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--Monday, June 27, 2005--

Sort of Inside Deep Throat, but not all the way in

Inside Deep Throat isn't a fair and balanced documentary, but it's entertaining. Borrowing liberally from the faux-retro stylebook created by The Kid Stays in the Picture, IDT combines 70's-style graphics and stock footage with the only soundtrack ever to feature Supertramp (and a Gary Glitter song that isn't "Rock And Roll Part One" for once).

Deep Throat opened in Times Square in June, 1972. A departure from the "educational" adult film and the traditional stag film in that it had a narrative (Linda Lovelace searches for an orgasm in Florida, hampered by her hard-to-reach clitoris), it became the first "event" porn film and eventually grossed $600 million, making it the most profitable film of all time. It featured in U.S. Obscenity Law, the feminist movement, and became a cash cow, the film suggests, for the Mafia.

How the film suggests is less its narration (Dennis Hopper has become the Voice of the Early Seventies) than its avoidance in interview segments of shutting off the camera. While no one in the doc says Throat Director Gerard Damiano was mobbed up, for example, the tape runs to record his awkward silence when the subject is introduced.

This is a trick Errol Morris employs in his own documentaries, but Inside Deep Throat uses this tactic irresponsibly. We are a culture that seeks to fill silences, and silences are always awkward because of this. That IDT exploits these silences to imply guilt (or make someone look foolish) mars an otherwise competent historical document.

Producers Fenton Bailey and Randy Barbato have taken a crash course in Porn Valley. Their company, World of Wonder, put together Wired for Sex in 2003, sending teams to various establishments in the adult industry (including Ponante-era AVN) to illustrate the porn world's bleeding-edge role in recreational technology. Their product is always entertaining and well-researched, dealing mostly in three fields: porn, the mainstream entertainment industry, and Gay America.

Even as the documentary draws a distinction between today's desensitized society and the sociopolitical turmoil that followed Deep Throat wherever it played, I was struck by certain themes common to the modern skin trade and its 70's counterpart.

Throat's corny doctor, Harry Reems, had dreams of becoming a legitimate star. Instead, though his legal woes had the sympathy of liberal Hollywood, he couldn't get cast in a mainstream movie (he was up for Sid Caesar's part in Grease and I bet he would have been pretty good). Linda Lovelace renounced porn, blaming her participation on an abusive suitcase pimp, then returned for a spread in Legshow at age 50. Everybody complained of not making any money from the picture. No one seemed to judge Throat on its own merits, but instead called it either art or trash.

The documentary lets a few people skewer themselves (prosecutor Larry Parrish, anti-porn crusader/embezzler Charles Keating) and some folks come off looking good (is it that Hugh Hefner and Larry Flynt don't have offices north of Ventura Blvd. that they seem so much more urbane than anyone who does?) Harry Reems, now a Christian and a real estate broker in Park City seems, Ringo Starr-like, to be taking his accidental celebrity in stride with good will and humor. IDT also provides the quintessential Porn Doofus in Throat's production manager, Ron Wertheim. Wertheim doesn't need sneaky camera tricks to look like a bonehead.

Porn Valley's drama queens are forever clucking about mainstream media's conniving and exploitive tactics re: the adult industry. They say that mainstream descends on the Valley during Sweeps to get titillating copy, which it then derides. So? Show us you're worth being taken seriously. Put out something that the ordinary American would watch more than five minutes (without being paid to review it) and maybe the indignance would be justified.

Inside Deep Throat paints the picture of a fun little film (made for $25K) that achieved what today's industry pretends to: relevance.

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--Wednesday, June 22, 2005--

Hiya Sophia Santi

I spoke with Digital Playground founder Samantha Lewis
and the company's newest contract persona, Sophia Santi.

The way one usually talks with a DP functionary is with
someone else listening in, like Mary Hatch's mother in
It's A Wonderful Life, so I was not surprised
when Sam quashed all my attempts to ask Sophia about soybeans
and getting in on the ground floor of the new plastics
industry from right here in Bedford Falls.

GP: Samantha, I always liked the webcast DP Tonight. It was where I first met Kiki D'aire, Self-Hating Lew, Penthouse Pet Sam Phillips, Jesse Jane, and that couch. When will it return?

SL: We're revamping it now. When Joone
is through editing Pirates in the fall, that is going to
be his main priority. We want to up the professionalism
of the show.

GP: But I liked the couch. I thought it
had a nice, homey, musty feel to it.

SL: Well, we're looking for a new space
that will accommodate a bigger studio.

GP: What will the new format be like?

SL: We'll probably do
them every two weeks, and have the contract stars rotate
hosting duties.


Samantha proceeded to tell me how great Sophia was, how
beautiful, kind, thrifty, clean, and reverent. I believed
everything I heard. Why would she lie? I thought.


Sophia Santi is 23 and, as an excellent article in XBiz
pointed out, Canadian. But I decided to probe deeper.


GP: Sophia, where are you from, exactly, in Canadia?

SS: Winnipeg, but I moved to Vancouver.
I moved to Arizona when I was 18

GP: How long have you been Sophia Santi?

SS: For about two weeks. I was Natalia Cruze
for (Digital Playground's) Posh Kitten and Jack's
Playground 32
, but I signed a contract with
them in between Posh and Jack's, so when the movies are released
I'll be credited as Sophia Santi.


Santi joined the business from Vancouver in 2002 and then
moved to LA with her manager. She made the cover of Penthouse
that year and was runner-up for Pet of the Year in 2005.
Lewis said that part of Santi's promotions will be cross-pollenated
with Penthouse.


GP: Have you met all the other contract
superstars like (I am) Teagan Presley, Devon, Jesse
Jane, and Janine?

SS: I've only met Jesse Jane. She's super
nice.

GP: Do you know that she's had people ki
- ? Ah forget it.

SS: What?

GP: Did you have a big introductory pillow
fight with all the other girls?

SS: Not yet - but do you want to come?

GP: Yes. I shall be the Pillowfight Coordinator.
Tell me about your contract. How long is it?

SS: I signed a non-disclosure agreement,
so I can't really talk about it. It's for quite a bit of
time.


Digital Playground publicist Adella had said earlier
that it was unknown whether Santi would be exclusively
shooting girl/girl scenes. The porn progression usually
goes like this: I won't do men, (all right I'll do men),
I won't do interracial men (all right I'll do interracial
men), I won't do anal (Hey this isn't bad Gram), I won't
marry the guy who runs your affiliate program.


GP: I am a man. Will you do scenes with
men?

SS: Yes, but I love women. I'll do anything
these people tell me.

GP: Don't say that too loud.

SS: Seriously, I'm a very independent
person, but I like structure. So whatever they ask me to
do ...

GP: "Wow."
What do you get up to when you're not being a hot porn
chick professionally?

SS: I like reading. I will read the cereal
box at breakfast if there's nothing else. And I like natural
medicine.

GP: When your DP contract expires when
you are fifty or sixty, can you imagine traveling around
the country talking about sex-positive issues, ala Nina
Hartley and Annie Sprinkle?

SS: I would like to have my doctorate
in natural medicine -


Santi's phone goes out.
I call back and Samantha tells me that Sophia Santi is
beautiful, charming, and sexy.


GP: Adella told me that you're an all
Macintosh house there at Digital Playground.

SL: Well, we have one web designer on
a PC waiting for Macs to go Intel, and our accounting department
is on a PC, but we're mostly Macs.

GP: This has nothing to do with anything.

SL: Sophia Santi is lovely.


Digital Playground will be building a site for Sophia,
who arrived at her name after a brainstorming session with
Samantha and Joone.


GP: What about your old life as Natalia
Cruze? What about your websites?

SS: Those are not my websites. I never
made a cent from them. Someone just took my name and made
money from it.


Adella had said earlier that Sophia owns the name Sophia
Santi, which is trademarked.


GP: Do you believe that shooting porn
can coexist with your philosophies of natural healing?

SS: Totally. The Ayurvedic teachings and
Tantric teachings let us know the body is beautiful and
that communicating that way is good.

GP: Is Digital Playground going to buy
you a Hummer 2?

SS: I'd rather have an S-Class.


Sophia has been a fan of Janine for several years, and
it will be with Janine that she will shoot her first feature
as Sophia Santi next month. The project is as-yet-untitled.
Janine is the other DP star with a tattoo. Santi herself
has a dragon on her back.


GP: It's a leap for Digital Playground
to hire tattoo girls. That is a bad-ass dragon.

SS: I'm trying to look badder than I am.

GP: But when you did car shows and Telemundo
events -

SS: All the Mexican guys loved me.

GP: Have Sam and Joone showed you Contract
Star
yet?

SS: No.


GP: You'll like it. Here is a limerick I
have composed for this occasion:


While making a wad of your panty

I said thus to Sophia Santi:

"You might as well lose

The Natalia Cruze

And just become Mrs. Ponante."


SS: I need to go.


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--Monday, June 06, 2005--

Kill Girl Kill 3: (Repo Man 2)

This electronic ankle bracelet keeps your pal Gram from getting out of Porn Valley much, but a call from tortured, misunderstood wunderkind Eon McKai and diminutive, Lovecraft-loving
Joanna Angel, like the blood of Christ, compelled me to the exotic cities of Vernon and Huntington Park this weekend, driving past 66-cent stores and Repo Man-reminiscent locales
to watch the shooting of Kill Girl Kill 3.
Those of you reading for the first or final time might wonder what attending a porn shoot is like. Well, it's a dream-come-true. It's magical. Were it not for the weapons-grade truss I wear for just these occasions, I would continually re-break my nose with my powerful erections.

That, the copious supply of Power Bars, and the off-chance that I might see Heidi Pike-Johnson are the things that keep me coming back despite clinical priapism and my painful
social awkwardness.

Anyway, Eon McKai, the Burning Angel group, Benny Profane
and various other youngsters who make porn that features
non-traditional-looking hotties, hotties wearing band-aids
and sporting black eyes and bloody noses,
pale, perhaps heavier, covered in tattooes, or otherwise
looking like the women I dated in college (in college,
we called these women "sullen", "crazy", and/or "morose",
but today's politically-correct atmosphere demands we
label them "hot like fire") belong to an altporn world
that is getting a great deal of press, laudatory and dismissive.





Apparently there was a New York Times story about altporn
that VCA publicist Sean Carney called "smarmy and mocking",
and then a New Republic piece that was less about
altporn than it was about the smarmy and mocking tone of
the New York Times article. I have not read either of these
items because I feel that, by the time something gets beyond
a grass-roots level to heights such as those, it's best to
fall back on the fact that you can actually have sex with
someone rather than reading about what the NYT thinks
about your aesthetic.

That Joanna Angel, who started Burning Angel as a "punkrock Playboy" with Rutgers buddy Mitch Fontaine in 2002, is even shooting in Southern California is, well, partly a financial decision but otherwise pretty impressive for what it represents. McKai has racked up some good numbers for Art School Sluts and Kill Girl Kill (volume 2 comes out in July) and Burning Angel has been a harder-edged Suicide Girls (there will probably always be that easy,unfair comparison) based out of Brooklyn, but McKai's "I won't shoot in the Valley" platform and BA's NYC particularity made it unlikely that the two groups would get together,even if they had a mutual admiration society going on.

"We would send e-mails to Burning Angel and they wouldn't respond," said Malachi Ecks, McKai's producer.


Now with BA starting to release DVDs (their first, called Burning Angel.com: the DVD for some reason, came out in April, and their Cthulhu-porn Re-Penetrator will go on sale in two weeks), the shoe is on the other foot. In addition to filming a scene for someone other than herself, Angel and partner Fontaine are getting the lowdown on how to shoot a porn movie, studio style.

Burning Angel, Fontaine said, started as a membership site with Joanna and five friends posing, blogging, and shooting Internet-only videos. "We were trading ads with our friends' record labels," he said, "and then it slowly started taking off."

Fontaine said that constrictions of location and money required creative solutions to shooting porn in New York. "We had to find other ways to make shit look hot," he said. One recent solution was "Schoolbus Bitches", in which various Angels fuck their way through Williamsburg in the back of a short schoolbus that was purchased and refitted by yet more friends in bands.

"Short schoolbuses aren't just for the retarded," Fontaine explained. "Our high school bowling team had a short schoolbus."

Ecks and McKai were both DJs holding down day jobs when they met. Ecks was working at VCA in the art department, pulling chromes, and knew publicist Carney who was then at LFP. Carney also spins that goddamned house music. Art School Sluts started taking shape two years ago when VCA was still its own company.

Now VCA is owned by LFP which, depending on who you believe, is either killing its child slowly or giving it enough room to hang itself. Carney agrees that VCA has taken advantageof its new status to do some risky things.

"The Eon gamble has really paid off," he said.

The KGK3 shoot took place in the Soto Street buildings that used to house Dreamhost. They are now being used for an Internet company, a music warehouse, parties here andthere, and porn shoots. The place looks like a 1950s state facility with carpets.

Angel, who at 5'3" actually fits in my hand, was being made up by Molly, who also does the faces of Otto Bauer and Audrey Hollander. Angel was wearing a t-shirt, looking like a weary babysitter, and sitting next to Art School Sluts' James Deen when I came in, and 90 minutes later, she looked like a breath of dirty air. Still, she sounds a lot taller and more evil in instant messages. In person she has a very soft voice.

"Don't make me look stupid," she wrote.

"It's not in my m.o. to make you look stupid," I wrote back. When I met her, I asked her if the Burning Angel girls would ever fight the Vivid girls. "Don't be stupid," she said.

Angel is being repped locally by Bad-Ass Frank, president of Bad-Ass Talent. Frank got into the habit, really, of being a talent manager when friends asked him to accompany them to shoots. "I didn't like it when they came back crying," he said, "so I started going to shoots and talking with directors beforehand."

Despite being a former bodybuilder, Frank doesn't have the air of menace or despair-induced glassiness of suitcase pimps. "Being in the business has actually encouraged my monogamy," he said. He has a steady girlfriend, refuses more clients than he takes ("I've referred a bunch of people to Jim South without even a thank you note from the guy," he said), and takes a 10 percent commission.

"Even on print jobs?" I asked. "Print agents scam 20 percent off of those."

"I'll look into it," he said.

Frank is soliciting bids to put together a video project of his own and will begin shooting a spec in two weeks.

That all these people are cooperating in the same building would be hard to believe in other studios or offices. This group is like the Beats in the 50's, except they use electroclash and meth instead of jazz, benzedrine, and jugs of wine.

They're like the expatriates of the 20s without the pressed linen fetish and cigarette habits. They're like the various elements of King Crimson if that band produced videos of anal sex with girls on crutches.

Wardrobe designer Jon San Nicolas had commissioned his mother to craft a tutu for a Japanese Lolita that would be used later.

"She would have disowned me by now if she didn't like it," he said.

San Nicolas, I think, is the youngest person I've met who doesn't offer a traditional "porn excuse", some pat metadata about why he's doing porn rather than (or in addition to) something else. "I had a roommate who was a porn production assistant," he said. "Designing clothes is so much better."

Yes. Since there are no fluffers anymore, porn P.A.s do far more horrifying things for their fistful of Red Vines and box of VHS tapes to pay off the pizza guy.

Eon McKai was shooting stills in an adjacent office. McKai,
who has a mainstream job as a video editor, has found himself
being approached for porn-lite mainstream projects as his
porn persona, including the recent Louis XIV "Paper Doll"
video on Suicide
Girls
.
"The pseudonym thing gets difficult after a while," he
said, "but the identity stays the same."


Because I needed to feed the monkey, I couldn't stay all
day, and so I only hung around for the stills. San Nicolas
outfitted Angel with some boots and fishnets. She posed
in the panelled office with scene partner James Deen. He
had been grousing all day about his representation in the
KGK2 trailer. "I 'm just grabbing my package," he said.


"Better be careful of what the camera picks up," McKai
said.


My favorite McKai quote goes something like, "It's like
getting all your friends and making a porn film." I think
that's more important and impressive than whether or not
porn is alt or alt is good.

For people who actually watch
porn (rather than just the culture that surrounds it),
altporn isn't really a big deal or, save for the trappings,
talent, and attitude, much diffferent from any other kind
of porn. That its purveyors believe in it
is what sets it apart.


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--Friday, June 03, 2005--

I am Teagan Presley (I am not Teagan Presley)

I accepted awards on behalf of Digital Playground last night, which couldn't attend the XRCO Awards because it had to go to soccer practice. Other than someone from Table 1 screaming for me to get off the stage and Cousin Stevie looking at me like I was nuts when I came up to collect the award for Best New Starlet, I seriously enjoyed getting a placque job from Hollie Wellin.



Later, the mild-mannered Jared Rutter asked me if "those awards are going to get to Teagan."



I replied that I may hold them for ransom until she lets me knock her up.

(Of course you'll get your awards, Teagan.)

I was disappointed that the brouhaha over Wankus came to naught, and he wasn't shot on stage like Barbara Jean in Nashville. He and Taylor Wane worked well together when she wasn't stepping on his punchlines. I was further shocked and horrified when he repeated a joke about Christy Canyon that he'd made Tuesday night about Angel. "I don't want to fuck her," he said two times in a week about two different people, "I just want to stick it in her and come."

I felt like my hero had died.



Brian Surewood called from the bottom of a well to accept his award. The ClubJenna girls have seven days to live.

Taylor Wane is saucy. I am not the submissive type, but I wish Clan Ponante could have afforded Taylor as a governess when I was a tot.

jessica drake is classy. I feel like e.e. cummings when I see her.



Keiko and Rob Longshot were the best-dressed, with coordinated drinks, even.



I will never trust Bill Margold again when he says, "History will be made." What were you talking about?

Missy Monroe should just stop by and see if anything needs fixing, or if she can bust up a chiffarobe.



Again, Cousin Stevie wanted me dead, I think, until I commented favorably on his baseball documentary. Here he is with Flower Tucci and the President of the Encino Coverdale/Page fan club.



This Hollie Wellin is a menace and needs to be stopped. Like a bottle. If you know what I mean.

Who is this person with Randy West and Christy Canyon? She shows up everywhere with that brown hair and that hat. Is she famous? All I know is that's Self-Hating Lew's g-ddamn camera.


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--Wednesday, June 01, 2005--

Cousin Stevie's Green Room

I don't know what I expected, but I didn't expect this. I definitely did not expect baseball bats and intra-lady squirting. Pictured is Kami Andrews, who has that railroad track-adjacent cigarette smoking thing going on. Gram Likes Itâ„¢. The jury is way, way out on the baseball bats, though, especially before the All-Star break.

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