The Porn Review That Never Was

I was cleaning out my documents file when I came upon this review I did for a trash cinema retrospective at the Warhol museum months ago. It's for a vintage dirty movie called Abigail Lesley Is Back In Town. My editors decided at the last minute that they didn't want it, but I feel a little jilted. I mean, I hate to think that I sat through weird porn for nothing. Somebody has got to read it.

So for all you '70s porn enthusiasts out there, here's a little something from the vault. Enjoy.


Top of the Trash Heap with Abigail Lesley: My Journey into Underground Cinema at Warhol’s Supertrash Exhibit

A grandfatherly man sits at the front of The Warhol Museum’s small movie theater. Just two weeks after a run-in with congestive heart failure and subsequent surgery, filmmaker Joe Sarno has braved his condition to travel from New York to Pittsburgh to curate his 1975 film, the soft core Abigail Lesley is Back in Town. Endearing and easy-going, he befriends the audience with his willingness to offer up advice on how to get into the industry. He doesn’t fit the traditional image of porn directors, especially the mustachioed, polyester smut peddlers more recently realized by Burt Reynolds in Boogie Nights. But then again, Abigail Lesley is not your typical dirty movie.

Unfortunately, I’ve come into this Supertrash film fest a few viewings too late (three, to be exact), but this viewing was a good start in terms of illustrating this branch of underground cinema. It’s a noteworthy addition to the history of sex films, before hardcore put an end to the plot-driven reels people watched in the seclusion of triple X theaters, and before VHS, DVD, and, of course, the Internet made it possible to watch pornography in the privacy of your own home.

Written and directed by Sarno, the story revolves around a small seaside village that’s turned upside down when a former resident, notorious sex maven Abigail Lesley, returns to shake things up. In no time, her home becomes a liberated den where the small-minded townsfolk can live out their wildest fantasies. Only the pretty, repressed Priscilla holds out even as everyone, including her husband, becomes entangled in Lesley’s web of pleasure. Will Priscilla give in and realize her most secret desires? Or will she stay true to her convictions?

On the surface, Abigail Lesley is wonderfully ‘70s, with plenty of wrap dresses, bell-bottoms, and women walking on beaches in platform shoes. And, of course, there’s not a bra in sight. The actors are nothing like the plastic, perfectly groomed adult stars of today, but are complete with the au naturale trappings of the disco days, with all the body hair, cellulite and unaugmented breasts that come with it.

But it’s the dialogue within each long, unedited shot that really shines with an artful low-budget quality – you get the feeling that Sarno penned these gems with a loving hand. From the moment the title character is referred to as a “hot-pants bitch,” standout lines continue to pepper the story throughout. A husky voiced Jennifer Jordan (Abigail Lesley) channels Mae West as she delivers the character defining, “I’m hardly respectable”, and you can’t help but giggle when Priscilla’s swinging Aunt Drucilla yells, “You’re so tight-assed you make me wanna cry!” One could say it’s so bad it’s good, but really, it’s just good.

Despite the sex scenes, which sometimes verged on painfully long, the film was a surprisingly sophisticated work that approached the question of sexual identity with sensitivity and humor. There are plenty of three-ways, four-ways, girl-on-girl and such, but nary a hint of sleaziness. As far as I’m concerned, this was an enjoyable late introduction to this film festival.