I wouldn’t even want to begin to comment on the Point A to Point B logic of John Leslie’s features, save to say Mad Love runs essentially the same course of portraying sex from the cockeyed view of the eccentric.
We start by asking ourselves a slew of questions like who are Damien Cashmere and Jon Dough – stranded motorists who come upon a quaint Bay Area Victorian home – a monument either to flea market eclecticism, or trendy restaurants. Are we going to get the gender flipside of an old Sandra Locke movie called Death Game (one of its titles) in which two female motorists turn hospitality into bizarre sexual kindling? Or perhaps a spin on A Clockwork Orange where car trouble is used as a gain entry for the rape of the home’s hostess? No, but stay tuned. What transpires is a strange scene (Aja consumes Dough and Cashmere orally at the dinner table) that goes beyond its obvious zucchini and eggplant symbolism.
Later on, Jon Martin and Kendal Marx agree to “house sit.” Same home, same strange owner – Ben Davis (Walter Electric) who looks at the world from a wheel chair and strange, sad eyes. The house is haunted with sexual ghosts – and from what we can gather – all came upon its front doors in need, in live’s past. Marx apparently had been Davis’ former lover in one of those lives. Only the payoff comes upon us in such rapid fire, we’re left with more questions about the nature of Marx’ past relationship to Davis. That hi-speed resolution is probably my only criticism of this piece.Marx who had been used by this industry in relatively obscure sexual asides, rates full-length exposure courtesy of this performance. She’s attractive, has a great body and possesses a keen sexual aura. Though he may leave us hanging by a few threads here and there, director Leslie nonetheless gives us another sophisticated, erotic gem.