You know how people say how sex is a celebration of life? The Air Sex Championships aren’t like that. The Air Sex Championships are pretty messed up. Director Kevin Smith went to one in Austin and had to leave, not because he’s a prude, but because people were fucking the air. A woman on her hands and knees, pulling and sucking, looking like she’s fixing a submarine. A man squatting and bucking, pushing Mine That Bird to a Kentucky Derby win. Air sex started in Japan – enough said about that – then got big in Austin. Pop quiz: Does seeing a guy do the “wanker” gesture, miming masturbation, turn your stomach? Because that’s an elementary, bridge-building move here, an air-sex staple that hints at wonders to come. So is slapping that ass. And don’t forget about climaxing, because the competitors won’t. If you think bad actors take a while to die, wait till you see the showboating that erupts after three minutes of simulated trampoline porn star sex in front of a half-stunned, half-hysterical crowd. If it wasn’t so hilarious, it would be illegal.
Wed., June 24, 9 p.m., 2009
