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Before that, Kelly’s script (the story is credited to him and D. The film keeps us wondering what will happen when these two troubled ménages collide-which they eventually do, to hair-raising effect. Joe also pimps Harlow out for private customers-partly for profit, partly because jealousy seems to have started out as a turn-on for him, although it has now turned into a noxious poison. Joe and Harlow run a company named Viper Boyz, which specializes in much rougher stuff than the benign King Cobra Joe’s product harps more on bikes, tattoos, and muscles. Stephen walks in one day on his live-in star: “Are you still reading about yourself?” Brent sighs: “If one more fan dedicates a blog to me, I will just die.”Īlso taking an interest in Brent, both as fans and as wolves slavering to get in on the financial action, are another porn-making duo: Joe (James Franco, who previously starred in Kelly’s debut feature I Am Michael, 2015) and his star/boyfriend Harlow (Keegan Allen, who manages to be at once lunkishly comic and deeply menacing). But narcissism feeds itself and gets jaded.
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It’s not long before Stephen is paying Brent serious money for hardcore work, which he takes to eagerly-in a briskly comic montage set to the Scissor Sisters’ “Filthy/Gorgeous”-and in which Brent never fails to give his patented ingénu glance to the camera, which is his ever-faithful mirror. You have something very, very special,” replies Stephen-music to his protégé’s ears.
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The boy and his mentor are a perfect match: the older man’s appreciative eye is fuel for the vanity of the young stud-in-the-making, who asks in a pleading voice, “Hey, how was I?” “You were amazing. This consists of him writhing in his shorts on the sofa and making come-hither eyes at the camera-which is plenty to persuade Stephen, who directs homemade gay porn under the King Cobra label, that he has a new star on his hands. The film begins with starry-eyed teenager Sean-played by Garrett Clayton, from Disney’s Teen Beach Movie-showing up at Stephen’s house for an audition. Conway: Bryan is here renamed Stephen and played by a disarmingly mild, self-effacing Christian Slater. King Cobra centers on the fate of a gay porn producer based on Bryan Kocis, whose misadventures were recounted in the book Cobra Killer by Andrew E. Porn people wind up badly, if not dead then at least in psychic tatters: it’s the bottom line of movies such as Boogie Nights, Paul Schrader’s Auto Focus (which King Cobra somewhat resembles, although that film was about shared amateur, rather than professional, interests), and The Notorious Bettie Page (although you can speculate whether its heroine’s retreat into evangelical Christianity was a happy ending or not). It’s not surprising that such a study of human fallibility is set in the porn business-not because of any inherent moral failings in that world, but because cinematic depictions of its residents invariably end up showing people losing their lives, their marbles, their faith in themselves. This is one of the most painful aperçus of a film that isn’t short on insights to make you wince-insights into vulnerability, acquisitiveness, exploitation, vanity, violence. Then he discovers that, without the name, he’s nothing. The film centers on a young gay porn star who takes the name “Brent Corrigan.” When he breaks away from the pimpresario who launched him, Brent decides to peddle his talent elsewhere-after all, his body and his flirtatious looks to camera are what made him a star, and they haven’t changed. It’s also a fascinating essay on the nature of star appeal, and the primacy of the Brand. Based on a true story-and a deliriously tawdry one at that-Justin Kelly’s King Cobra is a sometimes agonizing study of love, lust, need, and money.