Beach House Diaries

a review by Onan the Vulgarian
Best of Phoenix Alternative Video Reviewer

	Cast: Brad Benton, Cole Ryan, Tory Mason, Romario, Brant Moore, Barrett Long, Jesse Santana, Christian Owen, John Wright, Luca Alexander. Directed by Jim Steel for Men of Odyssey.
	Wholesale inquiries, Paladin. Online orders www.phoenixreleasing.com.

From 1994 to 2002, Men of Odyssey produced some of the most polished porn being released. The studio featured the work of top directors — Thor Stephans, Jerry Douglas, Lucas Kazan, Joe Gage, Wash West, Chi Chi LaRue and others — and the biggest stars of the day.
    The good news is that, after a five-year hiatus, Men of Odyssey has thrown its hat back into the porn production ring. The less-good news is that its return vehicle, Beach House Diaries, doesn't break any new ground and contains one great big "what the heck was that?"
    Jim Steel, who directed many hot titles for Men of Odyssey in the past (garnering numerous Hard Choice Awards for Carnal Intentions, Double Cross, The Joint and Mass Appeal), directed Beach House Diaries, and his vision seems to be stuck in a box.
    In the past year, Steel has directed several films that have little or no dialog and whose narrative drift is more-or-less related to a theme suggested by the title. The first of these, The Devil Inside, introduced the concept, building a series of volcanic sex scenes around what appeared to be a couple's deteriorating relationship. After that, Steel reinvented the wheel with Teacher's Pet, My First Time, On the Downlow and Hard Up, except that the camera work became progressively more prosaic while the sex cooled down.
    Beach House Diaries continues the trend, with five scenes set in a very fancy house on the beach that is shared by lots of hunky and horny guys. Brad Benton and Cole Ryan have the most fully-developed relationship, as we see them walking along the shore, greeting other house guests and making small talk as well as fucking each other's brains out. Benton's signature honking assures us he's having a good time.
    Muscle-hunk Romario propositions Brant Moore at the pool, and Brant brings his boyfriend, Tory Mason, along for the tryst. Romario's objective is to be serviced, and he's conventionally hot enough that Brent and Tory are more than willing to suck his cock, making a fun afternoon out of getting a joint sexual kick by doing this straight guy. Every time the camera catches a shot of Mason's tan-lined buns, the screen practically lights up; he's got one of the best butts in the business these days. Tory is also the versatile one of the bunch. Tory eats Brant's ass while getting fucked by Romario, then Tory fucks Brant, who takes Romario's enormous load in the face.
    Romario changes to a fresh swimsuit and poses on the circular staircase for cute Luca Alexander, who gets to suck his cock after photographing him. They do this for about two minutes, then the scene changes to someplace else, where Romario fucks Luca in the doggy position for 32 seconds. The camera pans up to Romario's face, and we never see Luca again; instead, we see Romario, bathed in urine-yellow light, jerking off at the foot of the staircase. This is the "what the heck was that?" moment I mentioned earlier.
    After Romario's solo, we jump to mega-schlonged Barrett Long playing periscope with his hardon in the hot tub. Jesse Santana is staring out the window, unable to believe his eyes — until Barrett comes into his room to give him a closer view. Santana valiantly attempts to swallow the whole thing, and he does a damned good job, before putting his buns at Barrett's disposal for an excoriating two-position fuck. Long's ejaculation looks like it's shot from a high-velocity machine water gun, hitting Jesse sharply in the chin, mouth, eyes and up his nostrils.
    Christian Owen and John Wright bring the day to a close in front of the fireplace at night. Owen could give Mason a run for the money in the "hot buns" department, a fact that's not lost on Wright. While Owen bobs deeply on Wright's cock with his prehensile lips, Wright kneads Owen's buns and eats and fingers his hole, which in turn initiates a sucking response in Owen's butt. The foreplay here is better than the fucking, which ends with two wet cum shots and a kiss.
    In the final analysis, Beach House Diaries ends up being less than the sum of its parts. Steel's fondness for thematically-related sex scenes with no dialog or story thread is like having an itch you can't scratch. Either give us a story, characters and dialog or don't, but don't expect the viewer to provide the continuity that the title and a line of dialog here and there suggests exists. The chapter entry points skip over these hints of a story line, so maybe the editing should have followed suit. The bonus here is the butt parade: not only the aforementioned buns of Christian Owen and Tory Mason, but those of Luca Alexander, Jesse Santana and Cole Ryan, too.
    The DVD has trailers, photo gallery, phone sex ads. Letterboxed.

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