Its title encompassing several meanings and references, Nica Noelle's "Age of Innocence" for her Gay sex label Icon Male is another step forward in her artistic development, as the untutored male performers' acting chops continue to improve. No longer a stumbling block in watching these admittedly pornographic DVDs, the cast's creating viable characters now allows the viewer to identify and become invested in their story and problems, the goal Noelle has been seeking in her shift from the easy girl/girl and boy/girl Adult genres that launched her career.
Protagonist Bailey is played by young Troy Accola, who bears a striking resemblance to mainstream character actor Willem Dafoe, circa his early roles in his 20s in "The Loveless" or "Streets of Fire". I had seen Dafoe in a porn movie, with the great Euro star Horst Baron serving as his stunt cock, in the horrible von Trier junker "Antichrist" so it was interesting to see an Adult performer in his stead.
As told with his voiceover narration, Bailey is saddled with a drunken/drug addicted mom (never shown) to whom he feels compelled to care for, dropping out of school and giving her his paycheck regularly. In an exceptionally beautiful, wistful opening scene, shot on New England location at a lake, he's befriended by an older fellow David (played by the best actor in Nica's stable, Rodney Steele), out fishing.
They bond and form a platonic relationship, with Bailey staying overnight at David's home.
Sex rears its head involving a pair of boarders at David's house, one of whom Ron (familiar boy/boy and trans-female/boy actor Jaxton Wheeler) propositions David successfully in waiving their rent in favor of sex, after telling him an unconvincing sob story concerning the illness of his pal Tod's mother.
Ted turns out to be a principal character, bottom in his sex scene with Ron and then top when he seduces the innocent young hero Bailey. Of course, the show is structured to end up with Bailey and host David in the sack, but this commercially inevitable end point is reached with dramatic flourishes and panache by Nica.
It's a simple story, but the sort of romantic porn that typified the best of 1970s theatrical story telling in the Gay genre, certainly a lost art in the hard-edged 21st Century. Nica has established her niche, and I for one extol her accomplishments, perhaps best left under the radar of the industry's critics and "awards" bodies, who like Al Goldstein's old "Peter Meter" approach to Adult Cinema appraisal, have their sights strictly aimed at the groin rather than head or heart.
Protagonist Bailey is played by young Troy Accola, who bears a striking resemblance to mainstream character actor Willem Dafoe, circa his early roles in his 20s in "The Loveless" or "Streets of Fire". I had seen Dafoe in a porn movie, with the great Euro star Horst Baron serving as his stunt cock, in the horrible von Trier junker "Antichrist" so it was interesting to see an Adult performer in his stead.
As told with his voiceover narration, Bailey is saddled with a drunken/drug addicted mom (never shown) to whom he feels compelled to care for, dropping out of school and giving her his paycheck regularly. In an exceptionally beautiful, wistful opening scene, shot on New England location at a lake, he's befriended by an older fellow David (played by the best actor in Nica's stable, Rodney Steele), out fishing.
They bond and form a platonic relationship, with Bailey staying overnight at David's home.
Sex rears its head involving a pair of boarders at David's house, one of whom Ron (familiar boy/boy and trans-female/boy actor Jaxton Wheeler) propositions David successfully in waiving their rent in favor of sex, after telling him an unconvincing sob story concerning the illness of his pal Tod's mother.
Ted turns out to be a principal character, bottom in his sex scene with Ron and then top when he seduces the innocent young hero Bailey. Of course, the show is structured to end up with Bailey and host David in the sack, but this commercially inevitable end point is reached with dramatic flourishes and panache by Nica.
It's a simple story, but the sort of romantic porn that typified the best of 1970s theatrical story telling in the Gay genre, certainly a lost art in the hard-edged 21st Century. Nica has established her niche, and I for one extol her accomplishments, perhaps best left under the radar of the industry's critics and "awards" bodies, who like Al Goldstein's old "Peter Meter" approach to Adult Cinema appraisal, have their sights strictly aimed at the groin rather than head or heart.