It has been my experience that most left-handed people are wacked-out in some striking way or another. In fact, my most criminally-inclined and psychopathic friend growing up was left-handed and when not breaking said left hand/wrist doing a number of idiotically dangerous things, he was certainly used it to thieve or to smoke a joint laced with coke or whatever drug of choice he was using at that time. Naturally, I would expect a gay hardcore porn flick entitled Left-Handed (1972) to be riddled with unsavory left-handed degenerates doing unsavory things and avant-garde pornographer Jack Deveau’s film certainly does not disappoint in that regard as a work of completely callous cocksucking cynicism that does not celebrate gay liberation and related counter-culture crap, but is instead a wonderfully wicked work that portrays the left-handed sodomite lead as predatory and pernicious psychopath who gets off to destroying normal heterosexual relationships, as well as loses interest and drops ‘lovers’ once they fall in love with him and he has fully debased to a most irreparable degree. The feature-length debut of architectural and graphic designer turned fag filmmaker/producer Jack Deveau (Drive, A Night at the Adonis), Left-Handed is far from the positive poof ‘crossover’ pictures of Wakefield Poole (Boys in the Sand, Bijou) and the sodomite S&M-celebrating of Fred Halsted (LA Plays Itself, Sextool), as a work about a long-haired trio of moral and sexual degenerates, including a hustler, antique dealer, and pot dealer, who live for sex, drugs, and rock n roll and ultimately pay the price for such hedonistic idiocy. Essentially the story of a gay hustler who conspires to turn an ostensibly heterosexual drug dealer with a girlfriend into a passive fag bottom, only to leave him in heartbreak in the end, Left-Handed is lecherous hardcore homo porn at its most misanthropically melodramatic and nastily nihilistic as the sort of work that, not unlike William Friedkin's Cruising (1980), would have been labeled ‘homophobic’ by hysterical homo do-gooders had it been directed by a heterosexual man. A dark and bitter tale of aberrant mis-romance with hardcore homo action thrown in between, Left-Hand is the film that announced Jack Deveau arrived and that Halsted was not American's only artsy fartsy S&M auteur pornographer.
After converting Bob to play on the pink team, Ray decides to stalk the dope dealer, who lives with his girlfriend, at his quaint farmhouse. With his girlfriend viewing voyeuristically from a window, Bob allows Ray to blow him in a barn and the two continue to fuck furiously around the rural homestead. When big gay Ray leaves, Bob comes to the startling realization that he loves the homo hustler more than his girlfriend, so he drops her and his heterosexuality like a bad habit to begin his new life as a rare masculine rural queer. Naturally, Ray moves into Bob’s country home and the two engage in incessant aberrosexual activity that becomes more and more depraved as the days pass. Eventually, born bottom Ray deflowers Bob’s bi-curious bunghole, thus leading to the beginning of the end of their raunchy ‘romantic’ relationship, as the streetwalking sod is mainly attracted to the redneck dope dealer's innocence, which he has enthusiastically destroyed like the immune system of AIDS-addled crackbaby. Meanwhile, prissy antique pusher Larry becomes jealous like a frigid queen upon learning of Bob and Ray’s relationship, so he creates a sadistic plan to setup a five-man fag orgy at his apartment where he hopes the dope dealer will walk in on his hustler boy toy getting gangbanged by a brigade of rough and tough buggering boys. Of course, Ray goes to the party and in gives into his hyper hedonistic hustler tendencies, and just as lecherous lunatic Larry planned, Bob walks in on his beloved butt-boy being carnally manhandled by a number of anonymous unclad men. In fact, Ray becomes so erotically enamored with the five-cock orgy that he proudly takes some random dude’s fist and half of his arm up his ass like a true bitch with a sinister itch for morbid masochism. Of course, Bob finally comes to his senses and realizes that Ray was only capable of offering him a ‘left-handed’ romance, thus concluding Left-Handed on a rather depressingly note that is bound to spoil any poof pervert's masturbatory climax.