On Seeing Let Me Die A Woman
Sleazoid Express/Metasex Editor - Publisher
Co-author of “Sleazoid Express: A Mind Twisting Tour Through the Grindhouses of Times Square”
I don’t like Doris Wishman. I don’t like that she doesn’t take responsibility for being a pornographer. For some societally twisted reason she demands you take her as a sweet innocent woman. She plays the Leni Riefenstahl card. She sets up the porn shoot and gets the actors in place and as the actual balling is taking place she leaves the room. Phornographer intteruptus. As if sex is beneath her and the actors are freaks or lowlifes too disgusting for her to bear witness to. She can give the orders but cannot take the responsibility of what she’s done. She’s like “Me? A Pornographer? How distasteful. NO Way! I’m a nice old lady. ” Bullshit. And she’s as crude as the rest of the hardcore makers who fuck over actors on pay by clipping scenes from other films they were paid minimally for and just using their performances unpaid in further films like the actors are nothing more than paper dolls. Harry Reems and Vanessa Del Rio weren’t paid to be in Let Me Die A Woman. Their performances are cut from one of Doris’ porn films and pasted in. Harry, in particular, wouldn’t have wanted to appear in such a homosexually driven movie. That was never his style. Vanessa would have demanded payment. Doris is as sleazy and unethical as any other low-end cheapskate hardcore pornographer.
The doctor in the film is repulsive. A side shot of him looks like it was lifted from the Nazi propaganda film The Eternal Jew. The Dr. also has something to do with religion, as is oft the case with physicians involved with trannies. They have a “creator” delusion. I disagree with the term transsexual unless it’s used to describe someone who’s had the full operation. The pre-ops walk into meetings where the doctor tells them “You look beautiful today!” They don’t! They look like any other homely as shit mess Times Square pre-op, homicidal and ready to take out a switchblade to off themselves or someone else. The good Dr. tells pre-ops – people who merely have had the tit injections – that they’re woman, and that’s a boldfaced lie. They’re men who have merely got some hormones and breast enlargement injections. That does not make them women. It makes them delusional and miserable tied to a freak enabler svengali. It makes them hopeful for a future that will never manifest hand held by a quack with a creator complex who’s as disturbed as they are.
Let Me Die A Woman is all about homosexual self-hatred. The pre- and post- ops won’t accept the truth of their own homosexuality. When they do have sex, they go with men who like anal sex, so it’s all about pain. These delusionals still sport cocks. No matter how small and useless and pathetic they are they represent their masculinity. And denying they exist is just insane. I think this “Dr.” should have his license taken away.
The doctor keeps his charges bombed on different pharmaceutical cocktails so they’re as docile as cult members. “Yes doctor, I am beautiful,” they chant back at him in their group support meeting as if in a dominance session. The people in this meeting are as ugly and disturbed looking as a psyche ward. The Dr. proudly demonstrates his technique of injection, which involves a hard slap at the moment of needle insertion. – a completely unnecessary move with an intramuscularly given injection.
A Latino post op that explains his life is the main interview subject. He reveals that he was never able to admit being a homosexual. He’s not trapped in the body of female – he simply can’t deal with being a homosexual man. And the physical pain of a sex change – which he described as excruciating- is better than the pain of homosexuality. His interviews are framed in an ugly dark blue room that displays Doris’ visual aesthetic. The man passes easily for a mamasita flagrantly sporting braless big jugs for Doris’ peeping eye camera. He admits that sex is less than thrilling. He says he’s read of multiple orgasms and he’s lucky if within a relationship he has any at all.
Another post op tells about his little girl being so understanding about his condition. Then after this emotional stripping he is made to disrobe and insert a metal dildo into his new vagina….just to show us it works like a real one. Classy..no? I’m sure his daughter will understand that display as well. Hell, kids are resilient. And what a proper place to discuss her in a Times Square exploitation flick just before doing a vagina insertion trick. The Dr. beams at his freak creation.
No mistake that Doris would gravitate towards this subject matter. It’s all about denial…. Secrecy. Hell, she’s a pornographer who left the room for the sex scenes. And she makes sure we know the exact supposed count of her lovers as to bizarrely prove she is no loose woman. As a woman she is a discredit to her gender. The whole fetish factor of Let Me Die A Woman is that a female made it instead of a man. When I first met Mr. Sleazoid and asked him who controlled Times Square’s adult theaters, I was blown away to learn that lesbians ran the whole show, from the all-male houses to the live show showplaces. Anyone ever wonder about Doris’ covert sexual tendencies? If she were a lesbian we would all be the very last to know.
As the study on female bullies Odd Girl Out points out, society doesn’t expect such hostility and exploitativness from females. The hidden and unexpected female hostility described so well in that key psychiatric book is demonstrated by Doris’ cinematic approach in Let Me Die A Woman.
Wait for the feeble, ass backward Hollywood version of Doris’ life, ala Ed Wood. It’s the type of material that major studios eat up for breakfast. See Doris as a happy go lucky housewife who makes kooky movies and her venal, thieving distributor, Jerry Balsam, turned into nothing more than an innocuous William Castle style cigar chomper. See the porno actors she got over on turned into harmless flits.