In 1980 the suburban New York City town where my parents lived was a test market for HBO. Cable TV was just getting established. HBO, with a revolutionary concept at the time, of commercial free, uncut and adult-rated films was available by subscription. Its film library was far from expansive, airing a limited selection of mainly art house and foreign film titles, repeated over and over. I was in my early 20s and working odd hours and different shifts at the time. If I had a short turn around between shifts I would occasionally sleep at my parent's, whose house was much closer to my work place. So one day, as it happened, Luna was playing on HBO. My Mom and I, not aware of the plot, watched it together. There is a scene where Jill Clayburg manually brings her son to climax. My Mom and I were too frozen in awkwardness to move or speak. I was too self conscious to acknowledge my embarrassment and my Mom, I guess, was equally at a loss break the paralysis which kept us both stuck as the scene played out. So, unless you enjoy extreme squirming do not watch this film with either a parent or offspring!
Review of Luna
