As follow-up to last week's documentary about Toby Ross, let's look at three of his best known, pre-condom titles�"Reflections of Youth (1975), Boys in the Slums (1976), and Do Me Evil (1975).
The first two are comprised of shorts that had been made for mail order, filmed in 16mm and reduced to 8mm, and later bridged together with connecting dialogue scenes. While less than optimum sound recording renders much of the dialogue inaudible, what one does hear can be incomprehensible. Or silly, in that porn way, like a lead in to a scene being, "Didja hear about that kid over there?"
As a dialogue director, Ross is generally the pits. A perfectly succulent three-way is too quickly interrupted in Boys when one guy says, "Hey, let's use the glory hole," with the enthusiastic yelp you'd use for, "Hey, let's make s'mores tonight!"
And I'm not such a fan of Ross' trademark natural lighting. It can add a nice mood if applied here and there. But constantly, streaming through diaphanous curtains, its fluttering wash needs to be looked through. The Tungsten lighting Ross abjures may be on the harsh side, but I'll tell ya, it's better than not being able to see things.
Ross also has a trademark editing style, in which a forthcoming scene is superimposed over the one ending, which then fades away. It's nifty at first, but over use leads to impatience. I did appreciate some panning he used in Boys, moving his camera off into darkness to the right of his performers, only to have them glide back in from the left, further along in their scene �"an advancement of the action that's just neato.
What I really couldn't abide was Ross' use of music. It's undistinguished, and sometimes distressing. Usually, it's just a guitar or Hammond organ noodling around; muzak that would be rejected by any self-respecting elevator or grocery store. And it lang=FR>'s just plain sloppy in Boys when a rock song disappears in mid-phrase, and there's six minutes of silence. Things get nutso in Do Me Evil, with accompaniment ranging from muzak of the lowest order to symphonies. As my dementia continues to set in, I can't recall if it's Tchaikovsky or Brahms (nor can I remember the Italian for window).
And what's going on with the director's bottoms? Overly passive butt boys are such a curse throughout the movies that one suspects tranquilizers. Or disinterest. One bottom boy in Reflections does give some reaction, though it's not perhaps one to rouse us. He looks back over his shoulder right into the camera, with a mildly vexed look on his face, as if to say, "Get on with it, then."
Just about the first thing you'll notice when watching is that performers back then hadn't heard about shaving their balls. As later performers (and, indeed, the general populace) have subsequently learned, this provides an unobfuscated view, reduces the friction coefficient, and assists in tongue slide.
Another thing you'll notice is that more than a few of Ross' performers have acne. Pornographer Artie (Pleasure Beach) Bressen told me that was a signifying factor of their youth. I say, get the Clearasil, honey, because to me, youth is a signifying factor of youth.
The ten scenes in sixty minutes that is Reflections of Youth have a somewhat numbing efficiency. In its third scene, there's a swell blond whose long cock is nestled in a ginger bush. He's a plugger when fucking a brunet, who sadly remains pretty blasé. Their sex is not quite equatorial, but it is somewhere north of mild. The last scene offers eye candy in the very large cock of a guy who gets sucked off with a level of engagement not previously encountered.
Bill Eld is casually drawn into the movie when someone says, "Hey, do you remember Bill, the gym coach?" His star turn is a casually efficient jack-off that is nonetheless an encompassing survey of his potent qualifications to stardom�"lush lips, big swath of hair, ripped physique, and monster cock.
Despite the standard Ross flaws, Boys in the Slums delivers some okay sex. A much less blithe movie than Reflections, I went for its funkier, slightly older guys, and the visibility of its sex. Filming mostly in a cellar where runaways or some such similar riffraff are lang=IT>squatting, Ross was forced to use Tungsten lighting, and surprise! His images have a not hitherto seen clarity.
The sex in Boys is generally more aggressive, especially two twinkish types working their scrumptious cocks atop a pile of old cloths. Also good is a more seasoned dude, well built and, of course, fascinatingly hung, with a thick mass of curly hair and a swell '70s mustache. The final scene features a star-worthy lad, with a handsome, broad and face.
And then, there's Do Me Evil, which stands apart from Ross' films. Quite simply, it's more accomplished. Ross had always dreamt of the sort of theatrical distribution accorded the likes of Poole and Arch Brown. This meant a booking at the Nob Hill, and he got it with Do Me Evil.
Promotional material for the movie tells us it "examines incest, hustling, suicide, mental abuse, aging and poverty." And all with the requisite Ross big dicks. Here's how it goes: Older brother abuses younger brother unto suicide, after which older brother slides into self-degradation �"he eats out of garbage cans after relocating to Skid Row.
The movie's sex is surprisingly modern in both performance and filming, and Mike Daniels, playing the Older Brother, is a blond, sexy guy well worth a visit. He's a Don Johnson type who can, by porn standards, actually act. Or, act as well as Don Johnson. When Daniels jacks off, we're privileged to watch along with a voyeur.
In an earlier article, I said I had no idea why Toby Ross hadn't gotten the enduring reclaim of some of his peers. After watching these at least the first two of these features, I know the reason. They're not very good, and they're not enduring well at all. Their technical aspects don't compare to their day's competition, and their sex acts are more proficient than sexy. They might have once filled a need, but watching them now was more archeology than pleasure. Important in the history of porn, they're hardly must-sees.