“Porky’s” is an additional bawdy teen sex and food fight film. The entire genre seemed to be centered on the late 1950s and early 1960s when the directors were undoubtedly adolescents.
Teenagers of today truly identify with locker rooms, Trojans, boobs, jockstraps, killer-dyke gym teachers, and barfing jokes? Almost certainly, they do. Teenagers appear to be trapped in a time warp of unchanging preoccupations.
In the late 1950s, Pat Boone and beach party movies introduced Hollywood to this world with a certain degree of innocence.
That innocence has long since passed away. The A.C.N.E.S. film has become cynical after “American Graffiti,” “National Lampoon’s Animal House,” and “Meatballs.” Do you recall what the acronym A.C.N.E.S. stands for.
Any film featuring the dreaded Adolescent Character’s Neurotic Eroticism Syndrome has this term.
The male characters in “Porky’s” are neurotic around the standard three topics: size, experience, and the health of their reproductive organs. In contrast, the female characters are viewed almost exclusively as an undiscovered species from a vanished land.
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They are the subject of rumors, speculation, surveillance, victimization, and general fear. And Ms. Balbricker, the juggernaut gym coach, is not the only heavyweight. All of the female characters in this film are odd.
During sexual intimacy, one howls like a dog. Others entice eager young males without their knowledge into chambers with trapdoors and dump them in alligator-infested waters.
In reality, the most peculiar aspect of “Porky’s” is its hatred of women. The only intimate relationships in the film are between men. Even situations that are typical stereotypes for female characters are assigned to male characters in the film.
Such a film would be incomplete without a scene in which someone is caught naked in public, for instance. Remember the MASH episode “Hot Lips”? In “Porky’s,” the character’s name is Pee Wee.
He is caught with his pants down, pursued into the woods, apprehended by the police, and then dumped at the local drive-through hamburger service, where he poses as September Morning.
Because the movie has a bias against females, all of its sexual encounters generate anxiety and hatred, which precludes the audience from finding them humorous (sex scenes about fear and hostility, on the other hand, can be very funny). Even in a simple scene like the one in which the boys sneak a peek at the girls in the locker room, director Bob Clark completely botches it.
Scenes with Peeping Toms may be quite hilarious (remember when John Belushi was climbing the ladder in “Animal House?”). This is where it becomes smarmy. There is one more issue to consider.
This film features no male performers who, in appearance, voice, or behavior, could be mistaken for teenagers. They all look like overgrown preppies who are attending the five-year reunion of their fraternity pledge class.
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Embarrassment-based jokes are never funny unless the audience can empathize with the person or character being embarrassed. It seems as though every actor here is just performing.
It has come to the attention that I have failed to provide a synopsis of the story that is “Porky’s.” And I seriously doubt that I will. I don’t think I can muster the energy to write even one more sentence (which is, to be sure, all it would take).
According to Time Out
The American Graffiti concept is transferred to a secondary school in Florida during the 1950s by essayist and chief Clark, who then mounts a runaway farce that is fueled by the agonies of adolescent sexual desperation.
The subsequent boom in the American film industry made it the Animal House of 1982, and Clark brilliantly portrays a tone of masochistic misery throughout the picture as his rowdy children are scolded, taken advantage of, and generally humiliated by the adults around them.
There are a lot of sexual jokes, but the basic plot is just as innocently Oedipal as Jack the Giant Executioner.
The plot follows the gang as they try desperately to defeat club proprietors, parents, and police officers armed with shimmering truncheons as they continue looking for sexual experience. Jack the Giant Executioner is also an Oedipal story.
It is as regressive as a smash-and-grab raid, despite its meagerly liberal exterior; nonetheless, it is vulgar enough to be intriguing even when you despise it, and it is certainly the most illuminating American effort since Taps.
A movie that rejects intolerance and fanaticism and celebrates pleasantness, like in the case of Pee Small with his ultimate despoiling toward the back of school transport, is what you’ll find in Porky’s. This is a movie that doesn’t have a single mean bone in its body.
And for a generation for whom it was an essential movie rental — on the off chance that we could locate someone who looked 18 to obtain it for us – a portion of our hearts, and without a doubt, other critical organs, will forever belong to the testosterone-soaked hallways of Angel Beach High School.