As the title implies, ANAL DOMAIN concentrates rather heavily on what used to euphemistically called "backdoor activity". Contrary to most specialized features, this one actually boasts quite a bit of plot to go along with these rectal antics and like its amiable director, minor league performer Shawn Ricks, it's goofy and unpredictable. Just like his intended to be innovative but merely jumbled IN YOUR DREAMS an early vehicle for future Wicked contract girl Temptress he mixes black & white for story segments with full color for sex. Apparently, he thinks he has hit upon a clever stylistic device here.
Real estate agent Jill Kelly (who only performs solo and Sapphic stuff here, fans be forewarned) has all the trouble in the world trying to get rid of a house haunted by its former inhabitants, Brits Roxanne Hall (lovely star of a little-known David Fleetwood movie called MIA) and Mark Davis, who were killed in a car accident and now pass eternity playing sexual mind games on prospective buyers. Director Ricks (in a non-sex role) and the appropriately named Chrissy Canfield are up first with the latter bearing witness and masturbating to a decent coupling of Scott Styles and Kimberly Jade, who was to gain unfortunate notoriety as one of the casualties of the late '90s HIV crisis that rocked the industry and could allegedly be traced back to performer Marc Wallice. The next couple are also split up as John Decker (a good actor when the material calls for it as Paul Thomas' MARISSA can attest) gets horny Hall in the garage while spouse Johnni Black does Davis in the upstairs bedroom.
In my opinion, there's a lapse of logic when these hormonally driven ghostly apparitions send people scurrying for the nearest exit rather than make them want to buy the mansion pronto. So what if your sex partner disappears right after carnal consummation ? Some of us might consider that a bonus. Be that as it may, this latest failure at unloading the property prompts Kelly to utter the flick's funniest line : "That's it ! I'm calling in a sexual exorcist !" Enter the incredible Julie Rage, who delivered equally memorable performances in Greg Steelberg's IMPACT and THE CRAVING, as just such a sexorcist and, boy, does she look and act the part. Her sharp features can make her look fashion model gorgeous one moment and witchy the next, depending on how she's lit and photographed. Ricks makes clever use of this dichotomy and her big "casting out of the spirits" sequence proves the movie's highlight with Rage contorting that eerily lithe frame of hers into some rather weird positions to please both Mark and Roxanne simultaneously with Jill beating off on the sidelines.
Perhaps the film should have stopped there, but Ricks suddenly remembered that no one had had sex with his leading lady yet so Kelly gets ravaged by Rage on the ornate staircase for a somewhat anti-climactic capper. It's rarely a good idea to end a flick with chick on chick shtick. Try saying that five times fast ! Aside from wasting the presence of its biggest star, the movie also suffers from its rather cheap, down-market look, accentuated by an otherwise really effective "G.G. Steel" (a/k/a Greg Steelberg) soundtrack that frequently seems far too grandiose for such a minimal affair.
Real estate agent Jill Kelly (who only performs solo and Sapphic stuff here, fans be forewarned) has all the trouble in the world trying to get rid of a house haunted by its former inhabitants, Brits Roxanne Hall (lovely star of a little-known David Fleetwood movie called MIA) and Mark Davis, who were killed in a car accident and now pass eternity playing sexual mind games on prospective buyers. Director Ricks (in a non-sex role) and the appropriately named Chrissy Canfield are up first with the latter bearing witness and masturbating to a decent coupling of Scott Styles and Kimberly Jade, who was to gain unfortunate notoriety as one of the casualties of the late '90s HIV crisis that rocked the industry and could allegedly be traced back to performer Marc Wallice. The next couple are also split up as John Decker (a good actor when the material calls for it as Paul Thomas' MARISSA can attest) gets horny Hall in the garage while spouse Johnni Black does Davis in the upstairs bedroom.
In my opinion, there's a lapse of logic when these hormonally driven ghostly apparitions send people scurrying for the nearest exit rather than make them want to buy the mansion pronto. So what if your sex partner disappears right after carnal consummation ? Some of us might consider that a bonus. Be that as it may, this latest failure at unloading the property prompts Kelly to utter the flick's funniest line : "That's it ! I'm calling in a sexual exorcist !" Enter the incredible Julie Rage, who delivered equally memorable performances in Greg Steelberg's IMPACT and THE CRAVING, as just such a sexorcist and, boy, does she look and act the part. Her sharp features can make her look fashion model gorgeous one moment and witchy the next, depending on how she's lit and photographed. Ricks makes clever use of this dichotomy and her big "casting out of the spirits" sequence proves the movie's highlight with Rage contorting that eerily lithe frame of hers into some rather weird positions to please both Mark and Roxanne simultaneously with Jill beating off on the sidelines.
Perhaps the film should have stopped there, but Ricks suddenly remembered that no one had had sex with his leading lady yet so Kelly gets ravaged by Rage on the ornate staircase for a somewhat anti-climactic capper. It's rarely a good idea to end a flick with chick on chick shtick. Try saying that five times fast ! Aside from wasting the presence of its biggest star, the movie also suffers from its rather cheap, down-market look, accentuated by an otherwise really effective "G.G. Steel" (a/k/a Greg Steelberg) soundtrack that frequently seems far too grandiose for such a minimal affair.