Rodney Moore's career is emblematic of a pornographer who started as an amateur and never graduated to the pro ranks, probably because he wants to be independent at all costs. This first in a successful series is crudely made and crude in content, by design.
Of course, amateur porn has gained traction over the years, and currently most performers create their own content. They are pros, but not availing themselves of a professional crew (and all the costs that involves). So watching Rodney at work here (he alternates holding the camera with his co-star Wolf Savage) it's clear that he's interested in just the basics.
What he delivers is what I would call Max Hardcore Lite. Namely, the ugly, even yucky excesses that the notorious Max (who had the gall to use the alternate pseudonym Max Steiner, defaming one of moviedom's greatest composers) emphasized, but without the violent, woman-abusing stuff. Of course, abusing can be a relative term in this particular universe, as Rodney's bread & butter trademark is his tendency to ejaculate on women's faces to a nearly laughable extent. It's akin to the familiar BDSM humiliation gimmick of writing (with lipstick or whatever) dirty words on an actress's forehead as a form of debasement. The fact that there is an audience that gets a kick out of that is not really so strange in a world where Joe Rogan is replacing Howard Stern as the most popular and highest-paid radio host, while Donald Trump (bite my tongue) may be elected president again. Yikes!
Among the actresses here is an impressive one-shot: Reggae', whose large natural breasts are a treat. She is brought to Rodney's attention by Guy DiSilva, who is put on the spot by Rod, asking Guy: "Is she your girlfriend?", to which Guy stammers, "You might call her that".
Of course, amateur porn has gained traction over the years, and currently most performers create their own content. They are pros, but not availing themselves of a professional crew (and all the costs that involves). So watching Rodney at work here (he alternates holding the camera with his co-star Wolf Savage) it's clear that he's interested in just the basics.
What he delivers is what I would call Max Hardcore Lite. Namely, the ugly, even yucky excesses that the notorious Max (who had the gall to use the alternate pseudonym Max Steiner, defaming one of moviedom's greatest composers) emphasized, but without the violent, woman-abusing stuff. Of course, abusing can be a relative term in this particular universe, as Rodney's bread & butter trademark is his tendency to ejaculate on women's faces to a nearly laughable extent. It's akin to the familiar BDSM humiliation gimmick of writing (with lipstick or whatever) dirty words on an actress's forehead as a form of debasement. The fact that there is an audience that gets a kick out of that is not really so strange in a world where Joe Rogan is replacing Howard Stern as the most popular and highest-paid radio host, while Donald Trump (bite my tongue) may be elected president again. Yikes!
Among the actresses here is an impressive one-shot: Reggae', whose large natural breasts are a treat. She is brought to Rodney's attention by Guy DiSilva, who is put on the spot by Rod, asking Guy: "Is she your girlfriend?", to which Guy stammers, "You might call her that".