Rocco

Many of the reviewers here were apparently expecting an hour and 45 minute long vlog by Rocco going about his daily life, which this is not about. Nor is it another sub-par "I use to do porn but now I am an advocate against it" type documentary.

Its an artistic film about Rocco's past and present with a behind the scenes look into some of the scenes and how he feels about it all. How he began to dislike what he did when his family came along and his sons began to grow up.

You also get to meet Kelly Stafford, a true unknowing victim of modern feminism, who basically needs to be choked and spit on during sex because she cannot meet a manly man in her real life. She aches for masculinity and dominance so she can succumb to her born-biological female need to be feminine and submissive.

The scenes may come across as "degrading" to some, but with masculinity so lacking in this day and age, its what these performers and the female viewers truly want and you get a first hand look into that.

This film digs deep into masculinity and femininity with a little background on the man so legendary for putting those very two things onto tape.

With all that in mind, enjoy.

So he's a porn star who is obsessed with his own Mother but gets off on hurting and humiliating girls he is attracted too...... Hmm? Norman Bates anyone? He said his mother was protective and would defend him and she would go after people using various things as weapons. Who were these people and why did he need protection from Mama? To be honest my opinion of the porn industry wasn't changed by this effort. I just see damaged goods who are making a living from letting us see them mating.

The documentary "Rocco" opens with a close up of Rocco Siffredi's penis. It's an obvious place to start, but it also serves as a summation the entire documentary. No matter how many opportunities directors Thierry Demaizière and Alban Teurlai give the aging porn star to bare his soul, he usually ends up just showing his d--- instead, metaphorically if not always literally.

But Rocco's penis has served him well. His IMDb page lists over 500 "acting credits," dating back to 1986, including a few legit gigs, such as Catherine Breillat's "Anatomy of Hell" and the Italian comedy "Matrimonia a Parigi" ("Rocco" the documentary makes no mention of these forays into "real" movies). It's afforded him fame and fortune, far more than most performers in the adult industry can claim, and for far longer, too. Only Ron Jeremy's career is (ahem) longer, dating back to the late '70s. Yet Rocco, in much better shape in his 50s than Jeremy was in his 30s, thinks it's time to retire from performing. He cites concerns for his teen-age sons, who know what their father does for a living but are, as presented in the documentary, shielded from seeing their father in action. (Their mother, Rosa Caracciolo, was also once a porn star, another detail this documentary makes no mention of.) Mostly, though, he's just tired. To hear him tell it, having a generous endowment and hyperactive sex drive is as much a curse as a blessing. In fact, Rocco pretty much portrays himself as a sex addict, barely able to interact with women outside of sex. Even when grieving the death of his beloved mother Rocco is unable to keep his desires in check: he tells of an encounter with a friend of his mother after his mother's funeral, when he takes out his moneymaker and coerces the woman--a senior citizen, mind you--to fellate him. The story is simultaneously outrageous (it sounds like a scene out of an '70s-era French sex comedy) and unsettling. He's telling the story to illustrate how he's a helpless slave to sex, blithely ignoring that, as he's told it, he forced an old woman to give him a BJ.

There are more graphic examples of Rocco's uneasy relations with women in the industry. At his Budapest-based porn production company, he's charming and even fatherly when chatting with his female performers before putting them in an uncomfortably rough group-sex scene, the kind that leaves women with rug burns on their backsides. (The only sex shown in this movie is of the rough variety.) He's equally charming in Los Angeles when meeting scene partner Abella Danger, then takes her up on an offer to demonstrate her ability to swallow his entire hand. Danger may not be doing anything against her will, but that doesn't make it any easier to watch her, gagging and with tears streaming down her face, as Rocco pushes his entire hand into her mouth.

The co-star Rocco chooses for his final scene is English porn star Kelly Stafford, much to the dismay of his hot-headed cousin and business partner, director Gabriel "Gabby" Galetta, who makes his dislike of the outspoken Stafford plain. One gets the idea that the fact that Stafford speaks at all is an issue in Galetta's eyes. Stafford is a handful, but I liked her for being a confident woman who won't do anything with which she'd be uncomfortable. In other words, she's not the type to let a man shove his hand down her throat just to prove she's compliant.

Though "Rocco" has its moments of levity, like a shot of naked male performers standing outside for a smoke break between takes, or the perplexed faces of crew members at Kink.com's studios, where Rocco's supposed final scene is being shot, as they listen to Galetta's confusing directions, they are overshadowed by the more depressing aspects of porn the documentary inadvertently exposes. Turns out enacting people's sexual fantasies is as dehumanizing and grueling as working on a factory assembly line. As for Rocco himself, he's personable if a little self-absorbed, not nearly as introspective or sensitive as he'd like us to believe, and his treatment of women is just a tad bit rape-y. Mostly, though, he's a guy who has a big penis.

Let me start off by saying I'm the furthest thing from a prude. Like most men, I've seen my fair share of porn and then some. I've lived through porn's "golden era", (i.e., pre-videotape and pre-internet).

Porn used to be very expensive to buy. It also wasn't very high-def either. This so-called documentary almost goes out of its way to be as blurry as those old VHS tapes were. The documentary is structured as if you just came in the middle of something, and no background or context is provided.

It takes a hardcore subject, and illustrates gang bangs and other raw activities in such a way that it already puts into question the morality or lawfulness of what they are doing.

Most documentaries about porn or its actors often tend to portray the negative side,casting its participants as hapless unfortunates drawn together for the sake of a quick buck or infamy. The girls have Daddy issues and the guys have big dicks and unmatched libidos.

To an outsider (i.e., those who haven't seen much porn), it almost always comes as a shock. You only get to see one side of the game. It all seems like chaos and indulgence. Rocco's duality, between his sex drive and his pious Italian upbringing appears to the reason why he's left feeling empty inside. Religion has a long tradition of treating sex as sinful and vile. But Rocco made his decision early in life to satisfy his earthly needs, and deal with the morals and ethics down the road. It's all an empty gesture to claim sorrow over choosing a life of porn, screwing every single fantasy woman imaginable.

To me, it's all "first world problems". I have zero sympathy for his internal demons. Men in his position could have handled their super libidos in many different ways. To start crying the blues now just seems pathetic and dumb. There are millions of men who suffer every single day NOT having sex, or living with ED. Rocco's over-abundance doesn't move me to tears.

Just about everything in this documentary is designed to confuse, misdirect and prop up the man as a tragic character. I'm sorry, but I don't buy it. Boo hoo, boo hoo... poor old me. I'm washed up as a porn actor, and I've suffered for my craft. Sure buddy. Whatever. The way Italian men think of their mamma's as saints makes me puke, especially for those that are in the mob or make a living porking the babes. It all seems a bit hypocritical, in my eyes.

Rashida Jones' series on the porn industry is ten times better than this load of horse crap.

"Rocco" opens with porn actor Rocco Siffredi talking about a "devil between his legs," his dark side that is permanently threatening to destroy his life. It's too bad that the filmmakers never make any effort to expose this devil and instead seem give their subject complete control over their project. The result is definitely interesting, and sporadically very funny, but unfortunately shies away from Rocco's darkest fears and the low-points of his life.

For those unaware, Rocco is a porn actor known for very rough scenes, though apparently (judging from this movie, at least) the work atmosphere on his sets is quite friendly and supportive of the women he works with. You could obviously question if the team is always this nice to the actresses, even when they are not being filmed by outsiders or the women decide in the last minute they don't want to do the really hard stuff, and since the directors rarely interview the porn stars without Rocco present, that element of the film doesn't hold up to much scrutiny. We just have to believe the movie that Rocco is always a nice guy to every girl he has sex in front of a camera with, and your willingness to sympathize with the main character in his more emotional scenes will likely depend on wether you go along with that or not.

Speaking of emotional scenes, there are a couple in which Siffredi talks about his family life growing up, or his family life now, and in these moments he seems honest and open about his feelings. However, once more the film suffers from a lack of outside perspective from people who might give a more critical account of our star's private behaviour. The scenes with his sons in particular are awkward to watch, and you can clearly see how uncomfortable they are with being filmed while their dad talks to them about porn.

Most of the movie is centered around Rocco with very few outsiders commenting on the man or his work. One is his wife, though we only get a few lines from her about how great a guy her husband is. Another is his cousin and co-worker Gabby, though he serves more as comedic relief (the disappointed look on his face after Siffredi simplifies a set piece he thought of is hilarious and sad at the same time) than he does provide a different viewpoint on the hardcore scenes he films. The only person who manages to take the spotlight away from Rocco and affect the way we see him is fellow porn actress Kelly Stafford, who stole the movie for me. Not only does she offer a female opinion on porn of Rocco's caliber, her friendship with the man, which ostensibly goes much deeper than a mere business relationship, is also very believable and heartwarming.

Overall, if you're interested in how porn scenes are filmed, this film might be of interest to you. Just don't expect it to be very critical of its subject.