Graham Travis showed distinct progress as an adult "auteur" with this felicitous follow-up to his well-regarded PORTRAIT OF A CALL GIRL, making it even more of a shame that Elegant Angel's changing of the guard has left him out on the pavement now that the company has apparently lost all interest in producing porn that challenges an audience's cerebral capacities as well as their crotches. The rough stuff that occasionally made PORTRAIT such a grueling experience to endure, at least to yours truly (vanilla till the end...), has thankfully been relegated to a mere guest spot at the film's climax set at the ominously named Club Inferno and even then it's far more stylized than outright salacious even though both female stars are submitted to the slapping, spitting and thorough-going DP action that has seemingly become present-day porn's bread and butter. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Unlikely friends since high school, sweet demure little Anna (adorable 5 ft 3 Lily Carter who justifiably made a clean sweep at the adult awards for what must be considered something of a breakout performance) travels from taciturn Tucson, Arizona, to downtown LA to renew her acquaintance with wild child Jacky (tempting tall drink of Tequila Lily Labeau who's just as impressive) after an acrimonious parting of their ways five years before. Now that her sole remaining relative, grandma Barbara, is fading into dementia in a nursing home, Anna's reaching out to her former BFF in order to get her life back on track. This will soon turn out to be something of a mistake however as the restless Jacky takes great delight in taunting the uptight innocent with her spur of the moment sexual outbursts, taking on massive Manuel Ferrara in a restroom stall (fully aware that Anna's peeking over the top) or pulling her into an absolutely scorching alley tryst with sculpted Karlo Karrera which proves one of the movie's many genuinely erotic highlights.
While Anna tries to reason with her, not to mention pick up their tentative Sapphic bond where they left off, the brazenly materialistic Jacky seems only interested in getting others to do her bidding with her friend's aching honesty prompting little more than a cruel attempt to corrupt a purity that she willingly gave up a long time ago. Flashbacks reveal that Jacky's homing in on Anna's boyfriend Eric (engagingly portrayed by hunky Xander Corvus) provided the primary reason for their break-up. Unable to get through to her, Anna sees no other way to connect with Jacky but by stooping to her level and joining her at the sexual free-for-all mentioned before. Rather than beating audiences over the head with prolonged peeks at depravity though, Travis holds a tight reign on what he will show and for how long, frequently changing positions punctuated with reaction shots from the increasingly resigned Anna to keep matters riveting. As the action reaches full boil, he never loses sight of the emotional repercussions that will prompt the picture's effectively low-key resolution. Bear in mind that this assessment concerns the flick's official director's cut running close to two hours, presented as the main feature in Elegant Angel's lavish two disc DVD set with extended cuts of most sex scenes relegated to the bonus platter, a tactic more adult companies should adopt if they are being serious about breaking into mainstream movie-making.
Superbly scored, dramatically compelling and gorgeously shot by a trio of talented DoP's (this to differentiate from the aforementioned DP's !), WASTELAND falls into that increasingly rare category of carnal entertainment that manages to realize its lofty ambitions to such an extent that those few instances where it drops the ball stand out all the more. A few dialog bits fall flat through occasionally uninspired writing rather than lackluster performances (most of which are top-notch) where it sounds like Travis is ticking off clichés until you're hit over the head with surprising insights right out of the blue. Both Lilies dominate the proceedings with little in their joint filmographies (apart from Labeau's turn in B. Skow's PROUD PARENTS perhaps) suggesting the thespian capabilities they display here. Eerily silent over the last two years since, Travis was but a hair's breadth removed from achieving an absolute masterpiece mixing arousal with artistry. Here's hoping that some other enterprising erotic entrepreneur (though with today's Internet-based immediate intimacy prevailing over fine-tuned features, I wouldn't hold my breath) takes a chance on Travis and allows him to continue his tantalizing trajectory as a bona fide fornication filmmaker rather than a mere dirty movie director.