Jul 11, 2015

Loverboy (2003)

While few people, especially the culture-distorting parasites that run the mainstream media and governments, are willing to recognize it in any meaningful way (after all, they are some of the foremost proponents of the dissolution of true white manhood), white Nordic Western European men have become so patently pathetic and emasculated that they allow hip-hop-loving and Muhammadan-idolizing illegal aliens from the third world to not only rape and sexually abuse, but also prostitute and enslave their underage daughters and sisters when they should be hanging these swarthy animals from lampposts in the streets. Notably, one of the main reasons the innately impotent Greater Manchester Police failed to swifty arrest and prosecute the inbred Paki pedophiles that were involved in the gang-raping, drugging, and sexual enslavement of poor white British teens during the so-called ‘Rochdale sex trafficking gang’ scandal despite knowing about it for years was because these cowardly cuckold cops were deathly afraid that they would be labeled “racist” if they brought these rat-like cousin-copulating thugs to justice. Of course, as the made-for-TV Dutch film Loverboy (2003) directed by Lodewijk Crijns (Lap rouge, Met grote blijdschap aka With Great Joy) and penned by arthouse screenwriter turned TV hack Jacqueline Epskamp (who most notably wrote the script for Drift (2001) aka Adrift directed by Michiel van Jaarsveld) demonstrates in a somewhat curious and almost shockingly sanitized way that totally downplays the severity of the situation, scheming Islamo-pimps that con white proletarian girls into becoming servile sex slaves are not just a menace to not-so-jolly England. Featuring decidedly debasing rap and histrionic R&B noise, mind numbingly vulgar MTV-esque pop kitsch aesthetics and editing, superlatively soulless soap opera style romance and melodrama, and an eclectic collection of miscegenation-celebrating lumpenproles from various (and oftentimes indiscernible) racial backgrounds, this conspicuously cheap and equally tasteless film is something I would typically not touch with a ten foot pole, but I appreciate much of director Crijns’ work and wanted to see how he would approach such a taboo multicultural issue. Indeed, in his innately iconoclastic debut feature Jezus is een Palestijn (1999) aka Jesus Is a Palestinian, Crijns made a marvelous mockery of spiritually retarded white xenophiles that become enslaved to trendy Asian religions, as well as other pathetic contemporary European trends like government-sanctioned euthanasia, neo-primitivism, and post-countercultural sexual degeneracy. Additionally, in his most commercially successful feature Alleen maar nette mensen (2012) aka Only Decent People, the auteur revealed the spectacular hypocrisy and closeted racism of Amsterdam’s Jewish liberal bourgeoisie community, as well as the social and sexual chaos of the Dutch city’s blossoming government-subsidized negro population. In Loverboy, Crijns demonstrates in a culturally cringe-inducing fashion how poor white girls that live in so-called ‘multicultural’ ghettos are very susceptible to the perniciously predatory tactics of maliciously misogynistic camel jockeys, who see European women as nothing more than cheap whores who deserve to be used and abused yet at the same time remind them of their own inferiority and racial schizophrenia (indeed, not unlike red-black-and-green ‘back to Africa’ negroes, these Arab untermenschen hate Europeans and European kultur and everything it stands for, yet cannot help but lust after blond women). 

 17-year-old blonde high school girl Denise (Monique van der Werff) is like a lot of poor white girls her age in that she is a fatherless bastard who lives in a virtually totally non-white ghetto in the South Holland capital city of the Hague where the only men are coffee-colored deadbeats and criminals and where many of the girls around her wear towels on their head because their Muslim men seem to have an irrational fear of women and sex. Not surprisingly, every single one of Denise’s friends is either a negro, Arab, or some sort of racially dubious ‘mystery meat,’ but like the protagonist, they are all are brainwashed by the whore pop (pseudo)culture that is propagated by the American Hebrew gatekeepers of Hollywood and MTV. Naturally, the group’s virtual theme song is “Bootylicious” by the yank jigaboo trio Destiny’s Child, though it seems Denise has a special affinity for blonde white sluts with assumedly crusty crotches like Madonna, Britney Spears, and vaguely busty pseudo-Latina Christina Aguilera. As demonstrated by the fact that she regularly stares at music videos featuring generically handsome pop singers embracing seemingly lecherous ladies like an erotically entranced automaton, Denise dreams of finding a tall, dark, and handsome mensch that will swing her off her feet and make her swoon with romantic joy of the rather raunchy negrified sort yet such ostensibly magical men only seem to exist in the fictional music video realm, but luckily fate has serious plans for the protagonist that involve the sort of man that seems like the kind of guy she has always dreamed of. Unbeknownst to Denise, a so-called ‘loverboy’—a superficially and psychopathically charming pimp that tricks unwitting teens into thinking that he is their boyfriend so as to groom them into becoming prostitutes—that looks somewhat like a backup dancer from some sort of deplorable mainstream music video has been fanatically stalking her and keeping track of her every move and he knows exactly what to say to her to lure her in and eventually make her his pussy-peddling infidel slave. 

 Like all loverboys, Michael (played by Dragan Bakema, who is actually of Serbian extraction) is an audaciously arrogant Muslim Arab of Moroccan extraction whose smooth charm betrays his superlatively swarthy appearance and scumbag hip-hop style. When Denise and her collection of multicultural friends get in trouble at a fancy department store for trying on various pieces of clothing that they have no real intention of buying, Michael magically saves the day by appearing out of nowhere, pretending to be the protagonist’s boyfriend by kissing her on the lips and calling her “honey,” and even buying her an expensive dress that she previously would have never dreamed of owning. Needless to say, Denise, who is obsessed with finding a romantic boyfriend that attends to her every need without even having to be asked, is immediately hooked and wastes no time calling Michael immediately after he gives her his phone number under the pretense of being able to reach him if she wants to return the dress that he has bought her. As Denise proudly tells her pregnant sister regarding Michael, “When I saw him, I knew everything would change.” Of course, everything will indeed change for the exceedingly naive protagonist, though she has no clue that it will involve routinely peddling her puss to effeminate middle-aged Arab businessmen and unkempt lowlife slobs that look like they crawled out of a sewer in New Delhi. As an ostensibly flashy dresser that drives a Mercedes Cabrio convertible and can easily gain her entry into fancy high-class parties and movie premieres that are attended by the sort of rich and famous white people that the decidedly dumb blonde would typically never dream of encounter in real-life, Michael initially seems like nothing short of a true dream lover to Denise. In fact, when Michael takes Denise on a romantic houseboat and she asks him, “Have you got anything? I don’t have any condoms,” he acts like quite the sensitive gentleman and pretends he is not just merely interested in her ass, less than sincerely replying, “Such a hurry. A present that’s wrapped so beautifully. I think I should leave it wrapped a bit longer.” Of course, by the next morning, Michael has pounded Denise’s pussy in the houseboat. Naturally, Michael’s next move after defiling her is to turn into a full blown pussy-peddler, but first he makes sure to give her the misleading gift of a cellphone with a new number so that he can always keep track of her. 

 Although he has only known her for a day or two, Michael begins immediately serenading Denise with bullshit lines like, “Nobody can love someone as much as I love you,” which the protagonist believes because she is brainwashed by the antics of pseudo-blonde whores like Madonna and thinks that merely fucking a man will cause him to fall in love with her.  After all, according to MTV and countless Hebraic specialists, love and sex are interchangeable, thus it is no surprise that Denise suffers from such a pathetic delusion, which is only transcended by her anti-reality belief that Arab men make great lovers and that interracial relationships have high success rates.  Ultimately, Michael uses the excuse that he owes 5,000 Euros to a friend and that he might have to leave the country if Denise does not help him by fucking his comrade. Indeed, apparently Michael’s towelhead homey Aziz (Walid Benmbarek) is willing to defer payment for three weeks if Denise allows herself to be debased by him. While Denise initially becomes angry with her loverboy’s extra dubious request, she gives in by the next day after Michael shows up to her school and surprises her with a tacky fake gold necklace that he probably stole from one of his street whores. When Denise arrives at Aziz’s apartment, he turns on ugly Arab noise and begins sweet talking her in Arabic. Notably, after Denise somewhat bitchily informs him that she does not speak Arabic, Aziz absurdly replies, “A shame, it’s the language of love” and then equally absurdly adds, “I respect you a lot.” To add insult to injury, Michael tells Denise he loves her even more than the day just after his best brown bud Aziz buggers her while she is washing the venomous Arab sex juices off her perennially defiled body. From there, Michael brings Denise to fancy movie premieres where she briefly gets to meet Dutch leading man Tygo Gernandt of Aryan Kaganof’s Naar de klote! (1996) aka Wasted! and Pieter Kuijpers’ Van God Los (2003) aka Godforsaken! and naturally the young white lumpenprole falls in love with the glamorous lifestyle, so she becomes less hesitant about selling her relatively fresh teenage gash for cash. Indeed, when Denise makes a couple hundred Euros from an Arab man by simply undressing him, she also falls in love with the easy money, but the glamour and, in turn, interracial pseudo-romance, does not last long when the reality of the rather unsavory situations finally becomes apparent to the protagonist. 

 Despite his fancy fast car and suave ‘thug chic’ clothing, Michael is a deadbeat bum that squats in a small dilapidated apartment in a dirty ghetto with his brother, though he promises Denise that he will soon buy her a lavish apartment in Amsterdam that they both will supposedly live in together. Meanwhile, Denise’s mother attempts to get her to move back home after discovering that her daughter is ‘dating’ a greasy smooth-talking Arab, but Denise hates having to babysit her retarded aunt and is jealous of her pregnant sister, so she would rather live the life of a hooker than return to her worrying family. While Denise initially offers her sensual services to high dollar johns, she soon becomes a low-level gutter streetwalker who learns the tricks of the trade from a negress named Naomi (Monita Mac Intosch). Of course, as a street hooker, Denise is involved in a number of degrading situations, including being buggered by a bearded middle-aged dirtbag in his car while the john’s large dog watches on from the backseat of the car. Meanwhile, in an absurdly improbable plot twist that demonstrates that both the director and screenwriter are fairly naïve when it comes to Arab sexual slave-drivers, psychopath Michael somehow genuinely falls in love with Denise and, to the chagrin of his all the more thuggish towelhead buddies, begins becoming fairly overprotective of her, especially when it comes to the kind of guys she sells her body to. Towards the end of the film, Michael’s pernicious pimp pal Lorenzo (Bulgarian-born actor Philip Rachid) even has to put a knife to his face after he dares to get in a heated argument with him over Denise’s safety. It is only when Michael’s scorned ex-prostitute/ex-slave (Tara Elders of Theo van Gogh’s 06/05 (2004) aka May 6th) randomly shows up out of the blue and completely exposes the Moroccan pimp for who he really is while Denise is selling her adolescent ass that the protagonist finally comes to fully realize that her shit-skinned beau tricked her into degenerating into a gutter gold-digger and that all of his romantic gestures were no more authentic as his supposed identity as a ‘Dutchman.’ After talking to Julia, Denise learns that Michael promised her all the same things as he did to her, including buying her an apartment in Amsterdam. In the end, Denise goes back to live with her family, but Michael will not let her forget him, as he has a friend slice open her face with a razor upon unexpectedly driving by her apartment complex shortly after she leaves him. While Denise is left with a large scar on her face that she will probably have for the rest of her life, at least she does not get acid thrown in her face like so many stupid white European girls that date Arabs and other swarthy untermenschen like naive Brit Katie Piper, who fell victim to a uniquely ugly ex-lover with a dubious racial background, only to get with another shit-skinned fellow and even eventually having a Café au lait colored mongrel baby with him not long after getting a series of reconstructive surgeries.  Of course, one can only assume the protagonist of Loverboy did not learn her lesson and will continue to date mongrel miscreants, but then again, no self-respecting white man would ever have any interest in her due to her less than respectable personal history.

 While Loverboy was somewhat popular in its native land of the Netherlands, it is very doubtful that the film will ever be elsewhere, as it unfortunately features tons of mainstream pop music and clips from music videos that would make the work impossible to release in other countries due to how expensive the music rights would be. Notably, the film features a decidedly aesthetically deplorable montage where the protagonist and her pimp are horsing around in a jacuzzi full of bubbles inter-spliced with scenes from the official music video directed by Swedish director-cum-drummer Jonas Åkerlund (Spun, Horsemen) for the 2000 Madonna song “Music.” Indubitably, despite its virtually unendurable audio-visual vulgarity, this seemingly retarded montage is fairly successful in articulating the sort of moral and psychological damage that is caused to a young girl who was weaned on a steady diet of MTV and kitschy mainstream pop music. Of course, the sad and pathetic reality of the protagonist’s life is in stark contrast to Madonna’s video, which depicts the guido whore as a sort of ‘queen of the night’ and opulent Dionysian diva that wildly parties with friends in a limousine, which is fittingly driven by kosher neo-vaudevillian comedian Sacha Baron Cohen while portraying his rather repugnant wigger rapper alter-ego, Ali G. Aside from the fact that the culture-distorting international tribe that Cohen belongs to is almost solely responsible for defecating out the sort of shockingly mediocre pop music and miscegenation-promoting anti-mores that the protagonist of Crijns’ film mindlessly adopts, the female lead of Loverboy more or less parrots everything that Madonna, who is arguably the most powerful and successful prostitute in all of human history, does in the music video, yet she ultimately leads a tragically debasing life of prostitution where her only reward is mindless hedonism. In a cleverly and darkly cynical way that brings new meaning to the putrid pop singer’s words, the protagonist and her pimp’s relationship is pretty much summed up in Madonna’s song where she almost sinisterly sings, “Music makes the people come together…Music mix the bourgeoisie and the rebel” (of course, the latter part of the lyrics should be changed to “Music mix the white woman and Arab pimp”). If anything, Crijns’ film downplays the loverboy phenomenon so as to presumably make it more accessible to brain dead teenage girls that want to see a love story and vicariously experience the deranged fantasy of being fucked by a primitive Arab thug. Perhaps most shockingly, Loverboy dares to make the brown slave master seem somewhat sympathetic by portraying him as a victim of his own backward culture and religion. While watching the film, I was certainly reminded of French Nouvelle Droite theorist Guillaume Faye’s remark in his book Sexe et Dévoiement (2011) aka Sex and Deviance, “Among certain Muslim men one notices a strange mixture of prudishness and sexual obsession which is typical of schizophrenic neurosis. This pathology is even more marked among them than among the Christian Puritans. Statistics on the ethnic origin of rapists and sex criminals in the broad sense would speak for themselves—if they were published honestly.” 

 Unfortunately, Loverboy does not dare to depict the more depraved behavior that these pseudo-macho savage pimps engage in like brutal gang rapes (though it is alluded to that Michael’s friends will “break in” the protagonist if he does not turn her into a whore fast enough), drugging (which includes getting girls hooked on heroin so that they become perennial slaves to their Muslim masters), and even murder, among countless other deplorable things that have absolutely no place in the Occidental world. As also mentioned in Faye's book, “Women […] are legally and socially more ill-treated today in North Africa and the Middle East than under European colonialism,” yet the medieval savagery of the Arab world is now being imported to Western Europe via the ‘soft genocide’ known as multiculturalism, which, as the steadily dying indigenous populations and insidiously expanding melanin-privileged populations, clearly demonstrates, can only end in racial and cultural chaos as most modern Western cities reveal. Of course, MTV and related Zionist propaganda entities will continue to plop out morally bankrupt xenophiliac vomit to guarantee that incoming generations of Europid youth will be too hopelessly jaded, debased, culturally and spiritually retarded, and illiterate to resist their globalist master plan. While important in the sense that it is one of only a handful of films that deals with the tragic and seemingly unfathomable multicultural plague of the sexual enslavement of teenage girls by Arab parasites, Loverboy ultimately reveals one of many very sickening side effects of a much more malefic problem that has to do with the intentional third worldization of Europa by anti-European globalists and their white traitor politician whores. In its somewhat cleverly ironical use of MTV aesthetics and spastic editing, Crijns' work is ultimately not too different from the prosaic pop (pseudo)culture dribble that it negatively portrays, thus its greatest strength is ultimately also its greatest weakness as a work that wallows in the same sort of reckless wantonness and vapid style(lessness) it unwaveringly mocks.  Of course, if Loverboy saved just one single white Dutch girl from falling prey to a misogynistic Moroccan parasite with a serious inferiority complex and racially schizophrenic mindset, it is already infinitely culturally more important than all of the Hollywood films released in 2003 combined, even if it is by no means a decent film.  After all, I doubt anyone could make any sort of legitimate argument that contemporary Hollywood has contributed anything of sincere value to the Occident.

-Ty E


Tony Brubaker said...

Hollywoods greatest contribution to the world, thats easy, she was born on December 27th 1975 and she was the most stunning little dream-come-true of all-time.

Anonymous said...

"Of course, MTV and related Zionist propaganda entities will continue to plop out morally bankrupt xenophiliac vomit to guarantee that incoming generations of Europid youth will be too hopelessly jaded, debased, culturally and spiritually retarded, and illiterate to resist their globalist master plan."

And what's worse is this: their plan is working. Western civilization is dying very slowly from stab wounds in its back -- and it's Western woman's fingerprints on the knife handle.