we follow Jack,who plays Donald, a salesman who works in a clothing store by day, and cruises the elaborate grind house for sex at night. This is a must see not only for Wrangler's easy-going and comical performance, but for those interested in what sexual freedom was really like in a more unfettered time and place.


Killing Me Softly: 1979's darkly disturbing love story finds Wrangler playing an actor who falls in love with a sociopath. This is the film with the infamous Brooklyn Bridge fuck scene (two guys going at it, in broad daylight on the pathway of the bridge in clear sight of passing cars and bikers!). Not only are we treated to murder, mayhem and a double suicide – but Killing Me Softly also features some fascinating scenes of early gay pride parades in Manhattan. Wrangler shines in this one as an optimist who eventually comes to realize that he must make the ultimate sacrifice for love.


Navy Blue: 1981's romantic comedy finds our boy on shore leave lusting after a ship mate. Before the star crossed lovers hook up we get to see a blow job in a helicopter, sex with Santa, and a fantasy sequence that plays out like an ad for Sassoon Jeans circa 1978. Be that as it may when Jack and his object of desire (the wolf-like hunk of burning love, Giuseppe Welsh) finally do hook up, it is well worth the wait. Fucking and sucking to the strains of Bolero, the boys set the screen on fire.


Kansas City Trucking Company: Though he is only featured briefly in this 1976 homage to blue collar masculinity, Wrangler makes the most of his brief screen time as the horny manager of a loading dock. His scenes with hairy brute, Richard Locke and angel faced, Stephen Boyd are abbreviated but highly erotic.

Gemini: a film from 1980 is sex drenched, but thin on plot. Basically, Wrangler plays a guy with a split personality. On the one hand he loves his partner and enjoys having vanilla sex with him, on the other hand he loves donning a leather jacket and hooking up for some back alley rough stuff. Wrangler is all about the sex in this one, and he does not disappoint. My favorite scene is the fire side fuck played out to the strains of Pink Floyd's “Have a Cigar”.


Boots and Saddles: It's 1979, and a crazy Nazi (that little fuck machine, Scorpio) is screwing and killing gay men on the lower East side. Wrangler plays a guy whose latest trick discovers that he might have contracted syphilis from him (shades of Brian DePalma's Dressed to Kill). Nonetheless, when the chips are down, and the trick finds himself in the lair of the neo-Nazi, Wrangler comes to his rescue like an urban cowboy, kicking ass and taking names. Both Wrangler and Scorpio turn in some outstanding sex scenes in this peculiar little epic. Pay special attention to the wild fuck Wrangler throws in to Roy Garrett early on.


Jack and Jill: 1984 marked Wranglers first foray into straight porn, but don't let that put you off from seeing this one. This is a brilliant comedy that just happens to have a lot of straight sex in it. I mention it here, because it actually manages to show Wrangler's acting abilities. He is downright hysterical in this film, and his leading lady (Samantha Fox) is his perfect foil. In spite of everything, Jack and Jill is actually a sweet movie with some great acting and some decent heterosexual sex scenes … oh and yes, Jack delivers in that department as well.