Dick

In the latest documentary involving some kind of supposed taboo comes "Dick. The Documentary." This is a 45-minute raw account of the penis the way we all know it. It is truly the time for this kind of documentary, which doesn't beat around the bush, hyperbolize, or underplay something so perfectly normal (and, after all, attached to the human body). Films, minus perhaps one or two like Michael Fassbender's moment in the buff, avoid the cock shot, and it has long been a contested gripe for film (and cock) lovers and, of course, critics. The director and producer Brian Fender knows all this and does his bit with great consideration - with and without foreskins.

The documentary starts with a bunch of headless gentlemen -- clothed, and just showcasing their bodies from neck to knees. As the documentary goes on, their clothes come off and dicks swing, hide, and naturally come out to play for all to see and admire (or quail from). Questions like, "Am I more than just my dick?" and "What does your dick do?" are posed to a serious of seemingly random men. These men -- all shapes, colors and sizes -- all have penises (no surprise there) and have used and abused them. The answers they give are all fascinating.

Asking these guys whether size matters, and whether they would have wanted a bigger or smaller dick, elicits candid answers that make for interesting watching. Even if this doc is rather short, it brings up creative ideas and ponders questions like why there just aren't any magazines for normal guys with regular-sized cocks. It's interesting that, although we all see those cocks (well, a lot of us do), we don't want to see them in our fantasies. So what do we want to see, exactly?

Some accounts are all about church, or school, or gym locker rooms, and the familiarity of the situation is touching (not literally). Whether you show your penis to men or women, the romance of self-acceptance is pivotal to this documentary. Close up shots of the different sizes, discussions on hygiene and circumcised dicks, and the white gunk that comes with some penises is graphic but not distorted -- a healthy and wonderful thing about documentaries uninterested in budgets and big corporates.

An emotional story or two about prostate cancer and losing your sex life (never mind penis sensitivity) is something so new and unexplored that it rates as one of the highlights I've seen on film this year. And then when the men are asked when they first remember showing their dick to someone, the mood is broken completely with some great laughs.