variations on a theme
Sir Tijn Po

As the title suggests, this feature-length project consists of a collection of adult short silms which were conceived as variations on the theme of The Cuming Process. Each of the short films will explore a different aspect of our constant pursuit of pleasure and climax – whether it be sexual, artistic, intellectual, or any combination thereof.

The films will vary between comedy, satire, tragedy, abstraction, grotesque, etc., but will never lose sight of the key theme of indulgence. Hopefully, when seen all together, they will form an entertaining and insightful portrait of our fascinating, yet mysterious obsessions.

The films will be primarily live-action, but will also feature many animated sequences in the tradition pioneered by Jan Švankmajer’s short films. And since the individual stories are totally independent of each other, they can either be filmed in different cities by a small traveling crew, or they can all be filmed in one city and form an interesting portrait of its diversity.

Amongst the host of colorful characters that we will encounter will be a youngster with a harem full of (literally) mind-fucking spirits, females wielding sexy sacks of fat, gold-shitting alchemists, gauntlets full of crotch-smashing beauties, musical massages for our most essential body parts, turkey-lovers, real-life programmable companions, animated portraits of our masturbating souls, etc.

BONUS: We may make the whole script available here in the near future, but for now you can have little taste of one short that wasn’t good enough to make it into the final selection, but still makes us laugh when we read it.


Math (7 min.) – Live-Action. Set in a major Metropolis, preferably New York.

We begin with the close up an intellectual who seems to be trying to figure out something very complicated. This starts off a MONTAGE that follows an immigrant, who is new to New York City, as he wanders from club to club, trying to get in. The streets are full of clubs with neon digits (ranging from 1 to 10, or the very rare 10+) hanging over their entrances.

Outside the clubs there are red ropes, doormen, and lines of sexy clientele. Patrons are carded, and are admitted upon producing picture ID with the sufficient number. One bouncer can be overheard asking a very short man with a  #9 – ‘What, do you have a three-foot dick or something?’, and after checking the card again, finally lets him in.

Our Immigrant asks several bouncers where he can get an ID, and they either tell him to ‘Fuck off,’ or just ignore him, but his question never fails to elicit giggles from the customers on line. Eventually one kind customer tells him that ‘You have to go to an A-g-e-n-c-y.’

Alternate ‘agencies’ advertise on bus-stops and the like with ads reading ‘Avoid unpleasant surprises!’ (with images of beautiful woman with three tits, as well as bodybuilders with tiny cocks) ‘Join the rating system today!’, etc.

Our Immigrant eventually rings the bell and enters an ‘Agency’ – a large office containing many cubicles, and an atmosphere resembling a doctor’s clinic. He is welcomed, charged a substantial registration fee – payable up-front – and given a large questionnaire to fill out. Others in the waiting room eye each other competitively while filling out their own questionnaires.

He is finally called to the back by a guide, and taken from inspections to interviews (with lie-detector tests), to various tests, including a thorough physical, trivia exams, fashion quiz, live-sex test which he passes gloriously (nurse-like tester riding him to ecstasy, her screams being heard throughout the office, and, upon exiting, the female workers all eye him lasciviously). During the interviews, we find out key details about his life, including his having been a prestigious Math professor in Russia, etc.

CUT to him sitting in the waiting room waiting for results and his ID card. We see other people filling out questionnaires and eyeing each other, and he smiles proudly.

Receptionist: ‘Congratulations!’ as she hands him his card with a ‘6.’ He confidently turns it around, thinking it must be a ‘9.’

Immigrant: ‘Hey! You got the picture upside down.’

Receptionist (turning the card back around): ‘Don’t feel bad, I’m a 5 1/2… We can get it on if you’d like!’ (And she seductively swaying her hips and crosses legs slowly).

Immigrant: ‘But I’m a genius! This must be a mistake! Where is the manager?!’

Manager (coming out from a back office and flipping through the pages of his file): ‘Let’s see, you did indeed receive a very high intelligence rating, but…let’s see…your financial straits, lack of interest in marriage or children, (flips through some more pages) bad breathe, accent, perversion…(she pauses and looks up at him with a sorry expression)…It all adds up you know?’

Immigrant (with some tears in his eyes): ‘But she loved my cock! You should have seen her!’ (And he points to the woman who tested his love-making skills, who, in turn, blushes).

Manager (trying to calm him down, whispers): ‘That woman is a slut! You’re cock is way too big for the average woman. (After looking around, she whispers even lower)…I’d suggest trying a less exclusive agency…there are a few that  I can recommend.’ (And she winks)

Immigrant (screaming): ‘Less Exclusive? Less exclusive? Do you know who I am? Fuck off!’ (And he storms out)

In the elevator, while watching the floor numbers decrease as elevator descends, he curses to himself repeatedly.

As he exits the building, he is alarmed by an elderly anarchist-looking type standing just outside the doorway.

Immigrant: ‘What the fuck do you want?’

Anarchist: ‘Relax! I want to help you.’

Immigrant: ‘Help me? With what?’

Anarchist: ‘I want to help you beat the system. What did they give you in there?’

Immigrant (blushing): ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ (And he starts hurrying away)

Anarchist (catching up to him): ‘What did they give you, a five, a six?’

Immigrant (slows down and grabs the Anarchist by the collar): ‘How did you know that? Who are you?’

Anarchist (releasing himself from the Immigrant’s grip): ‘Look, don’t worry about who I am. Let’s just say that I know how the system works, and it’s bullshit. Absolute bullshit! And I’m willing to help you beat it. (He shows the Immigrant a bunch of fake IDs) You see these? These are perfect. No different than the real thing. I can get you as many extra digits as you want, for just 20 grand a pop!’

Immigrant: ‘I don’t understand you.’

Anarchist: ‘What did they give you in there?’

Immigrant (blushing, and lowering his eyes): ‘A six.’

Anarchist: ‘And what do you want, a ten?’

Immigrant: ‘Come on, be real. Look at me. I’d take a nine.’

Anarchist: ‘So you want three extra digits, times 20 thousand each, that’ll cost you sixty thousand dollars total, and I can have it for you within…’

Immigrant (interrupting): ‘Sixty thousand dollars! What are you crazy? And what difference does it make to you how many digits I want? It doesn’t cost you more to print a 7 or a 9!’

Anarchist: ‘Supply and demand, my friend. The fundamental principle of this great nation. Take it or leave it.’

They both look at each other silently for a few seconds.

Immigrant (with resignation): ‘I don’t have much of a choice, do I?’

Anarchist: ‘Not really. But trust me you won’t regret it.’ (And he winks)

Immigrant: ‘You asshole!’

And we go into a stop-motion MONTAGE (set to Country banjo music or the like) were we see the Immigrant sell everything he has, except for one suit and tie, then pays the Anarchist for the upgrade, looks at his new ID, smiles contentedly, and then begins fucking beyond his wildest dreams – always ‘at their place’ though…

The MONTAGE concludes with him fucking doggie style,  with only the women and surroundings changing constantly as he gets older and older (conveyed by adding wrinkles, white hair and baldness as the sequence progresses). Being that this will be a stop-motion sequence where everything jumps a bit anyway, the slight changes of his position when switching women and backgrounds will hardly be noticed.