What a difference a year makes! It was just about this time last year that I was wandering around the office, kvetching to anyone within earshot about how I was becoming the dumping ground for low-end products to review. In particular, I was harping on this Rodney Moore guy, another one-man show in an arena already over-populated by more triple-threat writer/producer/directors than you'll find at Musso & Frank's Hollywood Grill at any given lunch hour. Rod seemed to be fond of static camera set-ups; with himself as the center of attention, racing from videocam to sex partner and back in order to change the framing. This hardly made for mesmeric viewing, and I recall taking him to the floor on more than one occasion.

Month by month, Rodney's been improving his technique in ways of an almost subversive nature; ways that demand a reassessment of talent unfolding as assuredly as the Clinton Administration is unraveling. Gone are the locked-down shots. Gone are the interminably pedantic interviews. Gone are the distracting F/X. Now, Rodney has a vision. It may be less than revolutionary, at times even a bit repetitive, but a vision it is, and Rodney has christened it — what else? — Rodnievision.

This translates into two categories: technique and style. In category 1, I believe that Moore is a true pioneer. Although the technology is readily available to anyone, no one's pounced on it the way he has. A simple microprocessor in his Rod's camera enables him to give his footage a look halfway between film and video; coupled with a "steadycam" device that smooths out bumps in his hand-held footage, it's an appealing package — creating an immediacy not often seen in far more expensive productions.

However, cutting-edge technology alone hardly demands our attention; it's what he does with it that warrants a second look. That's style. Borrowing liberally from the Buttman/Bus Stop Tales mode, Rodney "encounters" his partners in the faux-random fashion so popular today; the camera lens substituting for the viewer's own point-of-view, as the fishies are baited and snagged. Once he gets the babes back into his digs, however, is where John Stagliano, Ed Powers and Rodney Moore part company.

While Stagliano has his surrogates Rocco and Felipe performing the genital gymnastics, and Powers is still stuck in the stone age of self-videography via security camera, Rodney dives right in and tapes the action while in action: right on top, looking down as he plows the fertile soil. A second recorder (on tripod) captures the event in wider two-shots, enabling a form of cross-cutting heretofore unseen. Even better, I found, was the picture-within-picture where both perspectives are on screen side by side; the effect is used judiciously for maximum impact. Now, we may quibble about content — I think Rodney has little to say in the way of effective pick-up lines, and his companions even less in response — but there is no question that he can elicit numerous authentic orgasms from Lana Sands, Pearl, and Umma. These natural ladies, unencumbered (thankfully!) by the tiresome "enlargements" of typical performers, just love to suck 'n' fuck repeatedly and unpretentiously. He's no slouch in the pop shot department either: his liquid loads may lack the arcing elan of a Peter North explosion, but what a bucketful — and each a smothering facial, no less! Moore also does for close-ups what the microscope did for the biological sciences. If you're the kind of viewer that loves every bump in the areola, every fold of puckered asshole, every nubble of shaven stubble, then don't miss this release. To paraphrase Groucho Marx, "Lady, if I were any closer I'd be behind you!"

I also joked, many months ago, that Moore ought to give up trying to be Orson Welles by handing each minute detail of the production himself. I now humbly eat crow and anticipate the next installment eagerly. Retailers, stock deeply and recommend highly. What a difference a year makes! Also featuring Brea, Kira, Shay Thomas, Cumisha Amado, Gabrielle, and Greta Carlson.