Clearly hiding the venerable Tom DeSimone given it bears the exact same credits as GAY GUIDE TO CRUISING, "Tom Mosca's" CONFESSIONS OF AN INMATE again delivers a solid gay hardcore outing from the early days of the genre.
Opening is strongly reminiscent of CONFESSIONS OF A MALE GROUPIE (another DeSimone tip-off - he's credited by name there), with sync-sound, direct-to-camera address again confined to a single, static camera set-up. The results are a bit more elaborate here, as protagonist George Peters interrupts throughout to narrate this minimalist tale of gay love in the clink, but the cost-saving result is the same.
The unnamed protagonist never reveals what he and his cellmate, Phil ("Paul Lee," supposedly hetero performer Billy Lane - though if true, this is his only known gay performance), are in for, which certainly makes it easier to focus on the romantic aspects of their relationship. Joining Phil in his cell, the narrator is initially wary, but it's not long before the two start cruising each other by stripping naked and working out in full view. Very soon, the two are keeping each other company on those cold, lonely prison nights.
All seems well until midway through the film, when a third cellmate, Lee (Vince Bruno), arrives and begins diverting Phil's affections. With the narrator disconsolate at Phil's betrayal, he contemplates suicide, though hope may be on the horizon if the three can come to an agreement...
The opening half of INMATE is a minor masterpiece of mood, starting with the wonderful, extended build-up as the two cellmates tease each other by flaunting their bodies with increasing abandon. The film does likewise, easing into its explicit nature slowly, building from the kind of "dangly" beefcake Pat Rocco perfected in the '60s to increasingly explicit images of erection and masturbation. When the film finally crosses into hardcore, it again moves slowly, progressing from fondling to barely-glimpsed blowjobs and only at long last moving to anal (in a scene that could charitably termed "noirish") around 20-30 minutes in. To modern audiences used to immediate nonstop pounding, this will simply equate to bad sex, but for those who can take it slow and enjoy the tease, it's more a cerebral turn-on than a physical one - and quite good for what it is.
Unfortunately, this rising tension deflates once it's revealed the narrative has little sting in its tail. At the risk of spoiling things, the film effectively goes nowhere - the "plot" can be boiled down to: two guys fall in love, another shows up and makes one jealous, then they all learn to share. Not much to write home about, despite the film's visual-epistolary wrap-around. But, despite its shrug of a non-conflict, INMATE is still laudable for taking on the subject of situational homosexuality in prison - a stereotype still often confined to crude jokes in pop culture but treated with a surprising degree of dignity here. If it seems ironic that a so-called "adult" film may actually be more mature than its mainstream peers, that's a testament to the unique space early gay sex films afforded their creators to speak to a rare sympathetic audience. If the narrative seems slapdash, that was surely a constraint of this early, outlaw mode of production. DeSimone would tackle a similar love-triangle with even better results in the sublime DUST UNTO DUST, but already acquits himself well here. Either - or both - are recommended for viewers seeking better examples of early gay hardcore.
Opening is strongly reminiscent of CONFESSIONS OF A MALE GROUPIE (another DeSimone tip-off - he's credited by name there), with sync-sound, direct-to-camera address again confined to a single, static camera set-up. The results are a bit more elaborate here, as protagonist George Peters interrupts throughout to narrate this minimalist tale of gay love in the clink, but the cost-saving result is the same.
The unnamed protagonist never reveals what he and his cellmate, Phil ("Paul Lee," supposedly hetero performer Billy Lane - though if true, this is his only known gay performance), are in for, which certainly makes it easier to focus on the romantic aspects of their relationship. Joining Phil in his cell, the narrator is initially wary, but it's not long before the two start cruising each other by stripping naked and working out in full view. Very soon, the two are keeping each other company on those cold, lonely prison nights.
All seems well until midway through the film, when a third cellmate, Lee (Vince Bruno), arrives and begins diverting Phil's affections. With the narrator disconsolate at Phil's betrayal, he contemplates suicide, though hope may be on the horizon if the three can come to an agreement...
The opening half of INMATE is a minor masterpiece of mood, starting with the wonderful, extended build-up as the two cellmates tease each other by flaunting their bodies with increasing abandon. The film does likewise, easing into its explicit nature slowly, building from the kind of "dangly" beefcake Pat Rocco perfected in the '60s to increasingly explicit images of erection and masturbation. When the film finally crosses into hardcore, it again moves slowly, progressing from fondling to barely-glimpsed blowjobs and only at long last moving to anal (in a scene that could charitably termed "noirish") around 20-30 minutes in. To modern audiences used to immediate nonstop pounding, this will simply equate to bad sex, but for those who can take it slow and enjoy the tease, it's more a cerebral turn-on than a physical one - and quite good for what it is.
Unfortunately, this rising tension deflates once it's revealed the narrative has little sting in its tail. At the risk of spoiling things, the film effectively goes nowhere - the "plot" can be boiled down to: two guys fall in love, another shows up and makes one jealous, then they all learn to share. Not much to write home about, despite the film's visual-epistolary wrap-around. But, despite its shrug of a non-conflict, INMATE is still laudable for taking on the subject of situational homosexuality in prison - a stereotype still often confined to crude jokes in pop culture but treated with a surprising degree of dignity here. If it seems ironic that a so-called "adult" film may actually be more mature than its mainstream peers, that's a testament to the unique space early gay sex films afforded their creators to speak to a rare sympathetic audience. If the narrative seems slapdash, that was surely a constraint of this early, outlaw mode of production. DeSimone would tackle a similar love-triangle with even better results in the sublime DUST UNTO DUST, but already acquits himself well here. Either - or both - are recommended for viewers seeking better examples of early gay hardcore.