Sons & Lovers

SKINOPSIS

We've never been keen on British cuisine. Nor have we ever felt a particular proclivity towards cannibalism, but something about Esther Hall makes us want to pounce on her fiercely and start to tear at her flesh with our (in our minds) newly grown claws. We would then proceed to sink our teeth into her small but perfect breasts. They call to us and have haunted our dreams ever since we got such ample exposure to them in this overlong, talky British melodrama. See, she's not exactly flat-chested. They come out subtly but definitively. We rewound over and over wondering whether we could literally bite them off and swallow them after chewing them for a while. Something about her pale British flesh and her frequently exposed perfect ass simply will not leave that space in our brain where all of our appetites commingle. Her rack covered by hay, posing to be painted and ground back into her chest while she gets fucked by the drippy "son" of the title; all of these are slowly driving us to madness.

It doesn't help that drippy son's girfriend number two (Lyndsey Marshal) has the same dark hair and sad eyes and little nipples shown off perfectly. We usually hate British crap like this (and frankly when these future victims of cannibalism aren't onscreen, we hated this as well), but we can't get this instant skin classic out of our head or our DVD player.