Psycho Sex Dolls

Painstakingly pieced together by indie filmmaker and YouTuber/podcaster David Wilde, this is a full-on assault to the senses and, in today's world of political correctness, a brave and ambitious undertaking derived from crowdfunding and pure determination. The acting is pretty good throughout and the story deftly edited by Wilde into a maelstrom of semi-comedic and outrageous scenarios. The pace is relentless and frenetic, flying from one bonkers set up to the next, scenes laced with sexual and futuristic AI themes - at times you'll ponder whether you're watching comedy, horror, sci-fi, or porn! Not for the prudish, Psycho Sex Dolls is a lot of fun and well worth checking out.

A porno filmmaker whose business is crumbling due to industry disruption and his failure to pay his performers gets his hands on some state-of-the-art sex dolls, with dire consequences.

Writer-Producer-Director David Wilde's Psycho Sex Dolls is a bold and imaginative film that captures the spirit of decades of exploitation cinema, especially the 70s and 80s. With his unique blend of storytelling and homage to seedy classic Euro movies and horror, Wilde delivers exactly what is promised: a wild ride filled with T & A, dark humour, and sharp commentary on A. I. and the adult film industry.

The film follows Damien Self, played wonderfully by Simon Weir. Weir's performance as Self is nothing short of stellar (no pun intended), portraying a man clinging to his glory days with sheer desperation. His acting anchors the film, making Self's downward spiral both compelling and tragically humorous.

Perfectly cast, Stellar Paris shines in a dual role, capturing the essence of the adult industry with a performance that balances the control and disdain of the profession with moments of reward and joy. Her portrayal of a robot character eerily embodies both the dark and light sides of the work, adding layers to the film's exploration of its humanity and A. I. themes, all amidst girl-on-girl kisses that echo 90s soft-core DTV thrillers and robot POV shots reminiscent of The Terminator and Westworld.

The supporting cast does a great job of bringing their characters to life. Kieran Chalker offers weight as James Steel, leaving an impression, while the female cast members, notably Jamie Jones and Emma Cole, deliver memorable maniacal performances.

With mature content, foul language from the outset, blood, knives, bats, and guns, Wilde pulls no punches, especially in the third act. The limited budget occasionally shows, but Wilde makes up for it with snappy dialogue, clever use of location space, and imaginative films-within-films, along with Stepford Wives vibes. The film's bright colour timing matches the characters and costumes, adding a layer of vibrancy that contrasts sharply with its darker themes, creating a visually striking, snappy ride.

Overall, Wilde's visuals evoke the era of declining VHS rentals, the fall of analog, and the rise of digital and DVD. With nods to classics like A Clockwork Orange, Hammer Horror films, and Kill Bill to name a few, Psycho Sex Dolls is a creative, trashy (in the best sense), and nostalgic tribute to the films that inspired it, while standing on its own as a new chapter in modern exploitation.

One for fans of cheerfully rude British cinema.... we're talking Sex Lives of the Potato Men level here...as washed up, coke snorting adult video director Damien Self (Simon Weir) and his even more obnoxious producer James Steel (Kieran Chalker) attempt to turn around the fortune of their failing porno operation by replacing flesh and blood porn stars with three sex robots. Only for the sexbots to start thinking for themselves and turn against their chauvinistic owners. Smutty, bloke humour is the order of the day here, but it also rubs shoulders with flashes of surprisingly satirical commentary on A. I., the metoo movement and female body image. The film hides it well, but there is a brain here. Making this, in it's smarter moments, a micro-budgeted Brit variation on The Substance, albeit had that film made the Dennis Quaid character the centre of attention. It's similarly visually hyperactive and in your face, with the downfall of it's train wreck of a protagonist being played out within a confined, claustrophobic setting. The film's concerns about A. I.'s potential dominance of the movie industry- the sexbots quickly master film editing and scriptwriting- and identity thief -Damien models one of the sexbots on his porn star ex-girlfriend- feel particularly topical. Damien's realisation that in terms of being stripped of his long ago artistic integrity and being answerable to unscrupulous masters, he's every bit a machine as the sexbots, leads to a surprisingly redemptive coda. My only gripe with the film is the CGI bloodshed, I just don't think the technology is quite there yet to accurately replicate flowing liquid, resulting in spurting blood having an awkward animated look. Low budget filmmaking's current favouring of this seems doubly baffling given that a bottle of old fashioned stage blood isn't exactly the price of caviar these days. Still as this is hardly a gorefest, the violence in the film being limited to only a few brief seconds, this is only a slight irritation, and these sexy but deadly dolls are well worth a look. The amount of female nudity in the film indicating that along with recent efforts like Graphic Designs, Dirty Work and Darker Shades of Summer, low-budget British filmmaking has got it's sexploitation groove back. Elsewhere Kieran Chalker brings some sweary, geezer gangster energy to Psycho Sex Dolls, as you might expect from someone who has been in a few Rise of the Footsoldier movies, and Simon Weir gives a debauched tour-de-force as a character who seems to be equal parts Ben Dover and Charlie Endell (esquire). As far as recent movies about sexbots go, Psycho Sex Dolls is more ambitious than Gerard Daly's V1200 (2019) and sexier than Louisa Warren's Cyberbride (2019). On a personal note, I was somewhat amused that Damien Self opted to give one of the sexbots a Manchester accent, as a Mancunian I'd never considered our accent to be particularly sexy, we should be flattered... I guess.