All American Orgy Review: A Netflix Instant Public Service Announcement
By Dustin Rowles | Posted Under Film Reviews | Comments (22)
For reasons that escape me, there’s something mysterious about the Netflix Instant algorithm that, every few months, a title that I’d obviously have little or no interest in floats to the top and refuses to disappear. Lately, that movie is All American Orgy, and given how little it has to do with the majority of my “Likes” (indie fare and documentaries) or Recent Watches (“Blue’s Clues,” “Doctor Who” and mostly kid’s television shows), I have to imagine that this film interrupts a lot of people’s Instant Watch browsing experiences as well. So, as a Public Service to those of you who spend an inordinate amount of time surfing Instant Watch, I thought I’d nip your curiosity in the bud.
All American Orgy is not a good film. It’s not porn, soft-core or otherwise. It’s not an American Pie straight-to-DVD sequel raunch-fest, as the Netflix Instant thumbnail and the title description suggests, either. What it is is an unpleasant-to-watch and feeble attempt at a mumblecore flick featuring a spectacularly annoying cast that badly fumbles their stab at Slackavetes with banal, badly improvised dialogue and all the sex appeal of Kevin Smith’s used boxer shorts.
Granted, the conceit isn’t half bad: Three couples, all of which are friends, decide to get together and throw an orgy at a farmhouse out in the middle of the woods. Lynne Shelton and a group of capable amateur actors could do wonders with the premise, taking it to its natural organic conclusion, which would probably entail two people getting too drunk and fucking while the other four chickened out and had to suffer through the awkwardness the next morning. That’s kind of where An All American Orgy wants to go, but it’s weighed down by three immensely unlikable couples who agree to the orgy because they’re stuck in terrible relationships on account of being mostly terrible people with which no one would want to be. It’s a great cinematic combination. Like blueberry muffins and battery acid.
The worst thing about annoying, obnoxious characters, of course, is listening to them talk, and — up until and then after the brief unconsensual orgy sex that ends with one guy with a face full of spunk — that’s all that All American Orgy amounts to: Empty blather about body issues, “clit dumps,” penis bravado, and irritable bowels. Thought-provoking stuff, it is not. There’s also an extraneous subplot involving a drug dealer, invited out to the farm house in exchange for drugs, only he ends up standing outside and watching much of the proceedings as disgusted and annoyed with the rest of the film’s characters as the audience is. He’s also meant to provide some sort of horror-movie threat that never materializes but still manages to give the film the occasional jarring tonal shift.
What I’m saying is: If All American Orgy begins invading your Instant Netflix personal space, don’t let curiosity get the better of you. It’s not a so-bad-it’s-good cheap pleasure, it doesn’t provide you with any alone-time thrills, and it certainly doesn’t rise to the level of even sub-standard indie fare. Just click on the “Not Interested” button and move on. Maybe watch the first season of “The League” (now on Instant Watch) instead.
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Comments
Posted by: RobP at March 28, 2011 3:38 PM
But, I love blueberry muffins.