Issue:  Vol. 48 / No. 12 / 22 March 2018


Karrnal Knowledge

'Cop' Riley Burke and Dillon Samuels in Oliver Twink. Photo:
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The new year's viewing starts off with a twist, alright. But it's not kink. It's Dickens.

It's surprising that the angelic hero, young ruffians, and swaggering villains of Oliver Twist haven't been porn-ized before now. But I'm glad upstart director Peter Z. Pan got to it first. Pan's the writer and/or director of similarly nimble and twink-based outings such as BeTwinked, Desperate Houseboys, and The DaVinci Load and its sequel. But Oliver Twink is the most fun. It actually turns Pan's generally slapdash approach into a virtue, and has numerous clever turns in a succinct and sassy script. Just imagine — happily awaiting and watching the plot scenes in a sexo!

So although the lighting is crude, the sound recording harsh, the sets a random collection of junked-up locales, the acting unreliable, and the majority of the sexual encounters miserly short, the movie's clever ideas, quick pace, asides to the audience, and certainly its intriguingly sexy boys having playfully hot sex earn it an indulgence I wouldn't grant a more polished, bigger-budget sexo.

Director Pan's flip attitude is met perfectly in the casting of delicious Dillon Samuels as Oliver, who seasons a naturally innocent look with just the right touch of contemporary irony. The story begins on Oliver's 18th birthday, as Mr. Bumble — a delightfully nasty Brad Star — kicks him out of an orphan's workhouse in a backwater town in Florida (the menu posting on the workhouse wall lists the Gruel du Jour as Soylent Green). Oliver trades his ass for a bus ticket to the big city. Heck, I'd blow Brad for a ride around the block. Brad's low-hangers have never hung lower, and his long cock has never seemed longer. The videographer treats us to the first of the movie's many views from the top's POV, looking down at a cocksucker's innocently twinky, upturned gaze as his cock is gobbled. Oliver gives great head, gets positively slammed by Brad's fucking, and, in another of the movie's specialties, rides a pumpin' Reverse Cowboy. After kneading up a big O as Brad screws away emphatically, Oliver gets a face and mouthful of Brad's groin gruel. And only then does he deliver the classic line: "Please, sir. I want some more."

After wandering through South Beach, an exhausted Oliver comes to a rest at a cul-de-sac dead-end that turns out to be the Artful Dodger's turf. In an auspicious debut, the Dodger is played by Kyros Christian, a lanky bit of trade with a snarling tumble of black hair. He's also got an insanely flat, even concave groin that's neatly shaved. The touch of acne on his face is what pioneering pornographer Artie Bresson called an Authenticating Feature. It certifies that he's a teen. In this Twist-up, Fagin's boys are hookers, not pickpockets, and the Dodge quickly deserts Oliver for a client, rhetorically asking, "Who Will Buy this Boy for Sale?" The buyer is the Reverend Daggert (hot Ryan Thompson), who momentarily wields a dildo, but who more prominently smashes his great gazoo into Christian's hairless and tight little hole.

The Dodge takes Oliver to Fagin's den, which the boys tell him "is kind of like Days of Our Lives, but with whores." Fagin continually corrects everyone's pronouncing his name as Fag-in, and offers Oliver sound advice. "Just remember, my boy. In this life, you've got to suck a penis or two." With his awful scraggle of bleach-blond frizz shorn to the nub, gaunt Jarett Fox, as Fagin, looks much more butch than in previous movies. His dick's as big and stiff as ever (whatta whopper!), and he and the Dodge begin to demonstrate to Oliver the tricks of his new trade. This quickly becomes a threeway. Fox's hardy hunk of meat is big enough for both lads to feast on simultaneously, with a lot left over. The Dodge rides it first, but it looks best cleaving Oliver's pristine pupik.

Out on his first job, Oliver's nabbed by an undercover cop — hairy-chested, choicely tattooed and heavily cocked Riley Burke. Yet he's got a soft spot for Oliver, and releases Oliver so they can make real love. Their romantic heat contrasts the movie's rowdier episodes nicely; the scene displays Oliver's stiff boy-cock at its best, and is capped with a satisfying OCS.

But Oliver's about to fall into the hands of treacherous Bill Sikes, a pornographer who forces boys to make bareback porn (every time Bill Sikes smacks impossibly co-dependent Nancy, she swears, "I love you, Bill"). He films a raunchy scene with two impossibly hung hotties (I can't wait to see more of debuting Jayce Jones), but realizes that Nancy's supplied the boys with a condom, and kills her. The denouement is a little over-the-top, but the two-hour, widescreen movie wraps happily when Oliver goes home with his ever-lovin' cop.

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