to operate a business for purposes of providing the opportunity to engage in, or the opportunity to view, live sex acts," because, according to the elected officials, "the operation of a sex club contributes to the spread of sexually transmitted diseases and is detrimental to the health, safety and morals of the inhabitants of the city of Phoenix." Led by Mayor Skip Rimsza, the council passed new laws to restrict the operations of strip clubs and made it illegal ". That vote was part of a controversial crackdown on sexually oriented businesses. Open 24 hours a day, seven days a week, the Chute is hidden in plain sight, an unmarked, well-kept building on a major Phoenix thoroughfare.īy contrast, the Valley's five "swingers" clubs, which catered primarily to heterosexual couples, were located in remote industrial areas before the Phoenix City Council unanimously passed a law outlawing "Adult Sex Clubs" in December 1998. I brush past them and re-enter the maze, where dozens of men silently walk the halls, sliding glances my way, through air that smells of bleach. Nude men trail me, waiting, it seems, for a signal. These rooms are empty when I go in, but I'm not alone for long. Inside these public rooms are sticky floors, couches, and wall-mounted video screens showing gay pornography (and, in one curious divergence, a rerun of Channel 12 news). Last call for Locker 41."īesides the gym, there are four public rooms inside the Chute, each located behind batwing doors or straps of leather hanging down like the entry to a meat freezer.
Overhead speakers in the corner blare techno music, which periodically puts out public announcements: "Locker 41, your room is ready. They are uniformly white and middle-aged, and most could use some time in the mirrored gymnasium situated next to a cramped locker room in the center of the warren. Others open into small chambers where naked men lie intertwined, or sit alone, towels around their waists, whispering invitations as I pass. I navigate a labyrinth of intersecting passageways made of wood and corrugated steel, lighted throughout by dim, red bulbs and lined with numbered doorways. The Chute reminds me of a Halloween spook house, groans and all, except the heads jerking up and down in dark corners are not exactly bobbing for apples. Snakebite kits are available behind one counter. Through yet another door is a foyer of display racks of wares to help the Chute's members explore more than that: latex gloves, enema kits, handcuffs, jars of lubricant labeled "Elbow Grease," and a wide selection of dildos, the most impressive of which is "The Man Rammer," a black staff of such length and heft a careless wielder could be charged with armed assault. This card describes the Chute as a gay men's health spa which enables its members to explore the issues of identity and spirituality. I sign a temporary membership card affirming that I am a gay man and warning that if I am not, I am thereby invading the privacy of those inside. I pay my 17 bucks and get a numbered padlock and a key. I'm told they're all occupied, but if I want one, they'll call my locker number as soon as one opens. The second door leads to a second waiting area with a price board: $17 a head for a towel and locker on weekends another $25 for a private room $35 for "specialty rooms." "One by one, boys," he says, pushing a hidden buzzer that unlocks a second door. Inside, a young, muscular, topless man wearing a bondage harness eyes new arrivals. Obviously.The 50-space parking lot behind this gay sex club in central Phoenix is nearly full, and there's a line forming beyond the tinted glass door that serves as the Chute's main entrance. It's not life-changing, but see it for Anderson's performance, and Udo Kier in drag.
House of Boys pulls no punches in depicting disease and the effects it can cause this may be unsettling for some, but you'll be glad you sat through it. Udo Kier and Stephen Webb are good for the laughs, which are few, but effective. He seems an odd choice next to Anderson, and his character is lost among the other, more colourful ones.
It's a shame he finds it with Benn Northover (whom I haven't seen in anything else either), who pales in comparison to pretty much every other performer in this film. I haven't seen him in anything else, but he's fantastic as the rebellious party-boy who finds his own heart. Admittedly there were some questionable parts, but overall this film does what it sets out to reel you in with many bare torsos and shove reality in your face with a hard knock, amid a love story that ultimately has you caring about it by the end.