Porn-o-matic 2000 (2000)

Veg-o-Matic is symbolic of the decades-old late-night TV pitchmen commercials, selling everything from chamois cloths that can remove car scratches to lifelong-lasting umbrellas and sharpest-of-sharp knives. I've never broken down and bought one of these phone-in items, but Jonathan Morgan stooped to shooting several Wicked Pictures so-called comedies on the subject.

This one has Alexa Rae and Anthony Crane fronting for the commercial, saying stupid things that earned writer-director Morgan a "Best Screenplay" (sic) nomination from good old AVN. Too bad he didn't win the unearned award, as he signed his name "Eric Spitznagel" for the script on screen.

Six sex scenes, with Alexa participating in two of them, are tired burlesque sketches that play poorly, seemingly created merely to provide blooper footage, that briefly pads the feature at the end before the credits mercifully roll and one can turn the damn thing off.

So we get busty Olivia checking into a hotel where bellboy Morgan serves as desk clerk, doing unfunny Jerry Lewis shtick before humping her. He reappears as a water delivery man named Louisa to service Bridgette Kerkove, here preserved with her original 32B tits prior to magnification surgery on same.

Alexa's routines include a dumb three-way with Temptress (certainly one of her crummiest screen roles in an illustrious career) as fellow prison guards dominating and humping poor Brad Armstrong, as well as a lesbian scene with Kaylynn, both dressed as school girls.

Other skits are a poor-taste IR threesome in which Byron Long and Guy DiSilva wearing Afro fright wigs save luscious whore Tasha Hunter from mean pimp Dick Tracy (NonSex Role). Tracy returns as a big fat audience shill who morphs into a thin specimen (cheap SPFX) after watching a video vignette starring Armstrong. How this works even in the fantasy universe occupied by auteur Morgan is left unexplained.

The Porn-o-Matic huge machine, on sale for only 5 payments of $69.95 each, is beyond ridiculous. Instead of stuffing foodstuffs into a Veg-o- Matic blender, Crane stuffs props into the Porn-o-Matic and out pops a VHS tape (how quaint viewed 17 years later) that constitutes the sex scene we watch.

Crane & Alexa go on at length about how terrible it is that porn fans have to suffer through dialog scenes, when an innovation like Porn-o- Matic can deliver them wall-to-wall sex instead, saving on the agony of constantly fast-forwarding. Methinks Morgan is shooting himself in the foot, as Wicked's proudly proclaimed "brand of story-oriented erotica" is the antithesis of what these two pitch-people are touting, namely gonzo crap. Morgan has certainly delivered crap, but it has the dreaded lousy dialog anyhow - a contradiction that AVN thought was award-worthy for some easily guessed commercial reason.