If you’ve read any of these trailer reviews before, you’ll know that they operate to a rigid formula. I watch the trailer, I screengrab the trailer and then I make a series of hackneyed non-jokes about the trailer. This approach works for most films; but not The Onania Club.

The trailer for The Onania Club – Tom Six’s barely anticipated follow-up to the Human Centipede trilogy – was released yesterday. It is 40 seconds long, and it cannot be screengrabbed. This is because, in its entirety, The Onania Club’s trailer just consists of women masturbating to 9/11.

That’s it. A woman knocks on the door of a mansion, and an older woman answers. She smiles, and then the trailer cuts to a living room, where four women masturbate to a television showing footage of a plane hitting the World Trade Center. Then there’s a Schopenhauer quote and it ends. That’s the entire trailer.

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Perhaps Six chose this clip because it’s destined to become the most notorious scene of the movie. Or perhaps it’s the only scene in the movie. Because Six doesn’t really make movies. If you’ve seen his previous work, you’ll know his process just involves having one puerile idea and padding it out to feature length with all manner of tedious, no-effort explanation. So perhaps that’s what this is. Perhaps The Onania Club exists because Six wanted to film some middle-aged women touching themselves to a terrorist atrocity, and the rest of the film is just stilted, piss-poor dialogue delivered by dismal non-actors who’d almost definitely feel more career satisfaction if they quit the industry and started working in a shop.

I have seen The Onania Club trailer exactly once, and I’m in no hurry to see it again. Not because I find it particularly offensive or insulting; which, let’s be clear, is exactly what Six wants from this. No, I’m never going to watch the Onania Club trailer again because I’m tired. I’m tired of Six’s witless tee-hee provocation. Other writers who have seen the trailer have described how it stirred feelings of rage in them, but I can’t even muster that. At best, there’s a sense of resignation that I suppose this is just how the world is. The Onania Club trailers exists, in the same way that inert gases exist. Great. Hooray.

Six wants us to hate this so badly. Even his description of The Onania Club – “Strong, rich, white LA women (über bitches) run the show and deeply enjoy the misery of others. The film will be a pleasant breath of polluted air in today’s growing political correctness and intolerance” – is crudely designed to flamethrow snowflakes. It contorts itself silly to hit as many triggers as it can, presumably because Six knows that if he relied on basic quality for publicity he’d die in obscurity next week. Watching all his effort, all his pointless desperation to just be noticed by anyone is exhausting.

There’s going to be a film in which actors simulate masturbation to footage of thousands of people dying. If you’re a 14-year-old boy, please enjoy this film; both the sole microsecond of arousal you’ll feel in the moment and the ensuing decades of low-level, relationship-destroying self-hatred you’ll inevitably have to grapple with as a result of ever wanting to watch it in the first place. But you’ll have to excuse me for not joining you. I am so tired.