by Paul Heald
INTERVIEWER: What did he do?
SUBJECT: In theory, he was my manager. In reality, I was just a way to support his habit. That was the only good thing about doing movies. He couldn’t handle me having sex with other guys, so he eventually left.
INTERVIEWER: How did you make the transition into adult videos?
SUBJECT: Make the transition? Like I had any choice in the matter! I’d been modeling for a couple of years. I hated it, but we needed the money. I was in every men’s magazine that you can name. Anyway, one day I got sent out for a shoot and I saw a way bigger crew than usual. With most photo shoots, there’s just a photographer, a makeup girl, and maybe a light guy. There must have been a dozen people at this house up in Topanga Canyon. I’m looking around trying to figure out what’s going on and no one would say anything more than, “Sheila, try the breakfast buffet; it’s great.” Finally, this guy introduced himself as the director and told me what he expected me to do. I totally freaked out and called my agent.
INTERVIEWER: You didn’t want to do the shoot?
SUBJECT: Of course, I didn’t. My agent thought that I would be impressed by how much money I’d make, but I said no way. Then, he informed me that he had made a commitment to the production company for three films and that we’d be sued if I didn’t go through with it. Well, I couldn’t afford to pay a bunch of lawyers to fight it, so I figured I’d grit my teeth and do the movie.
INTERVIEWER: Why didn’t you stop with the couple?
SUBJECT: My agent said that he was having trouble getting modeling gigs for me; I needed to keep making videos in order to earn any kind of money. Since I was snorting two to three hundred dollars a day at that point, I didn’t really have any choice. My family wasn’t talking to me, and my only friends were in the business. They weren’t going to help me quit. I was such a fool. I didn’t see that they were all just bloodsuckers.
INTERVIEWER: How did you eventually get out?
SUBJECT: I talked to a pastor who finally got me to see how I had been used. I was a very trusting person who had gotten into a business where you shouldn’t trust anybody. He helped me to see my years as a porn star as a long black tunnel that I had to emerge from. I wasn’t a bad person; I was just forced to do bad things.
INTERVIEWER: What are you doing now?
SUBJECT: I’ve got a great job at a non-profit agency that works with abused girls and runaways. I’ve even gotten to do some public speaking about my experiences at fund raising events and on a couple of talk shows. I hope what you’re doing isn’t going to be some sort of whitewash. This business is pure exploitation.
INTERVIEWER: I can honestly say that we have no agenda. We’re just interviewing as many people as we can and collecting their perceptions.
SUBJECT: Well, beware the party line: [raising the pitch of her voice] I love having sex on camera, especially anal sex! I wouldn’t want to be doing anything else. I have multiple orgasms every time I screw on camera. [back in normal voice] Take everything with a grain of salt.
INTERVIEWER: We certainly plan to.
SUBJECT: What you might want to do is read Linda Lovelace’s book, the one where she describes how she was forced to have sex during the filming of Deep Throat. For me, that book captures the whole spirit of the porn enterprise. She describes a gun literally being held to her head.
INTERVIEWER: Have you seen anything that extreme yourself?
SUBJECT: Not myself, but it happens! Linda really had to struggle to get out of the business. Me too. If Jesus hadn’t plucked me up, I don’t know what would have happened. There is no other way to escape. Even if you stop doing movies and take a regular job, until you’ve found Jesus, you’re still doing porn in your heart . . .
* * *
“That was weird,” Angela commented after the interview ended and she turned off the equipment. “Susan said out loud all the things that I’ve been thinking about porn, but I really didn’t like her that much.”
“Me neither,” her husband replied as he turned off the lights in the room and opened the door for her. “Too sanctimonious by half.” He put his arm on the small of her back while they walked down the stairs. “Layla and Kristy are a lot more likeable, even though they’re still working.”
They got in the car and pulled into traffic. The boulevard leading back east to their hotel was stop-and-go as far as they could see. They crept forward a block before getting wedged behind a delivery truck in front of a strip club. “Stan?”
“Yeah?”
“What do you really think about all this stuff?” Angela understood the need to collect information, she did it all the time for her articles, but the point of the collection was to gain some perspective and then pass judgment. If anything annoyed her about her husband’s job, it was the alleged inappropriateness of actually expressing a personal opinion.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re always the objective observer, gathering data and writing it up.” She turned in the seat so that she could see him more easily. “But you’ve just spent six hours talking to porn stars in a hotel room: What do you really think?”
“I don’t know. What do you think?”
“Stop being such a wimp!” She was not going to let him get away with turning the table. “If you were single, would you sleep with Kristy? Would you ban porno movies if you could? Is there a difference between what happens in a porn video and a club like that?” She gestured with her thumb to the Pink Pussycat Gentlemen’s Lounge.
“Would I ban porn?” He skipped over the question about Kristy. “It’s been banned at various times in various places and that’s never seemed to work. Victorian England was a hotbed of porn even though it was totally illegal.”
“That’s not what I meant!” She yanked his seatbelt as the car inched forward toward the next stop light. “Do you think pornography is bad?”
“I don’t even know what that means,” he shook his head, refusing to be pulled into an argument. “I know you disapprove, but I don’t see why I have to decide whether porn’s bad or not. The first amendment protects most of it, so why do I need to take sides?”
“Don’t you once in a while feel the need to commit to a position?”
“I’m not sure—”
“—Stan!”
He laughed as he fended off a playful slap. “Of course I do.” The traffic started loosening up a bit and he began to roll forward steadily without having to press the brake. “By the time I finished interviewing carnival workers, I couldn’t stand them. I don’t think I’ll ever go to the county fair again.” Choking the devious little carnie bastards would have been even more fun, but scientific detachment forbade such measures. “But I’m not sure that I’d ban carnivals. That just seems pointless.”
“We’re just different,” she concluded after digesting his response. “I’m always wanting to change the world and you’re always looking at individual problems. We’ve had this argument before.” She gestured to the right lane to indicate it was moving more quickly. “Alright then, do you feel guilty when you consume pornography?” Then she added with a mischievous grin, “And would you sleep with Kristy?”
He squirmed against the seat. “Look, I don’t see why anyone should feel guilty about consuming free porn, but throwing money around in a strip club is clearly a different matter. That’s direct support.”
“What about paying for the movie we watched?”
He chewed his lip while he considered his answer. “I wanna do some more interviews first. Don might be right about some movies . . .”
“And Kristy?”
“If I were single, I’d do her in a heartbeat.”
“You pig!” She smacked him with the back of her hand.
“Hey,” he exclaimed as he finally moved into the fast lane, “you’re the one who wants me to take more passionate positions.”
In their hotel room, Stanley sat on the bed staring at the television screen. The announcer on the local NBC affiliate had just explained
that Donald Johansson, aka Richard Ramrod, had been arrested for bludgeoning to death his top grossing star with a wooden paddle. The reporter added, with a knowing look, that drugs and alcohol appeared to have played a significant role in the crime.
The professor muted the television and tried to decide what was worse, watching a former friend flush his life down the toilet or having the same friend sabotage his own academic career. It seemed unlikely that the interviews would continue now, making it unlikely that his book would ever be finished, making it likely that he would soon be looking for another job. He felt guilty for equating his own worries with Johansson’s, but could not help but wonder who else would be affected by the sensational crime.
“I guess it’s a dark night for the adult filmmakers,” he wondered somewhat absently.
“Or it might be celebration time,” Angela replied.
“Huh?”
“Didn’t you say that Don was putting a serious dent in the competition’s profits? How many of the Women of Eden will want to continue to work for his company?” She turned off the television and stood up. “And surely the distribution deal is dead. No mainstream market is going to touch Toys in Babeland now. In some corners, this might be considered pretty good news.”
“Maybe you’re right.” He sat thinking for a moment longer and then grabbed his keys. “Who knows? I’m wiped. Let’s just go to dinner and see what happens tomorrow.”
X.
THE SHOW MUST GO ON
The next morning, the young couple arrived early at the interview hotel and sat gloomily reading the LA Times account of the murder while waiting for Shalya Devereaux, a young star currently working for Boudoir Films. The Times story provided no new information beyond a brief comment from a spokesperson at American Cinema Distribution confirming Angela’s guess that the nationwide distribution of Toys in Babeland would be put on indefinite hold. Stanley refused to torture himself by looking at the clock, so he read through the front page stories and ploughed through the comics and the sports page before Angela finally cleared her throat.
“She’s twenty minutes late.”
“Maybe she’s stuck in traffic.” He snapped the pages of the newspaper back and folded the crossword puzzle into a neat square.
“Well, I’m giving her a few more minutes, then I’m going out and getting us some coffee.”
When she got back from her coffee run, she found him alone, pouring over the real estate section of the paper and shaking his head at the cost of even the most modest house in Los Angeles County.
At the one hour mark, Stanley paced and looked through the curtains to see if any likely candidates were headed up to the room. All he could see were waves of heat rising off of the asphalt parking lot. He finally forced himself to sit down and read the part of the paper that he usually avoided: the business section. On the bottom of the first page was a description of the broken deal that Eden Studio had struck with American Cinema Distributors. The deal was newsworthy, the paper explained, because of the nature of the film, not because of the contract terms which were modest by current standards. The story had been filed before news of the murder had scuttled the transaction, but it did contain one new bit of information. Eden Studio was described as “financially troubled,” and he was reminded that Stan Matteson had alluded to money problems when he had visited Chimera Studios with Don.
As he finished, he was startled by a knock on the door. Angela got up to open it. It was ten fifty-five, nearly time for the second interview. A tiny brunette wearing tight designer jeans and a sleeveless blouse stood in the doorway.
“Come in!” Stanley stood up and extended his hand with an anxious smile. “I’m Professor Hopkins. This is my wife and audio engineer, Angela.”
“Nice to meet both of you. I’m Ginger Porsche.” She returned his smile and revealed a perfect set of white teeth. She had a glowing girl-next-door look that spoke of malt shops, picket fences, and chaste kisses at the prom.
“I’m so glad you came,” he said with feeling. “Our first interviewee didn’t show, and we were afraid that after Don was arrested people might not come.”
“It’s horrible, isn’t it!” Ginger said emphatically as she sat down in the chair. “I was at the banquet with Stacey Ballentine; she’s the newest Eden girl. She wasn’t in Babes, but Don had promised her a starring role in the sequel. Anyway, I still can’t believe what happened. I spilled wine all over my dress when Lanie screamed.” She spoke breathlessly, as if reporting the latest gossip from her high school. “Hey, didn’t I see you guys there too?”
“We were there,” Stanley confirmed. “I’m an old friend of Don’s from college.” He looked at Angela. “It’s hard to believe what happened.”
“Me too! I’ve done a couple of videos for Don, and he was about the nicest guy in the business. Never broke his word to anybody. Stacey couldn’t believe it either.” She took a piece of chewing gum out of her back pocket and popped it in her mouth. The gesture made her look even younger. “Love can make people do pretty crazy things though.”
“Love?”
“Yeah, didn’t you know? Don had the hots for Jade, but she wouldn’t give him the time of day.” She blew a small bubble and continued. “Not that she went out with anybody else either. That was part of her mystique, I guess. Biggest bitch in the business. She had no boyfriends or girlfriends; she stayed totally away from everybody. But put her on camera and holy shit! Directors used to tell her to stare straight into the camera during a scene. That’s usually a no-no, but she’d just look through the lens and send this please do me message straight to the dude watching the movie on his sofa.”
“Are you sure Don was that interested in her?”
“He was totally obsessed with her. It must have been hard for him in the editing room, watching her eyes roll back in her head while somebody else fucked her.” She shrugged her shoulders. “On the other hand, you better get used to it if you’re going to fall in love with a porn star.”
He nodded at Ginger and then looked over at his wife. “Why don’t we get started?”
* * *
INTERVIEWER: Could you tell us your age and place of birth?
SUBJECT: I’m nineteen and I was born in Whittier, California.
INTERVIEWER: Have the events at the Eden party made you rethink your present career?
SUBJECT: Wow . . . I don’t think so. I mean, bad things happen in almost every kind of job. Even the post office isn’t safe! I’m still more worried about AIDS and stuff like that.
INTERVIEWER: Have you ever seen other instances of violence?
SUBJECT: Related to work?
INTERVIEWER: Yes.
SUBJECT: Not really. Unless you want to count jealous boyfriends as part of work. In that case, I’ve seen some pretty ugly scenes. You’d be amazed how many guys will date a porn star knowing what she does for a living and then at some point turn around and accuse her of being a whore because she’s doing a scene and looking like she’s enjoying it too much.
INTERVIEWER: And what happens when a guy can’t handle it?
SUBJECT: Well, they usually make your life miserable until they finally pack up and leave, but sometimes you’ll see girls show up on the set with a black eye. Then the shit hits the fan. It makes the video look bad.
INTERVIEWER: We had someone yesterday who insisted that some directors threaten physical violence to get their actresses to perform. Have you seen this?
SUBJECT: [laughs] You need to go down to Olde World Modeling when they’re having a casting call. When you’ve got that many girls showing up and begging for parts, why the hell would you need to threaten someone?
INTERVIEWER: Have you ever done something that you didn’t want to do?
SUBJECT: Sure. Last week, I was giving Stiff Masterson a blow job in Win One for the Stiffer, and he’s getting all hot and sweaty from the lights and about every thirty seconds I’m getting hit with a drop of sweat off his gross hairy chest right on my face. I’m telling you, it w
as like Chinese water torture, but he’s getting ready to pop, so I don’t want to break off the scene. It’s times like that when I start wondering whether I should go to junior college.
INTERVIEWER: What kind of other jobs have you had?
SUBJECT: I was working at a department store at the mall when I started doing videos. I used to work at Burger King in high school. Talk about gross! There was plenty of stuff I didn’t want to do there either.
* * *
When Ginger left, Stanley consulted the interview schedule while Angela opened up a bottle of spring water. The interview had gone well. Ginger seemed to be one of a new breed of starlets heralded by the acceptance of the Paris Hilton and Pamela Anderson home sex videos. Beneath her bubbly surface was a businesswoman who balanced the costs and benefits of choosing pornography as her profession. He read the next name on the schedule and tossed the paper over to Angela.
“It looks like we’ve got some time this afternoon to go to the police station, flash your ID and make a statement if you need to.” Angela had forgotten to put her driver’s license in the clutch she had taken to the banquet and had been put on the police list of people who needed to report in.
“How come?” She put down her water and read from the page. “Two o’clock, Jade Delilah, Eden Studio.” She clicked the memory card out of the recorder and stood up. “And I thought this was going to be a vacation. Let’s find some food first and get this over with.”
While she eased into the drive-thru lane at Taco Tico, he looked at the station address on the card that the police officer had given him and entered it into his wife’s smart phone. He stubbornly clung to his old style cell, but he had to admit that some of the apps on his wife’s new device were pretty helpful. If the battery lasted longer than twelve hours without recharging, he might be tempted to switch.
He leaned over his wife and told a large plastic head wearing a sombrero that he wanted a quesadilla and a coke. He checked his phone messages, and she grabbed a bag from the take-out window and pulled over into an empty parking space next to the restaurant. She handed Stanley his meal and took a sip from her diet soda.