Tag: late-night cinema

A standout erotic thrillers of the early ’90s, Sins of Desire (1993) delivers exactly what fans of the genre want: beautiful women, absurd science, and a plot full of sex, tapes, and betrayal. Some of the genre’s most beautiful women, along with Jan-Michael Vincent and Nick Cassavetes put this above many of its peers.

Confessions of a Lap Dancer (1997) promises an erotic thriller but delivers melodrama. Cal Bishop breaks down the crying, custody battles, and soft piano music. There are boobs, plenty, but they aren’t enough to save this movie that mistakes sadness for seduction.

Electra (1996) is one of those late-night cable oddities you’d spot at Blockbuster in the “Adults Only” or “Late Night Thrillers” section. Marketed with Shannon Tweed, leather, and the promise of erotic sci-fi action, complete with a serum that grants youth, health, and sexually transmitted superpowers. Electra stands as a strange, awesome, VHS relic of the 90s.

A silky murder mystery meets softcore nostalgia in Hollywood Madam (1994), featuring the incomparable Shannon Whirry. With a tangled web of lovers and blindfolds, this erotic thriller delivers classic late-night cable energy.

Call Girl (1995) is a stylish softcore drama that trades murder plots for artistic ambition and erotic self-discovery. The film stars Meilani Paul as a struggling photographer drawn into the upscale escort world.

One man wrote it, directed it, produced it, and starred in it. But Intimate Deception (1997) teases like a lingerie catalog and recites poetry like it’s foreplay. That’s too bad. Because Lisa Boyle is here. The nudity mostly isn’t.

Masseuse (1996) is a late-night erotic drama that surprises with an actual plot and a full cast of softcore icons like Griffin Drew, Monique Parent, Gail Thackray, and Amy Rochelle. Read about the women, the betrayals, and… more women.

Lisa Boyle stars in a film that gestures vaguely at having a plot, then shrugs and takes off its clothes. On the Edge (1994) is all soft focus and sex on every surface. If you’re here for narrative, look elsewhere. If you’re here for Lisa Boyle, welcome home.

Before porn was everywhere, it was impossible to find. From clunky BBS downloads to secret VHS tapes, this post traces how a generation of teens discovered desire in the analog era. Softcore wasn’t just titillating. It was a rite of passage.

A bored housewife. A mulleted artist. A fire escape. Carnal Crimes (1991) serves up late-night thrills with voyeurism, jazz sax, Julie Strain, and a whole lot of window-side masturbation. Not high art, but who cares? It’s high on skin.