Les Chic: Chic (pronounced "Sheik") wears lots of bad fashions, experiments with eyeliner and gets laid on a more or less constant basis over a two-day period...
    One of many XXX titles directed by Nick Philips, who later attempted a mainstream breakthrough of sorts with straight horror fare like Criminally Insane, Les Chic is a particularly good slice of erotica. Crafted with far more competence than his later horror pictures ever suggested, the film is admirably straightforward in its execution as it follows a San Francisco gigolo embarking on one sexual escapade after the other. Shot without sound, with mostly handheld cameras, it has a documentary flavor of sorts that is only undercut by the use of some silly voice-over narration.
    The cast, apparently comprised mostly of real-life (not to mention uncredited and unknown) San Francisco swingers as opposed to adult film stars, enters into the proceedings with admirable gusto. The protagonist, Chic, is described as a man of the 21st century — a man so far ahead of his time in his understanding of sexuality that he exists on a separate plane from the usual run of squares. The narration yields a few chuckles, but it's hard to tell whether this was the intention or if Philips was really trying to make some kind of point about the mores of bourgeois society.
    The first interlude is between Chic and gorgeous Rene Bond, in essence the only recognizable performer in the picture. Bond's natural looks are put on ample display, and she shows herself to be an enthusiastic exhibitionist. Viewers familiar with her softcore scenes in films like Fantasm are in for a real treat as she performs a killer blowjob, engages in some steamy 69 action and finally takes a messy shot of liquid Chic to the tonsils, all for the sake of art. The chemistry between the two performers is palpably intense, making for a legitimately erotic sequence — and who could fail to appreciate the narrator's sage commentary on Rene's semen gulping? ("Any square knows that a half a cup of cum has as much protein and calories as a glass of milk, two strips of bacon, one piece of toast, and a hard-boiled egg.") I mean, who says smut doesn't have the power to enlighten as well as entertain?
    The second interlude starts off as a lesbian tryst between Rene and a girlfriend, but Chic soon joins in the action. Donning enough eye makeup to make New York City hooker blush ("All the sexy guys should wear makeup," the narrator intones), Chic proves his manly prowess by satisfying both girls and leaving them hungry for more. The sequence also allows Chic to demonstrate the benefits of introducing pot-smoking to the lovemaking process. After all, according to the narration, in the 21st century all cigarettes will be laced with marijuana... something to look forward to for us smokers, perhaps.
    A brief interlude follows with Chic and Rene indulging in some phone sex, the focus being more on Rene pleasuring herself with a mean looking dildo than on Chic's limp attempt at getting himself off — one has to give the guy an A for effort, just the same; most of us would be dry as a bone by this point. Even so, Rene's choice of attire — a red thong — lends this piece of filler some visual panache. The fourth interlude allows Rene and Chic to put an artier spin on their relationship, as they paint each other with some hippy signs and slogans. The chemistry between the two is as strong as before, and while the scene isn't quite as potent as the opener, it's still a satisfying vignette that climaxes with Rene yet again taking the narrator's advice about the nutritional value of semen very much to heart.
    The last set-piece omits Rene, but a couple of attractive lesbians make for satisfactory substitutes. Chic begins by frolicking with the one girl in the shower, before proceeding to have a sexual marathon with both of them. The scene is interrupted, quite oddly, by a hysterical narrator (who sounds an awful lot like The Godfather's Alex Rocco) explaining that hoodlums have stolen part of the film, but luckily the girls are able to arouse a sleepy Chic (again made up with an excess supply of mascara and eyeliner) and continue the action into the next morning. Having satisfied both girls, Chic ends his saga by telling the viewer that he would like to take Rene and the two lesbians in a hot air balloon and fuck them in midair. Hey, buddy — stand in line...
    Silly as can be, Les Chic gets a lot of mileage out of its attractive cast. Philips stages the action with enthusiasm and mercifully doesn't allow the various interludes to get too repetitious or overly padded. At just an hour in length, the film doesn't have a chance to overstay its welcome and stands as one of the better films of its ilk.
    Les Chic 2: The King of Sex: It's 2002, and the seemingly ageless Chic (now played by Dean Paul) is still living like it's the 1970s — and it's no longer working to his advantage...
    Appropriately, the schism between '70s porn and contemporary porn is neatly illustrated by comparing Les Chic to its belated sequel. Shot on digital video, it offers lame attempts at humor, curious attempts at psychoanalyzing Chic's sexual hang-ups, and plenty of bad acting. As tedious as the original was enjoyable, it at least features a handful of attractive actresses with an exhibitionist streak.
    Dean Paul assumes the mantle of Chic, and he makes for a singularly annoying 'comic' presence, bouncing his head back and forth like he's trying out for a bit part in A Night at the Roxbury, and whining about how his sex life has gone appreciably downhill. The story, such as it is, is unduly cluttered and doesn't prove to be particularly compelling. In contrast to Philips almost cinema verité approach to the original, director William Hellfire tries to make more of a 'proper movie' and fails miserably.
    The film isn't a total wash, however. As mentioned above, the girls are attractive. Unusually for a contemporary skin flick, they are almost all natural in appearance, as well. Apart from one set of surgically enhanced breasts, and a few traces of our contemporary fascination with tattoos and piercing, the girls have something of a ’70s flavor to them. This is certainly true of Zoe Moonshine, one of the film's producers, who masturbates for Chic's pleasure in the film's first erotic vignette. Moonshine is a pretty, natural-looking brunette and she makes the scene come to life, even if the final reveal that it is yet another of Chic's "horrible" nightmares is groan-inducing.
    More satisfying, by far, is the next set-piece, which shows Moonshine getting it on with tattooed, but otherwise unaltered, Darian Caine. Caine virtually steals the film during this softcore segment — she embodies a kind of 'trashy' quality typical of contemporary adult film performers, but she's genuinely attractive and enthusiastic about her work. The scene ends limply, however, when Chic tries to join in and is rebuffed. Who can blame them? Next up is another dream sequence, in which a cute brunette (Juliette) masturbates yet again for an off-screen Chic. Juliette is an attractive performer, but the scene doesn't really go anywhere and Paul's mugging reaction shots wear thin very fast.
    Far better is the next dream sequence, in which Juliette has sex with a legitimately hot redhead with a noticeable boob job (not that I'm complaining, mind you). Juliette and buxom Alisha Angel set off a lot of sparks in this extended set piece, which culminates with Angel donning a blue strap-on and fucking Juliette from behind. The capper, in which Chic imagines himself being devoured by a giant vagina, is best forgotten.
    The film's last tryst begins with Angel masturbating with the aid of some tools, reaching an apparently genuine climax, before she invites Chic to join her for some high-heel knocking action. Angel puts her best foot forward, impressing during her solo, but the actual sex scene is softcore and limp in the extreme. The film ends with Chic getting run over by a car after reclaiming his mantle as the "King of Sex". Oh, brother...
    Were it not for the photogenic starlets, Les Chic 2 would be completely unbearable. As it is, it seems silly to waste one's time on it when Angel, for example, has apparently done a great many legitimately "hard" films beyond this one. They certainly couldn't be less dull. As it stands, the film is an unworthy sequel to Philips' original and is mostly disposable tripe.