Madonna

by J. Randy Taraborrelli

  The contents of Sex, when finally published, consisted of visual and verbal essays by Madonna (as herself but also in the role of a character named Dita, borrowed from screen goddess Dita Parlo of the thirties) regarding her personal, sexual fantasies — or, at least, what she wanted the public to believe were her sexual fantasies. “This book does not condone unsafe sex,” she hastened to add in one of her missives to the reader. “These are fantasies I have dreamed up. Like most human beings, when I let my mind wander, I rarely think of condoms.”

  Photographed beautifully in black and white by Steven Meisel — who has photographed her throughout much of her career — Madonna was seen hitchhiking in the nude, posing lasciviously while clad in leather S&M outfits, brutally dominating a pair of butch lesbians, happily sucking somebody’s toe, brazenly shaving someone else’s pubic area, receiving oral sex from a biker, being viciously raped by skin-heads (while dressed as a schoolgirl). She is at least partially nude in most of the photographs, and completely nude in many of them. In one, she is posed in a sexually suggestive position with a dog. “It turned out to be a lot more salacious, I think, than what I would have wanted to publish,” says Judith Regan. “She went over the top with it. I wanted it to be imaginative, erotic . . . but not quite so prurient.”

  Indeed, much of the book reads like a letter to a pornographic magazine: “I love my pussy, it is the complete summation of my life,” Madonna wrote. “My pussy is the temple of learning.” A lot of attention is also paid to the joy of anal sex, “the most pleasurable way to [have sex], and it hurts the most, too.” Many graphic paragraphs are devoted to the ways she enjoys making love, each position described in vivid detail, a great deal of it having to do with sadomasochism. She also waxes rhapsodic about the first time she masturbated.

  Much of Sex is surprising, if not shocking. Rather than an “adult” book, it is really childish and impetuous. Though Madonna insisted that she was trying to demystify sexuality in all its many faces, knowing who she was and how she operated made it clear to any keen observer that what she was really just trying to get away with was as much naughty-girl text and as many pornographic photographs as she could get away with because . . . well, because she could get away with it. She was being a brat, not a revolutionary. That much is clear if one reads between the lines in an interview she gave to MTV in 1998. “I thought, ‘You know what, I’m going to be sexually provocative, I’m going to be ironic, and I’m going to prove that I can get everybody’s attention and that everyone’s going to be interested in it . . . and still be freaked out about it.’” One might ask: Why? Hadn’t she already proved her ability to be sexually provocative, ironic and attention-getting?

  Those who knew Madonna well knew what was really going on with her at this time: the Sex book — and the outrageous antics that preceded it and would follow it — was really just something she used as a barrier between her and the rest of the world.

  For years, it had seemed to Madonna that every moment of her life had been exposed to the world, her every word and mood flashed across the newspapers for comment, often biting and critical. She felt hunted, even though it was she who had started the hunt. By her own doing, she had become one of the most watched and most criticized women in the world. She had never let her public down, always at the ready with a provocative comment, a salacious anecdote, a shocking photograph. Now, because she was just who she had created, she was having trouble relating to “normal” people. She felt that they didn’t understand her. And she certainly didn’t understand them. She seemed to have lost herself somewhere in all the headlines. Terrible isolation was her ironic fate, isolation that came from being such a sensational public figure. Her relationships with men had been abysmal. Was some of that also due to her fame?

  To prevent herself from having to be a part of the masses, either consciously or subconsciously — and only she would know which — Madonna created a persona that no one could begin to understand . . . one so outrageous as to defy explanation, one found objectionable by most people (at least those who were not pornographers). “She was losing touch,” said one of her public relations handlers. “The barrier she put up between herself and the rest of the world was the notion of crazy, wild sex — pure and simple — and trashy and controversial sex.”

  Most mental health professionals are of the opinion that, in the human condition, there are two ways of being antisocial. In a man it can take the form of aggressive, hostile behavior. In a woman it can be presented as being sexually provocative and outrageous. In other words, when little boys are angry, they have fights. When little girls are angry, they show their panties. Some of us don’t grow out of that behavior; it would seem that Madonna was “showing her panties” just because she was vexed by the intense scrutiny her personal life had generated over the years. In her view, she had no other way of fighting back.

  Tony Ward, Naomi Campbell, Isabella Rosellini and rappers Big Daddy Kane and Vanilla Ice all made guest appearances in the Sex book in photographs which showed them in various stages of undress.

  The photographs were taken during the eight-month period during which Madonna and Vanilla Ice (real name Rob Van Winkle) were romantically involved. Ice, whose song “Ice Ice Baby” was, in 1990, the first rap song to top the Billboard charts, says that the relationship with Madonna was difficult, “because she would change personalities a lot.” He also says that he now regrets having posed with her for the book. “It kind of cheeses me out,” he says. “It makes me look like I’m like all the other people in there, a bunch of freaks. I’m no freak.”

  Also prominently featured was Madonna’s friend Ingrid Casares, who would later complain that her participation in the project would fuel years of far-fetched gossip about her own sex life. “I’m actually quite conservative,” Casares states flatly. Casares and Madonna were photographed in male drag, kissing passionately.

  Though initial fascination for the book pushed it to Number on The New York Times best-seller list, the reviews were generally negative. Richard Harrington of the Washington Post called it “an oversized, overpriced coffee-table book of hard-core sexual fantasies sure to separate the wanna-bes from the wanna-be-far-aways. Is Sex shocking? Not really. Mostly because it’s Madonna, and in a way we’ve come to expect this from her. Is Sex boring? Actually, yes.”

  With all the sexual posturing, it was ironic that in the summer of 1992 Madonna was seen in Penny Marshall’s light comedy romp, A League of Their Own, about a women’s baseball league in 1943. As part of an all-star cast including Geena Davis, Tom Hanks and Rosie O’Donnell, Madonna would again not have the burden of carrying an entire film on her shoulders. The movie was top-grossing in the summer of 1992, an added bonus for Madonna’s acting résumé — though she was only fair in the role and most don’t consider it memorable. However, any observer who thought that the movie would mark the emergence of a tamer Madonna knew he was wrong as soon as Sex was published. (Prior to this film, she was seen making a brief appearance in Woody Allen’s black comedy, Shadows and Fog, a box-office failure that quickly disappeared from cinemas.)

  Erotica

  To tie in with the publication of Sex, Madonna released a new album, aptly entitled Erotica.

  It is unfortunate that Erotica has to be historically linked to other less memorable ventures in Madonna’s career at this time because, unlike Truth or Dare and Sex, Erotica actually had much to recommend it. It was just that, coming on the heels of the two previous projects, Erotica seemed like more of the same to most observers. However, this record should be considered on its own merits, and not only as one linked to the other two adult-oriented projects, because it does have true value.

  Madonna has often said that in her view — one shared by many cultural historians — one reason pop music is so powerful in society is because it often serves as a mirror of our culture. If one wants to know what’s going on in the world, perusing the Billboard Top 40 might be a good place to start. While newspapers inform on a daily
basis, pop music, at least on some levels, can render the big picture. For instance, one might not find any songs about peace, love or changing society in the Top 40; if so, their absence speaks volumes. It could mean that society is looking the other way at the moment, that it would rather trade its woes for a pretty pop ditty about good times and romance. Apathy and hopefulness, optimism and good cheer — wherever pop culture is at the moment, so, usually, is its music.

  It is clear that few singers have their fingers on the pulse of society like Madonna, more so than Michael Jackson (who spends too much time in his own environment to be in touch), or Prince (who appears too self-obsessed to pay attention to anything else). Madonna’s instincts have her plugged into life.

  At the time of Erotica’s release in October 1992, much of society seemed to be reexamining its sexuality. Gay rights issues were at the forefront of social discussions globally, as was an ever-increasing awareness of AIDS. A generation seemed increasingly curious to explore, without guilt, shame or apology, a different slice of life, something more provocative, maybe darker . . . which involves the themes of Erotica. A concept album of sorts, its music boldly and openly focused on sexuality more so than any previous Madonna album. Erotica wasn’t just about boy meets girl, birds and bees. Madonna had already effectively spoken about those innocent notions with such pop songs as the bubbly “Cherish” and the earnest “Open Your Heart.” Erotica was deeper, franker and edgier. Somehow, Madonna knew that the timing was perfect for an album of such expression. (She also believed, apparently, that it was time for a book that would address these issues — thus her Sex book. However, while it’s a good experience to hear Madonna’s take on sexuality, it is a bad one to see it, page after page after page.)

  Erotica wasn’t a complete surprise to anyone who had been paying attention to Madonna’s recent music. She had shown her hand earlier with Breathless when she sang “Hanky Panky,” the song about spanking, with just a little too much authority. Then there was her single “Justify My Love,” a beyond-naughty bit of sexy business. Erotica, though, was the full-blown musical exploration, an exhibition, of what we were to believe was Madonna’s sexual reality.

  For this album, Madonna again turned to producer/writer Shep Pettibone, with whom she had written and produced “Vogue.” After having to work within the musical constraints of Breathless, Madonna wanted to do a clear and obvious dance record; Pettibone was proficient in this genre. Indeed, judging by the music they’ve created together, it would be safe to say that Pettibone is by far her best dance-music collaborator. After he laid down the musical tracks, Madonna would shape the vocal melodies and write the lyrics. Often (as on Erotica), she has ideas for the music tracks, as well; she’s that versatile. They work well together, mostly because he understands her. “She’s the opposite of calm,” says Pettibone. “Her patience level is incredibly low, so you have to make things run smoothly. It’s better to bring out the angel in her, because the beast ain’t that much fun.”

  One didn’t really need to hear the music to understand Madonna’s intention with Erotica. If the title itself wasn’t a tip-off, the CD’s cover artwork certainly made the point clear. In pictures lifted from Sex, one photograph shows Madonna in S&M garb, toying with a riding crop and licking her arm; in another shot, she sits bound and gagged. The back cover features Madonna engaged in “foot worship” — blissfully sucking on someone’s big toe. But for her Sex book, her public would have been surprised by the poses; on the heels of that published work, however, these photographs now seemed redundant.

  The title track, also the first single to be released, consisted of an irresistible house-music beat, over which Madonna, in her “Mistress Dita” persona, spoke in a hypnotic, orgasmic style about the correlation between pain and pleasure and how it relates to sex. The spoken lyrics are separated by the hypnotic, teasing chorus, “Erotic, erotic, put your hands all over my body.” The song could easily have been the theme to a Fellini film.

  The “Erotica” video was quickly put into “heavy rotation” by MTV . . . after midnight, of course, to protect the kiddies. On the screen, Madonna appears as a masked dominatrix, complete with a gold tooth and slicked-down hair. She tongue-kisses a girl and does her S&M shtick, but it is too quickly edited to be really revealing. The video seems to be more about creating a montage of images designed to shock. Looking incongruous in leather and sunglasses, the usually clean-cut MTV announcer Kurt Loder tantalizingly explained that, “Some people have no objection to such role-playing games as long as they’re consensual. Others find such practices repellent, which is why MTV is not airing this video in regular daytime or evening rotation.”

  Wrote columnist Molly Ivins, “You could tell you’re out of touch with your fellow Americans when the reigning sex goddess is someone you wouldn’t take home if she were the last woman left in the bar.”

  This time, a tamer Madonna did not act as if she objected to MTV’s restriction of air time for her video. “MTV plays to a huge audience and a lot of them are children,” she said in an interview on that cable network. “And a lot of the themes explored in my video aren’t meant for children, so I understand why they can’t show it.”

  True to course, Madonna’s public was all the more fascinated by the song and video thanks to the controversy. It reached Number on the Billboard singles chart.

  “Deeper and Deeper,” the second single from Erotica was a change of pace from the title track. A straight-ahead house groove in the tradition of the funkiest New York clubs, the track had Madonna singing mainstream lyrics about falling hard for a lover. It worked its way up to Number 7 on the chart.

  Erotica could have been ahead of its time. Madonna’s song “Secret Garden,” with its lyrics spoken over a jazz combo, is akin to the cool soul music acts such as the Roots and Erykah Badu would champion almost a decade later, under the banner of “neo-soul.” Musically, Erotica was actually a melting pot of nineties urban music — burgeoning hiphop and house, partnered with a more conventional synthesizer-based rhythm and blues. Madonna’s most sexually promiscuous record was also her most R&B sounding.

  However, it was the spectacle of the artist’s sexuality on parade that seemed to have her fans and critics alike gasping for breath. Erotica was the first (and, so far, only) Madonna CD to carry a warning on its cover: “Parental Advisory: Explicit Lyrics.” Obviously, Madonna didn’t invent the images of S&M and bondage she so valiantly exploited, but it could be argued that Erotica was a soundtrack for the era’s sexual liberation as people struggled to still find ways to enjoy their sexuality despite the threat of AIDS. Unlike her book, this music was an art form of which her public would not tire . . . and to which it could repeatedly return for entertainment. However, true to the nature of her self-inflicted career slide at this time, Erotica would become the least commercially successful of Madonna’s releases, selling just over two million copies.

  “Most people want to hear me say I regret putting out my Sex book. I don’t,” Madonna told Time magazine a couple of years later. “What was problematic was putting out my Erotica album at the same time. I love that record, and it was overlooked. Everything I did for the next three years was dwarfed by my book.”

  Bad Career Moves

  By the end of 1992, many of her fans, as well as critics, were asking if Madonna had gone too far. The release of the Truth or Dare film, the Sex book and the Erotica album and video served to answer that question for some with a resounding “Yes!” (Truth or Dare grossed only $15 million in the United States. As its executive producer, Madonna invested $4 million into the movie, so she did recoup her investment. However, after expenses, the film was not nearly as profitable as she had hoped.)

  Who was this woman, anyway? Was she a sexual renegade, or just a spoiled and internationally known brat who liked to take off her clothes and talk dirty? No one could answer the question with much accuracy, she had so clouded her true identity with scandal and sensationalism. Even when she tried to explain her
self (“I love my pussy, and there’s nothing wrong with loving my pussy”) she sounded like a lusty porn star no one could take seriously.

  “After the Sex book came out,” she has recalled, “there was a time when I could not open up a newspaper or magazine and not read something incredibly scathing about myself.”

  Had she foreseen the negative publicity that would be generated by Truth or Dare, Sex and Erotica, Madonna might have chosen a different direction for her next film, perhaps continuing with light family-oriented movies like A League of Their Own. Instead, she chose a lurid thriller, Body of Evidence, as her next movie release — the final of the four unwitting steps in the dismantling of her career.

  In the movie, which premiered on the heels of Sex in January 1993, Madonna plays Rebecca Carlson, a gallery owner accused of murdering a wealthy older man when he dies after having sex with her (raising the perplexing question of whether or not a sex partner’s body can be considered a lethal weapon if the act results in a person’s death). She ends up becoming sexually involved with her defense attorney, played by Willem Dafoe.

  At the end of the movie, Madonna’s character is murdered, causing some disgusted moviegoers to cheer at her demise. “She’s a powerful lady,” says the film’s director, Uli Edel, of Madonna. “Sometimes you feel like a tamer with a she-lion in a cage. You have to force her to jump through this burning hoop, and there are just two possibilities. Either she’ll jump through the ring of fire . . . or she’ll kill you.”

  “In all the movies of the forties, the bad girl has to die,” Madonna has said. “What I originally loved about the role [in the first script] was that she didn’t die. And in the end, they killed me. So I felt that I was sabotaged to a certain extent. For some reason, when that movie came out, I was held responsible for it entirely. It was my fault, which was absurd, because we all make bad movies. I mean Diabolique came out [in 1996] and Sharon Stone was not held responsible for the fact that it was a crap movie.”