Word: dominatrix
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...Gotham City that looms like a rube's nightmare of Manhattan. He strips the Bruce Wayne legend down to its chassis, dumping Robin and the goony rogues' gallery. This is a face-off between two men in weird masks: one in a leathery black item out of a dominatrix's pleasure chest, the other with a grin frozen into a rictus. One man obsessed with good, the other enthralled by evil: Batman (Michael Keaton) and the Joker (Jack Nicholson...
...though. Fleshing out a story by Horror Aesthete H.P. Lovecraft, Gordon finds florid visual correlatives for Lovecraft's eldritch prose, then adds a heavy dose of '80s psychosexuality. One messy kiss from the late Dr. Pretorious (Ted Sorel), and a cool blond psychiatrist (Barbara Crampton) gets tarted up in dominatrix leather to revive Nerdy Genius Crawford Tillinghast (Jeffrey Combs) by any means at hand. Heady stuff...
...himself to slit the throat of his new companion. "It's not just pork. It's power," Joyce tells her sweet, weak husband. "Kill your friend!" Can he resist Joyce's way with the whip--especially when she is so erotically commanding in victory? "Well, Gilbert," purrs this domestic dominatrix, "I think sexual intercourse is in order...
...heart (and it has one), Crimes of Passion is about the sad, sybaritic pleasures embraced by men too old to grow up. And the hooker-dominatrix is really a dark angel who gives herself whole-bodied to her clients' midnight dreams. No less, Turner throws herself headfirst into the film, hyperventilating on the medium's potential for erogenous adventure. This is a clever, daring, mad performance in a movie that is just as reckless. Crimes of Passion and its more lurid brethren in the skin trade are not for everyone, but they should at least be available...
...substantial novels made into movies these days? Perhaps because the printed page is a dominatrix of the imagination, demanding that the reader conjure up worlds from words, that he become a hard-working co-conspirator in the creative experience. Celluloid, by comparison, is a laissez-faire baby sitter. It asks only that the viewer believe what he sees, that he go with the flow of seductive images and return to intellectual infancy as a passive, pacified fun sucker. The young audience that makes hits these days out of laser shows and locker-room frolics seems bored with the notion that...