I've Seen The Amy Fisher Sex Tape

Listen, if you're:

A. Younger than 21 years of age.
B. Squeamish.
C. Digesting a meal.
D. Have a heart condition.
E. My parents.

...you may wish to skip this entry because it may:

A. Ruin you for life.
B. Cause you to pass out.
C. Cause you to throw up.
D. Kill you.
E. Inspire extreme disappointment in your heart for me.

The film opens in a single shot scene of the Long Island Lolita, who, thanks to age resembles more like the Long In The Tooth Lolita or Long Island Larry, if you consider the accent, nude in a tub. The tub appears to be of quality design and the wonderful window choice for the bathroom. It really brings natural light into the room. And yes, I'm trying to describe anything else of than Amy Fisher and that bizarre husband of hers.

Since you really can't avoid them, I'll get to it - Amy Fisher looks like she hasn't been in the sun for most of her adult life. A light shade of pale, meanwhile that husband of hers must live in a tanning bed. Fisher has a pretty decent body for a woman in her 40's (I'm guessing). She does sport two artificial boobs though.

So anyway, as you can imagine, there's sex and it is scary. It's as scary as the dialog... and let's just say, the script isn't going to be appearing on Masterpiece Theatre anytime... ever. But it is the dialog, the sharing of loving communication that makes this film a classic.

The husband sounds like your grandfather. So imagine your grandfather, without any emotion, telling your grandmother to touch herself, but in a Long Island accent. "Touch your c*it... rub it." That's hot.

Criminals.


The acting is great - I particularly enjoy the improvisation work that went on in the shower/tub scene. Amy is pleasuring her husband and he's about to complete the deed when she beckons:

"Come."

And he replies, "On your face?"

And in a brilliant example of improvisational acting, she says, "No, on my tits," artistically proving that it truly isn't a man's world. This film has a message, my friends.

She does complete this incredibly moving scene with a line that will live on in film history, "I love to taste my daddy's c*m." I think this speaks to the intrinsic need for all women to need a father in the their lives.

In the final scene, we're taken to the bed chambers belonging to Fisher and husband for a final dramatic recreation of Hamlet, I think. Or was it gruesome looking intercourse? Oh yes, it was intercourse. I think her husband's lesser parts was called Hamlet? Maybe I had finally slipped into a pornographic coma at this point and had been searching the internet for a therapist. Whatever the case, they do it... AGAIN.

It starts out, like most professional relationships, with oral. Someone's using Viagra. Then when that whole train wreck is done, he picks her up, like it was their wedding day again, and crosses the threshold of Hell and plants her on the bed. Then the real crime happens...

"Does... that... feel... good? Danger... Will.... Robinson..."

Thankfully, actual procreation is averted in the entire film.

Overall, I found that the film had a lot to say to the audience, in the same vein as Citizen Kane. With cinematography, I have to say that the idea of a single shot scene is ingenious. It would be like being there with your eyelids superglue'd open and your head fused forward. I call it "The Prisoner of War" shot.

Is it worth the price of admission? I think that depends on how much someone is paying you to see it.

Ron Paul 2008!