Let's put it this way. You have a better chance of thumbing a ride and surviving a trip to Las Vegas, or in this case, Palm Springs, with Hunter S. Thompson and Timothy Leary, than taking one with Kid Vegas and Johnny Toxic. Or, to put it another way, it would be easier for a camel to drive a 16-wheeler through the eye of a needle than reasonably expect a sex scene or blowjob to proceed uninterrupted in a Kid Vegas flick. But we've been through all of that before with other Kid flicks, and, although the screen is chock full of eye candy at any given time in this one - the calorie/cum content is as minimal as ever.
As video's go, Kid Vegas - Trenchcoat Pornographer does not suffer fools gladly. It's both the equivalent of a mental ward and chormosomal alteration, with a stream of visual unconsciousness and space-time warps that would fuck with Einstein's head. But that's Einstein. On the other hand, the Kid, an overwhelming life force figure in some circles, speaks his audience's language - that is, if the dialect consists of Pee Wee Herman humor, blowing snot, trampolining motel beds, mooning or depicting stomach-turning examples of man's inhumanity to dinosaur poop. It's all hear, folks. During one extended but hilarious interlude, Johnny Toxic dons an absurdist bear hat and no public urinal is safe. In another, the Kid and Toxic "mourn" the departure of girl toys Doll and Honey Kiss who apparently hightailed it off the set with an unscripted cab getaway. Maybe they were the lucky ones. Naughtia Childs, by the way, looks great and is fast becoming the Margaret Dumont to these Marx Bros. Kid Redd, a W.C. Fields-type, also makes an appearance for whatever aesthetic purpose it serves.
When push comes to shove, Vegas, who won last year's Adult Video Nudes Award, may have generated just enough electricity to make lightning strike twice. I suggest clearing the decks and wearing rubber shoes.
