This surreal submersion into Santa Monica Boulevard's hustling underground opens with a promise to tell "the truth, the whole truth, and nothing up your butt." On the contrary, there's plenty of shift-in-your-seat screwing in this humorous and occasionally artful vision of the Hollywood meat trade from directors Bruce LaBruce (Super 8-1/2) and Rick Castro. The film follows boy-for-rent Monti Ward (Tony Ward) through his sordid and bizarre encounters with fellow hustlers, johns, pornographers, and a surly but lustful foreign writer. As the smitten author, former porn god LaBruce delivers a welcome dose of camp to relieve the dark barrage of gangbangs and S&M stunts.

Castro's background as a photographer is clearly evident as hustlers strike Bruce Weberesque poses on the sun-drenched strip and a garish drag queen fulfills his fantasies involving duct tape -- lots of duct tape. Although clearly not for those who are content to live their lives never having witnessed an amputee "stump hump," the first of the Hustler series appears destined for cult status. At the Coolidge Corner.