A truly groundbreaking gay porn classic as well as the first episode of the genre's only legitimate trilogy worthy of that name, a term usually reserved for highbrow art-house fare (think Kieslowski's THREE COLOURS) or as an attempt to add a sheen of respectability to money-grabbing multiplex bonanzas like Wes Craven's SCREAM. The road led from Kansas to El Paso (EL PASO WRECKING CORP.) and Los Angeles (L.A. TOOL & DIE) and these three Tim Kincaid (a/k/a "Joe Gage") masterpieces chart the evolving sexual mores and growing emotional needs of truck driver Hank, a landmark character in homo hardcore history and iconic performance by grizzled Richard Locke.
If one were to subtitle each episode surely the benchmark of the truly pretentious trilogy then KANSAS would simply serve as an uncomplicated paean to "sport fornicating" without emotional commitment, EL PASO could go on record as a tribute to friendship and camaraderie between Locke and fellow trucker Fred Halsted, with true love and its inevitable pitfalls covered by L.A. The first film comes across as the most abstract, stressing the anonymity of the pure sex experience, characters interacting but never actually connecting. Gay porn superstar Jack Wrangler, who would leave an indelible impression in Steve Scott's WANTED before crossing over to the straight side of the industry aided and abetted by the late lamented Chuck Vincent, makes a noted appearance as the slutty dispatcher with the hots for Locke. The latter is putting the moves on his new and inexperienced co-driver, hot but untouchable Steve Boyd (also in J. Brian's RAW COUNTRY), who chooses to give himself to a group of strangers - the eponymous "Gage Men" - rather than his roadside companion.
Much of the film's storyline, which seems more like free association than a proper plot, is communicated via Hank's voice-over whiling away the long hours on the road. If you listen closely, you will notice that it's actually different from Locke's speaking voice and probably Kincaid himself doing the honors for whatever reason : autobiographical self-reference or simply a lack of faith in his star's thespian abilities ? Pioneering what was to become his trademark aesthetic, Kincaid fills the film with strong, silent, masculine types straight out of Tom of Finland drawings with only slightly more modest appendages all ripped muscles and copious facial and body hair, going about their business of reaming each other in a way that truly separates the men from the boys. The intense orgy sequence, with the director joining in, proves particularly impressive in its single-minded pursuit of pleasure. By contrast, the threesome involving Duff Paxton and Kurt Williams (both from Steve Scott's 12 AT NOON) in a little shack in the middle of the desert provides some of the most achingly beautiful all male intermingling imagery I have ever come across, courtesy of cinematographer Nick Elliot who singlehandedly elevated the first two installments to a peerless plane but was supplanted by Richard Youngblood on L.A. TOOL & DIE. For maximum effect, watch all three movies in both the right order and close proximity of one another.