I made Seduction Cinema a top priority in the early years with the goal of establishing a ‘brand’ name. When you think of cola, you think of Coca-Cola. If a fan hears about a soft-core erotic film, I wanted them to think… Seduction Cinema.
In this age of media conglomeratisation, some recent accounts of contemporary cinema have attempted to supplement the more traditional concerns of textual analysis with an examination of the multifaceted network of intertexts which surround a blockbuster release. From the licensing of merchandising such as fast food tie-ins, to the promotional tools of trailers and TV spots, the modern blockbuster produces a supersystem of multimedia marketing and commercial exploitation around the movie franchise.
As Eileen R Meehan has argued, in relation to one of the first major franchise blockbusters, Batman (Tim Burton, 1989), ‘the film per se becomes only one component in a product line that extends beyond the theatre, even beyond our contact with mass media, to penetrate the markets for toys, bedding, trinkets, cups and other minutiae comprising one’s everyday life inside a commoditised, consumerised culture’.2
To fully understand, then, the nature of contemporary blockbuster cinema, Meehan argues that we need to look at how the blockbuster fits within wider corporate structures and market strategies. Yet while this is a valuable intervention, these elements are only part of the picture. What are rarely examined are those rather disreputable, subterranean films which feed off that very same web of intertextual associations and consumer awareness. When Spiderman (Sam Raimi, 2002) was released in May 2002, it was accompanied by a marketing spend of approximately $50 million, with a plethora of tie-in promotions, including a new ride at Universal Studios entitled ‘Spiderman Rocks’, a Spiderman video game produced by Activision, and the release of the film’s theme song ‘Hero’ performed by Nickelback.
There was one tie-in release, however, that was not part of this corporate strategy. That was Spiderbabe (Johnny Crash, 2003), a soft-core spoof of the Hollywood blockbuster, which drew on the plot and characters of Spiderman in order to narrativise its soft-core sex scenes. By associating itself with the release of a tentpole blockbuster, this ultra low-budget film was able to capitalise on the attendant consumer interest to distinguish itself among the plethora of soft-core material available and achieve worldwide distribution. Indeed, this was one of a number of soft-core spoofs which production company ei Independent Cinema have produced since 1999, including The Erotic Witch Project (John Bacchus, 1999), Gladiator Eroticvs: The Lesbian Warriors (John Bacchus, 2001), Play-mate of the Apes (John Bacchus, 2002) and Lord of the G-Strings (Terry West, 2003). This chapter will interrogate these instances of subterranean appropriation, mapping out how ei Independent Cinema3 capitalises on the surrounding web of intertexts and associations around a blockbuster title to distinguish their soft-core product in an economic market which does not allow for large marketing budgets or expensive promotion. It will then pay attention to the manner in which Spiderbabe works textually; showing how the narrative emphasis on spoof and parody – which is so central to the film’s strategy of distinction – actually works in tension with the generic requirement for lengthy scenes of soft-core sexual activity. Ultimately, this will offer a privileged insight into the often-obscured symbiotic relationship between independent and studio filmmaking in the contemporary media landscape. But first, let us turn to ei Independent Cinema, the production company behind these ‘soft-core spoofs’.
SEX, LIES AND VIDEOTAPES
ei Independent Cinema was founded in 1994 by Michael L. Raso to serve as a ‘grass roots distribution outlet for low/no budget moviemakers and their films’.4 Initially focused on distributing genre pictures and developing a slate of comedy/horror pictures, they gradually came to realise that they would need to diversify to guarantee the continued viability of their studio. As Raso explains, ‘My fellow colleagues and I were concentrating on horror and comedy. We never intended to shoot erotica. The market demanded erotica, so we produced it.’5
FIGURE 7.1 ‘Sexploiting’ the spoof: the poster for the ‘soft-core spoof’ Spiderbabe
Adapting to the traditional commercial pressures of supply and demand, Raso set up an erotica-themed label, Seduction Cinema, which soon brought some moderate success with titles such as Vampire Seduction (John Bacchus, 1998) and International Necktie Strangler (William Hellfire, 1998) although it wasn’t until the release of The Erotic Witch Project in 1999 that ei Independent Cinema hit upon a strategy that would achieve substantial returns and bring their micro-budget cinema to a much larger audience.
By taking the basic premise of The Blair Witch Project (Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sánchez, 1999) and altering the narrative to allow for lengthy scenes of soft-core lesbian sex, Raso and his team fashioned a surprise underground hit that went on to gain international distribution in the home video and cable markets. As this came to serve as the template for the subsequent ‘soft-core spoofs’, it is worth considering for a moment the intertextual strategies through which The Erotic Witch Project and other Seduction Cinema titles were able to distinguish themselves in the marketplace.
Firstly, the titles of these soft-core spoofs are generally based around a sexually suggestive pun such as Planet of the Apes (Tim Burton, 2001) becoming Play-mate of the Apes, or, as in this case, they simply add the prefix ‘erotic’ or ‘sexy’ to the title, hence The Erotic Witch Project, The Erotic Time Machine (John Bacchus, 2002) or The Sexy Adventures of Van Helsing (Max Von Diesel, 2004). These playful titles help to associate the spoof with a recognised commercial property and siphon off some of the attendant consumer interest. This works in tandem with the box art which is designed to imitate the poster of the antecedent property, in this case featuring the following tagline overlaid over some eerie woodland images:
In November 1999, three college coeds disappeared in the woods of Bacchusville NJ, while searching for the mythical Erotic Witch. Two weeks later their home video was found.
As should be clear, the Seduction Cinema parodies work by capitalising on existing consumer knowledge of the mainstream hit they are spoofing. By creating associations with the product, through title, box art and tagline, this serves to distinguish the product from the other softcore pornography on the market. Of course, it could be said that the choice of The Blair Witch Project as the object of their spoofing turned out to be a rather canny business move as the production values necessitated by their ultra-low budget – shooting on digital video, amateur actors, shaky camera work – could be excused by the similarly debased stylings of The Blair Witch Project itself (an excuse that could not be used when they went on to spoof a multimillion dollar franchise like Lord of the Rings).
In the years following the success of The Erotic Witch Project, ei Independent Cinema developed this model by offering soft-core spoofs of almost every major Hollywood blockbuster that was released. According to Paige Kay Davis, the company’s Corporate Communications Director,
We begin pre-production on a spoof after learning, frequently through trade magazines, of a Hollywood production that seems a good match. The timing of the release of the spoof to the Hollywood film, in conjunction with production values, is the criteria the buyer uses when deciding to pick up a title.6
As we can see in the following table, this means that ei Independent Cinema would often shoot, edit and release a film in a matter of months to capitalise on the release of the latest hit:
| BLOCKBUSTER RELEASE |
SEDUCTION SPOOF |
Gladiator
21 Nov 2000 |
Gladiator Eroticvs
6 Mar 2001 |
Tomb Raider
13 Nov 2001 |
Mummy Raider
8 Jan 2002 |
Planet of the Apes
21 Mar 2002 |
Play-mate of the Apes
26 Feb 2002 |
Time Machine
23 Jul 2002 |
Erotic Time Machine
27 Aug 2002 |
Lord of the Rings
12 Nov 2002 |
Lord of the G-Strings
25 Mar 2003 |
Spiderman
1 Nov 2002 |
Spiderbabe
14 Oct 2003 |
Van Helsing
19 Oct 2004 |
Sexy Adventures of Van Helsing
12 Oct 2004 |
King Kong
28 Mar 2006 |
Kinky Kong
05 Sept 2006 |
Ironman
30 Sept 2008 |
Ironbabe
18 Nov 2008 |
The associative promotional strategies utilised by ei Independent Cinema are made explicit in the 8x10 publicity glossies they use to sell their films at film markets. These are aimed specifically at the film buyers who are considering whether to purchase Seduction titles for distribution. As we can see in the following list of ‘selling points’ indicated on the glossy for Kinky Kong (John Bacchus, 2006), there is a distinct emphasis on the commercial potential of spoofing a successful blockbuster:
i) MPAA R-Rated
ii) Heavily promoted on top web sites (including Mr Skin with over 6 million hits per month)
iii) Full page ads in national publications including Femme Fatales
iv) Spoof of King Kong which made over $200 million at the box office7
With budgets under $100,000, and some even less than $10,000, it is, of course, very rare for a film at this budget level to even secure a legitimate release. Yet these Seduction films were able to capitalise on their association with a blockbuster release to gain worldwide exposure. Indeed, through an exclusive home video deal with Ventura Distribution, ei Independent Cinema would secure releases for their films in mainstream outlets such as Blockbuster Video, Hollywood Video, Best Buy, Borders and Tower Video.
So, with recent studies of contemporary Hollywood laying emphasis on the ways in which media conglomerates privilege corporate synergy to exploit properties across various media outlets and thereby cross-promote their products through recognisable franchises and official tie-ins, it is significant to note that these cross-promotional activities also laid the way open for unofficial tie-ins which feed off those very same intertextual relationships. Imitating the will-to-brand in Hollywood, Michael Raso created his own brand identity for Seduction Cinema which would rest upon associative techniques aimed at capitalising upon the wider consumer interest surrounding these major releases.
The intertextual properties discussed above were not the only ways, however, in which the label developed its audience. A number of promotional methods were devised to draw attention to their products and build a devoted ‘cult’ audience. Reflecting David Andrew’s observation that, ‘unlike corporate soft-core, which does not stress promotion and has largely ignored its fans, cult soft-core evinces its classical lineage through vigorous, interactive publicity’8; ei Independent Cinema actively cultivated fandom around their releases. This was undertaken through presence at fan conventions, such as the Fangoria-sponsored Chiller Theatre; the publishing of an in-house fanzine Alternative Cinema which couples features on Seduction Cinema releases with broader cult-related articles; a variety of promotions at college/university events and, most importantly, the upkeep of affiliated websites which have brought Seduction Cinema the kind of media spotlight which is rare for a low-budget company to achieve.
They have further attempted to distance themselves from the business model of corporate soft-core through a move towards what I. Q. Hunter terms ‘intentional commercial trash’9: the celebration of a calculatedly inept brand of high camp and low humour exemplified by companies such as Troma and Full Moon. We can see this too in the DVDs which are closer to the cult collectible than the usual anonymous soft-porn release, complete with behind-the-scenes documentaries, outtakes/bloopers, music videos, deleted scenes and trailers for other releases in the Seduction Cinema oeuvre.
Crucially, the Seduction label relies on a female star system reminiscent both of the classical Hollywood system of contract players, and the more recent cultish conception of ‘scream queens’ such as Brinke Stevens and Linnea Quigley. In fact, star Misty Mundae (real name Erin Brown) has come to be something of a figurehead for Seduction Cinema, having appeared in over thirty features for the company. As director Michael Raso attests, Mundae’s popularity with fans was key to the success of the Seduction model:
Her normality deviates from the classic soft-core image as portrayed by late-night cable programmers. She’s not bleached blonde, her hair isn’t teased, she doesn’t have fake breasts. She’s natural. The folks at Penthouse and Playboy would not see her as acceptable, but that would be missing the point. She’s wildly popular because we’re presenting her as she really is.10
FIGURE 7.2 A ‘knowing’ imitation of blockbuster appeal in Spiderbabe
This emphasis on cultivating fandom around their releases through vigorous publicity strategies, an evocation of a trash sensibility, and promotion of a distinctly ‘natural’ star illustrate the ways in which Seduction Cinema attempted to distinguish their product from other soft-core films on the market. To explore these strategies of distinction further, I will now turn to Mundae’s two most prominent star vehicles, Lord of the G-Strings and Spiderbabe.
SEXY SUPERHEROES AND VOLUPTUOUS VILLAINS
Although these films are soft-core, they do share an affinity with the notorious hard-core take-offs of mainstream cinema such as The Sperminator (Allen Stuart, 1985) and Shaving Ryan’s Privates (Christopher Hull, 1999). They are using a ‘witty’ play on the title of a blockbuster film to promote their product in the marketplace. Yet the difference, as I. Q. Hunter has observed, is that ‘whereas hard-core quickly abandons narrative for lengthy depictions of sex’, the Seduction spoof, ‘pads out its length with story, dialogue and other erotically redundant business’.11 So whereas a hard-core title like The Sperminator spends little time evoking the narrative or iconography of The Terminator (James Cameron, 1984), both Lord of the G-Strings and Spiderbabe spend a considerable proportion of their running time playfully spoofing their respective blockbuster properties, relying on both recreations and inversions of recognisable scenarios.
In the case of Spiderbabe, Misty Mundae plays Patricia Porker (Peter Parker in the original), a shy college girl in love with Mark Jeremy (MJ). She is bitten by a genetically engineered spider which transforms her into Spiderbabe, a ‘wall-climbing, building-bounding beauty with superhuman strength and an erotic appetite to match’.12 Throughout the film, subtle – and not so subtle – allusions are made to the parodied text, from the wrestling bout in which Spiderbabe proves her strength, to the infamous upside-down kiss which predictably moves further down the body. With most of the plotline from Spiderman being recreated – albeit at a much lower budget and with the female central characters in various states of undress – the key alteration is that one of the side effects from the spider’s bite is that he/she is said to ‘become more prone towards procreation’.
Hence, the plot abounds with scenes of soft-core lovemaking in which Misty Mundae and other starlets shed their clothes, halting the narrative while they indulge their supposed carnal desires. This creates a tension within the film between the narrative emphasis on spoof and parody in which recognisable plot points are recreated, and the generic requirement of softcore pornography which requires lengthy scenes of sexual activity. As Craig Fischer has noted, ‘the moments that define pornography as a genre are descriptive moments, independent of plot [which render] the human body, for voyeuristic purposes’.13 The problem, however, is that this often acts in tension with the forward momentum of the narrative.
FIGURE 7.3 Seduction scream queen: cult star Misty Mundae as Spiderbabe
This dichotomy is most clear in the differences between the R-Rated and Unrated cuts of Spiderbabe. By producing both R-Rated and Unrated versions of their films, ei Independent Cinema cater both for the high street retailer which will only stock MPAA-rated product, and the devoted fans who seek out the uncut version of the release. The primary difference between the two versions is that the Unrated edition contains longer and more explicit sex scenes, while the R-Rated edition substitutes the deleted material with more comedy and plot development. This development was in response to changes in the marketplace; as regular Seduction Cinema director Terry West attests, ‘the executive producers were looking for a really meaty story and wanted something where you could cut the stronger sexual content out and still have a movie’.14
While this was primarily a business decision, this development towards a more prominent narrative also led to some rather significant creative choices. While the Unrated edit offers quite explicit scenes of lesbian sex, often bearing little or no relation to the plot of the film, the R-Rated edit focuses much more specifically on scenes which actually reflect the character development. This move towards a more integrated, ‘motivated’ form of pornography forms part of ei Independent Cinema’s desire to offer a more saleable product which can appeal beyond the traditional porn consumer and widen the available market. Nevertheless, a byproduct of this strategy is that the films themselves start to appear less and less like pornography.
Ultimately, this move reflects the underlying strategic motivation for ei Independent Cinema in which producing ‘erotic’ cinema was not an initial goal for the company but rather a means to an end. Again, as Raso explains, ‘I originally started my company to produce independent horror films. Seduction Cinema was an unintentional detour.’15 In recent years, therefore, production focus has shifted back to horror cinema with ei Independent Cinema (now titled POP Cinema) producing titles such as Shock-O-Rama (Brett Piper, 2005) and Skin Crawl (Justin Wingenfield, 2007) while star Misty Mundae has also attempted to capitalise on the popularity attained from her soft-core titles to move into more ‘legitimate’ projects (under her own name, Erin Brown) such as the horror comedy Shadow: Dead Riot (Erik Wan, 2006) with Tony Todd, and the Lucky McKee-directed Masters of Horror episode ‘Sick Girl’ (2006). While these respective moves into more mainstream productions have yet to pay off – with Seduction Cinema continuing to release ‘soft-core spoofs’ such as An Erotic Werewolf in London (William Hellfire, 2006) and Iron Babe (John Bacchus, 2008) – there has been a decisive shift of emphasis in which the soft-core spoofs are just one part of a much wider release slate.
CONCLUSION
In his book Brand Hollywood: Selling Entertainment in a Global Media Age, Paul Grainge has argued that:
The meaning of a brand is not simply determined by those who circulate and co-ordinate mass media representations but is also forged in cultural instances where texts, symbols and images are used by social agents, interpreted by audiences and taken up by fan groups in potentially unforeseen ways.16
This reflects the work of scholars like Rosemary Coombe and Henry Jenkins who have drawn attention to the ways in which audiences and consumers can appropriate and transform elements of the media landscape around them in unexpected ways. What I have shown, however, is that this process of negotiation with branded media is not something engaged in only by audiences and fans but rather is also a tactic used by other media companies intending to feed off the consumer interest surrounding these well-known franchises.
In this way, Seduction Cinema offers an instructive case-study of a group of independent filmmakers working in symbiosis with Hollywood. Unlike other micro-budget film companies such as Wicked Pixel or Sub Rosa Extreme which are often positioned in opposition to the Hollywood ‘mainstream’ within critical and analytical writings, ei Independent Cinema instead celebrate and feed off the popularity of franchise releases in order to draw attention to their own products. This fits within a long tradition in exploitation cinema in which appropriated plotpoints and iconography from Hollywood features can function as exploitable elements to sell low-budget features – from Roger Corman films like Piranha (Joe Dante, 1978) and Battle Beyond the Stars (Jimmy T. Murakami, 1980) through to the more recent feature output of companies like The Asylum such as Snakes on a Train (Peter Mervis, 2006) and Transmorphers (Leigh Scott, 2007).
The problem for these ‘soft-core spoofs’, however, is that the commercial tactic of imitative spoofing works in tension with the generic requirement for extended scenes of soft-core porn. It is the catch-22 of the soft-core spoof genre: you need the spoofing to distinguish your pornography in the marketplace, but you find that, within the film itself, the spoofing actually gets in the way of the pornography. Nevertheless, as Spiderbabe illustrates, you don’t need a credible script, three-dimensional characterisation, or convincing performances to get your low-budget film worldwide distribution. What you need are Spiderman costumes…
