XXX (2002)
Main cast: Vin Diesel (Xander Cage), Samuel L Jackson (NSA Agent Gibbons), Asia Argento (Yelena), and Marton Csokas (Yorgi)
Director: Rob Cohen


"Tell me this is not a gay porno movie," my friend Melissa tells us girls as me and Hildy drag her into Hildy's living room. It's us Girls' Afternoon Out - thanks to the friendly pirated VCD dealer in Chinatown, we got to watch this movie a week earlier than the Singaporean release date. "Vin Diesel - is he a porn star?"

"Whether it's gay porn or a legitimate movie, who cares?" Hildy declares. That's why she and I are good friends, by the way, we like how each other think. "It's Vin Diesel, man. Vin Diesel - man, just his name is enough to get me salivating."

After this movie, Melissa is a new woman. "Vin Diesel!" she sighs as she fans herself.

We replay that scene where he takes off his tight tank top, and we need more ice in our orange juice.

XXX is just what it seems to be in the trailer - an unabashedly high-special effects bombs-guns-and-babes dick flick that wears it B Grade label proudly on its sleeve. But the special thing that is this movie is that while it is as testosterone-pumped as a dick flick can be, it is also shamelessly gay. This is one movie where a die-hard jock and a nelly can sit at the same table and dissect this movie like the best of friends. For every time Vin Diesel's character Xander "Triple X" Cage flexes his biceps, there are also scenes of him wearing a fur coat over his gym-pumped top-in-gay-porn body like the biggest queen in San Francisco or he staring at three huge phallic missiles rising over him as if he is about to... you know.

Triple X is a champ in extreme sports. Skateboarding, fast cars, whatever - you name it, he's done it all. One day, in a sequence of cars flying over roofs and bikes crashing down twenty feet into the rapids below (or is it the other way around), he somehow gets coerced by Agent Gibbons into going undercover. He has to play along with bad weapons dealer Yorgi and the mysterious moll Yelena.

This "plot" is nothing more than an excuse for Vin Diesel to plunge over rapids, climb onto trains, hanging for dear life, or single-handedly saving the world from Evil Biological Weapons all the while flexing those Arms That Flattened The World and thrusting That Package Of All Packages onto the screen like a well-trained gay for pay virtuoso.

Ohhhh... doesn't cover it, trust me, or at least where us gals are concerned. Who cares about beefcakes when we have Vin Diesel, the Penis of Power? He is truly the new He-Man, and when he raises his powerful claymore in a triumphant cry, "By the power of Groinskull, I am He-Man!", us ladies give a collective swoon and lust-bathed sigh. It doesn't help, of course, with his beefy physique and that suggestively-shiny and domed chromedome head that the naughty thoughts just won't go away. Like Melissa says, neck up he isn't much to look at, but boy, that body, that body! That guy can't act, he can't emote, but that's his animal magnestism: he's the dumb sextoy every woman could use in her life. "Here, Penis Diesel, sit!" Arf. "Wag your tail." Arf! Arf! "Roll over, good boy." Arf! Arf! Arf!

The movie really drags towards the late half-hour, as the chases become interminable, but who cares? With the Penis here wearing those tight tank tops and flexing those powerful stomper arms, he makes XXX one of the best softporn to grace the theatre. Silly guys will tell you it's all about the non-stop missiles and the alluring Asia Argento, but it's really all about the meat icicle of power that is Vin Diesel.

"It's over?" Melissa wails when, well, it's over. "He doesn't get naked! Life is so unfair!"

Then I emailed her that picture of a showering Vin Diesel, and she's feeling all's well with the world again. XXX is just another crowning ring along the mighty tumescence that is Penis Glory's testosterone flick career. This movie is all cheese and it's so bad, there's no way it can be anything but good.

Rating: 62


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