Scooter Trash (1985) Directed by Boz Crawford 80 min.
The way I heard about this movie was through Jeff Krulik’s 1996 documentary short King of Porn, about Ralph Whittington, owner of one of the largest pornography collections in the world. His collection currently resides at the Museum of Sex.
One of the pornos Ralph talks about in the doc is Scooter Trash, which features real bikers from upstate NY. Being a NYC native and a fan of all things unique when it comes cinema, I had to track it down.
It was surprisingly easy to find a torrent for it and download it—I guess there are a handful of Scooter Trash fans out there seeding it 24/7. Good on them for doing so, because this is a pretty remarkable movie.
The film opens with a woman’s eye. Thus begins an un-erotic sequence in which we see this woman get a real tattoo on her ass. It is a tattoo of the title of the film.
I’ve never seen an opening sequence like this. It’s ballsy as hell, showing right off the bat a staggering amount of commitment to the project by those involved. It screams, with pride, ‘this is not just a mere film—this is a lifestyle’, and you believe them. You can’t not—the tattoo is undeniable, visceral proof.
We are then plopped into the world they are so proud of. It is trashy and dirty, yet strangely calm and serene—as green as it is brown. Stories are shared, and handjobs are given just because:
What follows is a series of porn vignettes, loosely linked in that they are stories being told of past sexual encounters the bikers have had. Not all of these shorts are good—in fact, the best of them, the first one, is only half-good. But the half that’s good is mesmerizing—just look at this gorgeous, Eric Rohmer-esque lighting, and the delectable purple lens flare:
The second half of this first vignette, though weaker, is not without its own charm. The vibe of the bike shop is similar to the QuickStop of Clerks—the owner even has a similar delivery and look to that of Dante. And there are a couple clever dutch angles, and one or two truly beautiful shots, as seen below. Ultimately though, this half is marred by its grossness—in particular, there’s an anal scene where more comes out of one actress’ ass than mere semen. Don’t worry, I didn’t snap a pic of it:
In general, the sex in this film is trashy and weird. None of it is particularly erotic, although many of the actresses are quite attractive. But, it is consistent in its trashiness and weirdness, which makes it the sex at least somewhat interesting, and undeniably an artistic statement. Much like the protagonists of Harmony Korine’s Trash Humpers have their own unique sense of humor that is funny to them, these bikers have a brand of sex that is truly their own. And in its best moments, this sex is presented with an unexpected sensitivity and togetherness:
The shirts in the movie are great, by the way. You saw an awesome one earlier in that dutch angle, and here are two more: (If you can’t tell, the one below reads ‘I’d Rather Eat Shit Than Ride A Kawasaki’)
Even in weak scenes, there are touches of brilliance to be found. These shots of Ron Jeremy receiving a blowjob feel like social commentary—I love the bizarre sleep mask and off-kilter television:
The film ends with a montage of the actresses in the film who have been in Iron Horse, a biker magazine. It’s a great sequence, if only for the phrase ‘Iron Horse covercunt’ which I look forward to using as an obscure insult:
Disappointingly, the tattoo in the end credits is clearly not real, mere ink on skin as opposed to the one at the start. But, it’s a charming, chilling image in its own right:
Seek this film out if you dug the stills I took. However beautiful some of these images are, they’re even better in motion. And I left a lot of interesting stuff out, for you to discover on your own.
4 out of 5 Codys.