"Lesbian Hospital" is a series from Girlfriends Films that didn't make it, with only two segments produced over a six-year period and none since 2009. It was meant to fulfill a motif in Lesbian Cinema known as "medical instruments erotica", much beloved by such auteurs as Dana Vespoli and Tanya Hyde but resisted by a wider audience.
That's because this sort of fetish is outre and hard to watch unless one shares a peculiar affection for watching dangerous looking metal objects inserted into a lady's orifices. Because this is emanating from a respected and almost crusading Feminist Lesbian label the inherent misogyny in such content is taken off the table, but that doesn't make it pleasing or even technically erotic.
I realize that BDSM themed porn is in the ascent, especially with the mainstream success of such crap as the "Shades of" series of novels and now lousy movies. But it's safe to assume that the crazy visuals of speculum-induced gynecological close-ups or oddball machinery to play with women's nipples will never catch on beyond a privileged few.
Where this reboot of the series improves on the original is Girlfriends' wise decision to bring on big talent to try and save the project, in the form of Lisa Ann and Bobbi Starr. Lisa plays a doctor who seduces patient Heather Starlet, and this combination of superstars is irresistible in the finale.
Earlier we have Bobbi Starr, on her way to becoming one of the best, uninhibited players of her day, going through all manner of abuse at the hands (literally) of the assembled femme doctors who run the local hospital devoted to improving women's orgasms almost to the breaking point.
Presented in time-honored white-coater format, the team of physicians numbering KC Kelly, Avy Scott, Nicole Moore and -uh-oh! - Aiden Starr (so famous from her BDSM lesbian dominatrix specialty performances) paw and poke at poor Bobbi until she's a mass of human jelly dozens of Big O's later.
Are we to marvel at the contraptions inserted into her or attached to her passive body? Or are we supposed to register it as high camp the way Moore and Starr pretend to be oh-so serious as they get their rocks off on the poor damsel?
It all hits me as impossibly infra-dig, playing more like an off-off Broadway uncensored piece of performance art minus the guys in drag that would normally populate such a sub-Ludlam staging. No, Girlfriends is all-female all the time, so it's take it or leave it watching these porno charades.
That's because this sort of fetish is outre and hard to watch unless one shares a peculiar affection for watching dangerous looking metal objects inserted into a lady's orifices. Because this is emanating from a respected and almost crusading Feminist Lesbian label the inherent misogyny in such content is taken off the table, but that doesn't make it pleasing or even technically erotic.
I realize that BDSM themed porn is in the ascent, especially with the mainstream success of such crap as the "Shades of" series of novels and now lousy movies. But it's safe to assume that the crazy visuals of speculum-induced gynecological close-ups or oddball machinery to play with women's nipples will never catch on beyond a privileged few.
Where this reboot of the series improves on the original is Girlfriends' wise decision to bring on big talent to try and save the project, in the form of Lisa Ann and Bobbi Starr. Lisa plays a doctor who seduces patient Heather Starlet, and this combination of superstars is irresistible in the finale.
Earlier we have Bobbi Starr, on her way to becoming one of the best, uninhibited players of her day, going through all manner of abuse at the hands (literally) of the assembled femme doctors who run the local hospital devoted to improving women's orgasms almost to the breaking point.
Presented in time-honored white-coater format, the team of physicians numbering KC Kelly, Avy Scott, Nicole Moore and -uh-oh! - Aiden Starr (so famous from her BDSM lesbian dominatrix specialty performances) paw and poke at poor Bobbi until she's a mass of human jelly dozens of Big O's later.
Are we to marvel at the contraptions inserted into her or attached to her passive body? Or are we supposed to register it as high camp the way Moore and Starr pretend to be oh-so serious as they get their rocks off on the poor damsel?
It all hits me as impossibly infra-dig, playing more like an off-off Broadway uncensored piece of performance art minus the guys in drag that would normally populate such a sub-Ludlam staging. No, Girlfriends is all-female all the time, so it's take it or leave it watching these porno charades.