Movie Review by Val Williams from Gamelink
“Lost Love” is a Serious Movie, with themes of grief, loss, regret and sorrow, but — of course — redemption as well. Because it is a Brad Armstrong movie, there are strong women and sympathetic men and lots of philosophical conversation, and Brad Armstrong gets laid at least once. It is a movie to watch all the way through, and a movie in which the people who direct and act are doing their very best to make sure you know that they want you onboard with their emotions – lust not least among them. Jessica Drake is, as always, thoughtful, perfect, and intense, and the movie takes its time with plenty of non-sex plot to savor and five solid sex scenes to enjoy. I say five solid scenes – there are also two kind of odd masturbation scenes that, handled less seriously, might come off as a little creepy, but you can get past that. I did.
When we begin, Jessica Drake has just lost the love of her life to some disaster and isn’t handling it well; not handling it well in this context means slipping away from the funeral to lose herself in a reverie about sex with him, in a dream sequence that has none of the trappings of a dream. Ryan Driller just shows up and starts in – it’s romantic, all right, and you can see why Jessica would miss that action. She misses the rest of it, too, though – the little moments alone, the not-so-epic moments that make up a life. The epic sex is followed by Morbid Masturbation Scene 1, in which Jessica lays out a suit of Ryan’s clothes and fucks him in absentia.
A year later, we’re told, Penny Pax and Donnie Rock are in bed fixing to have a quickie before the day starts; I’m going to be honest here and let you knwo that although Penny is seems to be Jessica’s sister and therefore connected to Ryan somehow, she seems to have her own sadness and drama going on, but we are not told why. Still, it’s Penny Pax, who is a redhead with big natural tits, and honestly, I don’t need much more than that to enjoy a sex scene. So if you like redheads with big natural tits, take a breather from loss and regret and watch them titties bounce.
It turns out that with emotions tunning high, grief counseling sessions are a great place to score; Jessica hooks up with wild girl Jessie Lee for a steamy lesbian tryst in the junkyard where the wrecked car that almost killed Jessie is moldering (honestly it doesn’t look like that bad a wreck, but Jessie – a raven-haired tattooed Goth girl – seems to feel it was pretty rough), and while Brad Armstrong may genuinely be upset about his best friend dying, he has to know by now that there is a certain kind of woman for whom a man’s tears are the sharpest of aphrodisiacs, and Kira Noir is one of those women. No junkyard for him – they don’t make it any farther than a the bathroom of the meeting hall, and the noises they make fucking in there must certainly be alerting the rest of the grievers that there are still life-affirming things going on in the world about them.
I do not know, nor do I need to know, how Brad Armstrong found a cemetery in which he could film a fairly long and in no way surreptitious masturbation scene. It’s enough for me to see it happen. I mean, masturbation scenes are of limited utility to me as a porn viewer, but outside is exciting and Jessica Drake is hot, so in the same way that I am totally willing to watch a hot redhead with big natural tits fucking even if I don’t know why she’s sad, I am willing to watch Jessica Drake masturbating on what appears to be the actual grave of someone named Elizabeth Carey who died in 1985. I hope that either Elizabeth Carey’s family aren’t porn fans, or that they really are.
Having achieved catharsis atop the earthly remains of a woman three decades gone, Jessica leaves the cemetery, only to run into Small Hands, who was watching her; it’s not the first time he’s seen someone humping a tombstone, he says, and if it’s not the most orthodox of pickup lines, it works on Jessica enough to get her to invite him back to her place, where she asks him to put on one of Ryan’s suits before they have sex. As would you, he agrees, and that’s what she needs to get the juices flowing, so it’s Small Hands’ lucky day.
There is a twist. I have cleverly left you no clues as to what it is, and have in fact deliberately misled you almost as cleverly as Brad Armstrong did.