Book Review: PORNLAND by Gail Dines. A Tragical Mystery Tour Through Porn Hell

PORNLAND How Porn Has Hijacked Our Sexuality by Gail Dines is a well-written examination of Internet porn that is both educational and alarming.  What Dines describes in grisly detail are sexual aberrations that most of us couldn’t imagine.

The book is well-researched and impeccably footnoted.  As a professor of sociology and women’s studies, Dines has examined porn for over 20 years.

Her main concern is that Internet pornography has jaded our nation’s men. According to Dines, young boys are “catapulted into a never-ending universe of ravaged anuses, distended vaginas and semen-smeared faces.”  “When men turn to porn to experience sexual arousal and orgasm, they come away with a lot more than just an ejaculation because the stories seep into the very core of their sexual identity.”

So, how did this sordid state of affairs come about? Dines gives a step-by-step progression.  The following, in order of appearance, are the items she tackles.

Dines begins by pointing to those ancient skin-mags Playboy, Penthouse and Hustler. She states that these relatively innocuous (compared to the stomach-churning stuff she describes later in PORNLAND) publications opened the floodgates to the tidal wave of smut that she says we are now drowning in.

Regarding Playboy, Dines passes along significant information about 83-year-old Hugh Hefner’s sex life: “…Hefner would have unprotected sex with a number of women, one after another, but regardless of how many women he penetrated, he could orgasm only by masturbating to pornography.”  (Hey, Gail, give the guy a break.  He’s 83!) Her reason for including this intimate detail, I believe, is to augment her description of how porn has affected men.

She laments “reality” shows such as Girls Gone Wild that further the “porning of our culture.”  Dines writes  “…the young woman’s behavior is frozen in time on tape; they can’t take it back, hide it or deny that they did it.” “Ellen started college with the hope of being a business major but after the tape of her having sex with her friend was shown at a frat party during the first semester, she dropped out of school…Tricia told me that ‘my life will never be the same.  I had so many plans and look at me now, a dropout with no future.'” (I feel that Dines should place more blame on our judgmental society for saddling these young women with such opprobrium.  But saying that might run counter to her theme of how our culture blithely accepts porn’s leadership in creating sexual “new normals.”)

As an example of porn’s degradation of its actresses, Dines offers up Jenna Jameson.  This porn queen is introduced with an anonymous blog post as having breasts “‘scarred from having her breast implants removed…her face looks like it collapsed…It’s a good thing she retired because this is one old slut that needs to be put down.'”  After that opening, PORNLAND recounts Jameson being gang-raped as a teenager and being so desperate to land her first gig that she “removed her braces with a pair of pliers.”

Dines says, “Before Jameson there was no woman in porn who had a lifestyle that was in any way desirable.”

Has this author who has studied porn so closely never heard of Nina Hartley?  Nina’s lifestyle, while unconventional (having both a husband and a wife), was–and presumably still is–happy and…desirable.  (Neglecting to mention Hartley in a book covering porn is like writing about 1920s baseball and leaving out Babe Ruth.)

Though Dines has studied modern porn intensely, her knowledge of porn’s distant history might be lacking: In addition to neglecting to mention Nina Hartley, she states that The Devil in Miss Jones was directed by Greg Dark (DMJ was directed by Gerard Damiano, who also helmed Deep Throat).

Supporting her claim that mainstream television celebrates porn, Dines laments that on Rita Crosby: Live and Direct, where she appeared with Vivid Entertainment’s Steve Hirsch, he got 50 minutes, while she only got 10. (The reason, of course, is that Vivid is a big-time player in porn. She isn’t.)

Dines decries porn’s widening influence by listing companies that, she claims, are mainstreaming porn.  Among them are media giants Time Warner Cable, Cox Communications, Comcast, DirecTV and Rupert Murdoch’s EchoStar Communications Corporation.  She lists the hotel chains Holiday Inn, Marriot, Hilton, Sheraton, Radisson, and Hyatt.  Her list of smut supporters even includes Microsoft.

In the second half of PORNLAND, Dines carves into the real meat (sorry) of the book when she details that outer limit of Internet porn known as “gonzo (wall-to-wall sex, no story).”

(I’ll admit I wasn’t up to date on gonzo. SKINFLICKS describes the porn world circa 1970-1999.  Beyond that era, I haven’t kept up. [Nothing makes you tire of porn faster than shooting it.]  For a retired old-time producer like me, PORNLAND provided an education–and a Cook’s tour for perverts seeking the grossest stuff imaginable.)

It’s no surprise that weirdos wield websites.  For small investments, slavering psychopaths worldwide can put their fevered fantasies out there, safe from American prosecutors who can’t reach them. (As First Amendment attorney Clyde DeWitt said, “Technology is the worst enemy of the censor.”)

In examining the most degrading of these sites, Dines inevitably falls into the conundrum that most anti-porn scribes do: giving these “entrepreneurs” free advertising, such as…

Defloration.com. proves that their girls are real virgins by “stretching open a vagina so the user can get a clear view of the internal genitalia, which depicts, the site claims, an ‘intact hymen.'”  This tissue is then “‘stretched and ruptured by an erect penis…$38 a month…”

She blames the 2002 Supreme Court decision allowing women over 18 to portray teens under that age for precipitating a rash of PCP (Pseudo Child Porn) sites like ultrateenlist.com., a website that features “Pissing Teens, Drunk Teens, Teen Anal Sluts, Asian Teens…”  Dines also provides graphic descriptions of such sites as SoloTeenGirls.net, MySexyDaughter.com and TeenDirtBags.com.

Reviewing the Internet-taught techniques of seducing young girls, the author turns to one of her favorite villains: sadistic producer/actor Max Hardcore.  Dines describes how, in Cherry Poppers, volume 10, Hardcore, who spent two years in prison for his rough-sex videos, “seasons” a young girl.  Dines includes the testimony of FBI child porn expert Ken Lanning, who vouches for the accuracy of Hardcore’s methods. Dines adds “…and man [sic] watching him may find pointers on how to season a child.”

When Dines confronts the dichotomy of men who desire sex only with adult women, yet are attracted to child porn, this social scientist is at her best.  She accurately describes the process of desensitization: the rapidly developing boredom that forces the pornophile to seek ever more bizarre thrills.  (In SKINFLICKS, I quote UCLA psychologist Neil Malamuth who said “Our research shows that every time there is a satiation of themes, people to some degree lose their ability to be aroused by it.  Therefore, newer themes are introduced, breaking new taboos.”)

As bored viewers become disgusted with the phony moans and fake orgasms of professional porn stars, they yearn to see women in the throes of real emotions.  And nothing is more real than pain.

Here, PORNLAND dives into the sewers of sleaze. The examples below include text from their websites.

  • assplundering.com: “‘bitches wouldn’t be able to walk for a week after the utter anal demolishing.'”
  • ghettogaggers.com: (Two white men rape a black woman.) “‘…we destroy ghetto hoes, and it be showin’ like a mutha fukka!'”
  • britishbukkakebabes.com: (In bukkake porn, a group of men ejaculate on a woman’s face. Though it seems legally daring, this genre of porn was actually created to conform to Japanese law, which forbade showing genital penetration.)  “‘…you’re guaranteed to get off when you see their dripping faces full of cum.'”
  • gagmethenfuckme.com: “‘We make them gag till their makeup starts running, and then they get all other holes sore–vaginal, anal, double penetrations, anything brutal involving a cock and an orifice.'”

Having seen “many Max Hardcore movies,” Dines presents the gloating sadist’s boast: “‘I also created the technique of cuming in a girl’s ass, having her squeeze it out into a glass, and then chuck the load down…I started pissing down their throats several times during a scene, often causing them to vomit uncontrollably while still reaming their throats.'”

Ye gods. And Dines makes a living studying this stuff.  (I hope she doesn’t become like Sargent Lloyd Martin of the LAPD Administrative Vice detail who became so obsessed with child porn that he kept a garage filled with it–just to show people how evil it was. As related in SKINFLICKS, the LAPD eventually fired him.)

Perhaps Dines’ ongoing studies of gonzo porn influenced her writing style. Here’s how she describes Caucasian male fans of the popular genre of black men screwing white women: “As the white man unzips, he steps out of the socially constructed cage of whiteness and into a thoroughly debauched world of huge, semen-filled black penises out to rip, tear, pummel, and hammer white women into the utter subordination of becoming a fuckee.”

Then there’s Dines’ correlating the film King Kong with the white man’s myth of black sexuality, calling the movie, “…the most dramatic rendering of black masculinity that this country had ever seen…”

Gosh. When I saw King Kong as a kid, I thought he was just an over-sized ape.

I would venture to say that when you study extremes of pornography for years on end, you begin to see its influence everywhere.  You become like someone who buys a yellow VW Cabriolet and suddenly starts noticing all these yellow VW Cabriolets on the road.

Dines writes,“We are so steeped in the pornographic mindset that it is difficult to imagine what a world without porn would look like.  It is affecting our girls and boys, as both are growing up with porn encoded into their gender and sexual identities.”

As examples of porn’s influence, Dines writes, “Whether it be thongs peeping out of low-slung jeans, revealing their ‘tramp stamp (a lower back tattoo just above the butt crack),’ their waxed pubic area, or their desire to give the best blow job ever to the latest hookup, young women and girls, it seems, are increasingly celebrating their ’empowering’ sexual freedom by trying to look and act the part of a porn star.”

I disagree.  I think they’re just expressing themselves as sexual beings.  We’ve come a long way from the Hays Office prudery that ruled Hollywood from 1930 to the mid-’60s.  And rightly so.

But Dines is correct about the need to somehow regulate the most extreme elements of the Internet. Left totally unchecked, the final step in pornographers’ race to be the most outre would be to emulate the Roman Coliseum and toss maidens to lions.

So, ultimately, what does Dines recommend?  She’s too savvy to slide down the Dworkin/MacKinnon slope of trying to ban pornography.  Instead, she invites readers to access her website stoppornculture.org, where two slide shows can be obtained for free.  Her aim is to unite people in a grassroots movement to battle porn’s excesses.

In the book’s concluding paragraph, Dines writes, “As long as we have porn, we will never be seen as full human beings deserving of all the rights that men have…in a just society, there is no room for porn.”

Hmm.  I Googled (or rather “Norton Safe Searched”) “Countries where women have the most equality.”  Answer: Iceland, Norway, Finland and Sweden.  (In Sweden, child porn was legal from 1971 to 1980.  Recently, a Swedish man was convicted of “aggravated child pornography [shackled children being raped].”  His sentence? Only one year in prison.)  In these Scandinavian countries, porn is freely available–though Iceland has a strong movement to ban the the most extreme “gonzos,” such as those described in PORNLAND.

Next, I Norton Safe Searched “Countries that stop Internet porn.” Answers: Bahrain, China, Iran, Kuwait, North Korea, Oman, Saudi Arabia, Qatar.   Hardly bastions of female equality.  And all pornography is illegal in Saudi Arabia, Iran and Pakistan.

Despite my differences with parts of PORNLAND, I believe that this is an important, educational and grimly entertaining book.  For anyone seeking an information-rich look at the “brave new world” of Internet pornography, without having to access its grand guignol of websites, I highly recommend PORNLAND: How Porn Has Hijacked Our Sexuality.

Next:  While doing my own research, I came across a strange fact. The European country with the highest rate of rape is Sweden.  That doesn’t sound like the Sweden I enjoyed visiting, where sexual freedom under the midnight sun kept Swedish men happy.  But there is a demographic development in Sweden that has become a growing crisis.

Next post: Sweden Raped

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Screwings: On-Screen and Off. When Porn Careers Clash

The all-time worst case of clashing porn careers has to be the tragic event that happened on the night of January 25, 1996.

From SKINFLICKS: The Inside Story of the X-Rated Video Industry:

For Randy Potes–AKA Cal Jammer–that stud image was everything. “Cal obsessed about his erections,” wrote AVN’s Gene Ross. “…he told me that after 20 years of living a wastrel’s existence, sex was about the only thing he had left going for him.” Able to perform 16 scenes in four days, the dislexic Potes wasn’t hired for his dialogue readings. Then, plagued by marital problems and that bane of porn stars, the IRS, Potes began failing. He fell into the funk of impotence anxiety, worsened by watching his estranged, actress wife Adrian continue her career in porn. With the O.J Simpson murder case as “inspiration,. Potes set out on the night of January 25, 1995, to murder her. Adrian locked herself in her bathroom, heard a “pop,” and emerged to find Potes lying on her lawn amidst his splattered brains.

Tensions between off-screen lovers who both have porn careers rarely reach the horror-show level of the Cal Jammer suicide.  At worst, they enter the realm of absurdity. (Note: Passages from SKINFLICKS are in italics.)

Matt Daniels couldn’t function for a doggie-style scene in Spinelli’s The Party, even though it was with his off-screen girlfriend, Heather Lere.  After she cussed him out in front of cast and crew, according to witnesses, the agitated actor slapped her butt and proceeded to–in Lere’s term–“spring board.”
     Whatever gets the juices flowing.

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Serena Blaquelord in SUBMISSION OF SERENA, a full-length version of the scene in BOUND

In my S and M video Bound, Jamie Gillis and Serena Blaquelord demonstrated their bizarre sex-style:

In a skit the couple had concocted themselves, he made her beg, lick his hands and feet, and crawl on hands and knees wearing a collar and chain. If she was slow to obey his commands, he’d strike her with his hand, a riding crop or a cat-o’-9-tails. It looked brutal, with Serena’s yelps and the cat landing in her face, but she said later, “Jamie’s never given me a bruise, ever.”

On the past Halloween, he’d tied her naked in a bay window of their Polk Street apartment, displayed to the crowd below. Even revelers as bizarre as San Francisco’s could only stare upward, open- mouthed. 

Serena and Jamie were strong performers and established stars. (Maybe that’s why they eventually went their separate ways.)  But what about when a porn star has a partner who also performs but is known to be a “weak model?”  That was the case when a beautiful woman I hired for a loop series insisted that she work with her boyfriend.

Buxom Desiree West, “the BlackPanther porn star (she really did belong to that radical political group),” had to suck her boyfriend Dashiell hard for every shot; he kept losing his erection. Better with punches than penis, he practiced Kung Fu during breaks.

Sucking Dashiell for the come shot, Desiree warned, “Better not let a drop of that shit land on my face.” (Maybe the implications in that warning were the reasons he practiced Kung Fu.)

“Take it on the tits, then.” I wanted to feature them anyway.
(Dashiell managed a “dribbler.”)

“He travels fastest who travels alone, and that goes double for she.”  –Florence King, Reflections in a Jaundiced Eye

Especially in the fast-paced porno business.

So, were there any porn performer partnerships that worked?

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Samantha Fox in my video production, SIZZLE WITH SAMANTHA

Yes. Bobby Astyr and the delightful Samantha Fox were a couple  from 1978 until Astyr’s death of lung cancer in 2002.  Bill Margold and his wife Drea were together from 1982 until their divorce in 1984.

 … in an Adam interview (1982), Margold said that he and his porn director wife Drea left the business on the movie set “and then we go home. Just as if we were working in K-Mart or Dunkin’ Donuts…You can only live in a fantasy land just so long before it starts driving you crazy.”

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Nina Hartley in my video E.X.

The best porn relationship I ever witnessed was that of Nina Hartley and her husband Dave, with whom she was mated for 20 years.  Their relationship was unusual in that Nina also had a wife.

Dave often accompanied her on shoots. He enjoyed watching Nina in action, and she enjoyed being watched by him. Their mutual “wife,” Bobby Lilly, heads the anti-censorship group, Californians Against Censorship Together (CAL-ACT).

Dave was not a performer, but I was glad to have him on the set when I cast Nina.  He was an able crew member whose upbeat energy was welcomed.

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Barbara Dare in E.X. (when she was still known as Kimberly Dare)

That supreme super-bitch, Barbara Dare, didn’t let a boyfriend get in her way.  Of course, it helped that she was a lesbian.

To these ladies, the malady of boyfriendinitis is irrelevant. “I don’t need men…” Dare told an interviewer from the lesbian magazine On Our Backs, “I need women.” They trade tales among themselves about seducing both the boyfriends of straight ladies and the girlfriends of screen studs.

Next:  The Rape Films of Porn’s Golden Age

 

 

 

Porn’s Boyfriends From Hell

Gayle Sterling had the attributes that were in great demand: shapely body, pretty face, easy-going demeanor, long flaxen hair, and a love of sex. She wasn’t hired more often because of “Dennis,” who usually accompanied her on shoots.

He wasn’t the helpful sort of on-set mate, like Nina Hartley’s husband Dave, who’d run errands, string cables or hold pussy lights. Dennis would sit there watching, with an aura of menace. During the Chocolate Cream shoot, he lit up a joint.

“I like smoke as much as anyone,” I said, “but I have a policy against drugs on my set.”

The tall, bellicose man glared at me. I stared right back. If there was to be a contest of wills on my production, I wasn’t about to come out second. After a few tense moments, he snuffed it out.

After we wrapped, I found out why Gayle hauled Dennis along like excess baggage. She motioned me to a stairwell, away from the crew packing up equipment. Like a cop about to frisk a suspect, Gayle leaned Dennis against the rail. Chattering about how well-hung he was, she unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants. I wondered what this was all about; Dennis didn’t work in porn movies.

Then I recalled how the couple had kept telling me about their exploits swinging with third parties–both male and female. Gayle alone I might have considered, but I wanted no part of this scene. To this couple, Gayle’s porn work was part of their elaborate fantasy life.

(Excerpts from SKINFLICKS, such as above, are in italics.)

Many a porn queen has found out the hard way that the worst thing in the world to have is a boyfriend.

A common phenomenon is the beautiful porn star, who could have her choice of gentle, caring men, yet sticks with a brutal boyfriend who beats her silly. (Example: Posche Lynn’s boyfriend who bashed her head open with a vase during an argument. Reportedly, they “patched” things up.)

Many, such as adult film historian Jim Holliday, cite low self-esteem among porn ladies. Declaring he’d no longer date sex pros after “more than half a decade of romantic frustration and grief”, Dave Patrick, editor of the Bay Area sex tabloid Spectator, quoted a rock musician who’d written in to agree with Patrick’s decision: “Strippers and porn stars are a lot like rock ’n’ roll groupies. More often than not, they come from similar backgrounds of sexual and emotional abuse. They don’t have much self-esteem. Treat ’em good and they’ll walk all over you; treat ’em like shit and they’ll worship the ground you walk on.”

At lunch one day, four of us were discussing the sobbing ladies who call (porn agent Jim) South to cancel appointments due to black eyes and chipped teeth. “They’re beautiful and they’ve always had men bust ass to do them favors,” said (porn director) Richard Mailer. “So they play ’em for chumps. They only respect the dude who treats them like dirt.”

“Maybe,” I conjectured, “They find it easy to leave the responsibility for their affairs in the hands of a guy who dominates them. When they step out of line, he clouts them to establish his control. Maybe they take that for love.”

South wisely refrained from offering his own theories. He had to deal with these ladies every day and didn’t want anything he said getting back to them. But the problem of the meddlesome mate was so common that South–and others–had a word for it: “boyfriendinitis.”

Next: The Curse of “Boyfriendinitis”

“You’re Going to Make a Lot of Money with This Book” Yeah, right…

People who read early drafts of SKINFLICKS told me I was going to make a lot of money with the book. And at first it looked like they were right.

SKINFLICKS: The Inside Story of the X-Rated Video Industry had a great start: a publishing contract and a $7,000 advance from Zebra Books. Maybe this was the start of something big.  And why not?  After all, SKINFLICKS chronicled a revolution in the porn movie business in which yuppies replaced gangsters, porn queens became corporations, porn became suburbanized, and the U.S Government declared a massive “War on Porn” that threatened even R-rated movies with prosecution.

I was qualified to describe this revolution because I helped lead it.  After learning the business as a filmmaker for “the biggest Mafia porn outfit on the West Coast (FBI quote),” I launched Superior Video, Inc. and pioneered the first full-length X-rated movies shot entirely on videotape.  My story entwined with that of the porn video industry.  As the documentary filmmaker Alberto Cavalcante wrote, “To make a film about the post office, make a film about a letter.”  In SKINFLICKS, I became the letter.

When I first entered the porn business, I began an audio cassette journal with the goal of someday writing about my experiences.  By the time I sold the rights to Superior Video’s movies, after 12 years in the industry, my audio journal had reached 347 cassettes.  I put my money into high-interest investments that would support me while I wrote.

After I sent out book proposals to those who had responded to my query letters, things happened fast. Within a couple of months, I had an agent who almost immediately landed the book contract.  I bought a Mac Quadra (1993 version) and happily plunged into stories of fast-track superstars, porno stage mothers, porn-addicted vice cops, burnt-out studs, obsessed fans, pompous porn barons and other denizens of this twilight world.  I wanted to answer the most frequent question asked about porn:  What are these performers really like? My answers came from casting them, bargaining with them and directing them.

In describing the sex action, I tried to avoid wallowing in graphic details, some of which—of course—were unavoidable.  Above all, I reminded myself that SKINFLICKS was not a pornographic book; it was a book about pornography.  I thought I did a good job of making the distinction.  So did the editor at Zebra Books, who examined every word.

When the galleys (review copies) came out, one went to Paul Fishbein, publisher of Adult Video News, the “bible of the porn video business.”   Fishbein called SKINFLICKS  the best and most realistic depiction of the modern world of pornography written in book form to date…”  (Later, the Internet created a whole new “modern world.”) Adult superstar Nina Hartley also read the manuscript and made suggestions.

Just as I was anticipating book tours, readings, book signings and maybe even an appearance on Oprah, the publisher dropped the book. Why? The reason—I learned—was a storm of bad publicity in the wake of Madonna’s book, Sex.  Publishers were afraid of anything remotely suggestive of pornography.  My agent, who had so quickly landed the Zebra Books contract, spent many months trying again to sell SKINFLICKS with no success.

At least I got to keep the advance.

Next Post:  From Porn Pioneer to POD Pioneer: When Authorhouse Was a Baby

 

 

My Worst Porn Directing Experience: Barbara Dare

Barbara Dare came running down the sidewalk barefooted, a spike-heeled pump in each hand.  “I wanna ride in the Corvette!”  As she fumbled with the shoes and the door handle, I realized that I’d been about to commit what any red-blooded American auto buff would consider an unnatural act: let one of the most beautiful women who ever bared all before a camera scrunch into a production assistant’s beat-up Falcon, loaded with reflectors and camera gear, instead of inviting her to settle into the black leather of my yellow Stingray.  But after a morning of non-stop friction with Dare on the set of E.X., I would’ve consigned her to ride in a garbage truck—and not in the cab section.  (Passages from SKINFLICKS are in italics.)

The auburn-curled beauty was not yet the sensation she would become in 1986, but already she acted the prima donna. “What girl ever works with three people in one day?” I rattled of a list of those who had, including Traci Lords. In response, Dare blurted, “But Traci likes fucking!” I knew then it would be a tough shoot.

A previous post related Rick Savage thanking Shanna McCullough for making his screen cherry scene so pleasurable that he continued his porn career. On the E.X. shoot, the opposite happened. Dare consented to a three-way with Billy Dee and a man making his porn debut, as long as everything with the new guy was simulated.  I agreed to her terms; new guys usually can’t get it up anyway.  But he surprised us, to Dare’s consternation. When he tried to touch her breasts, she pushed him away…After that debut, the new guy decided he didn’t really want a porn career after all.  His last words before leaving: “She thinks her shit don’t stink.”

New guy, Dare, Billy Dee. From E.X.

Dare’s refusal to follow any directions that weren’t yelled at her was giving me a headache.
Some pornographers like to act tough, to enforce their commands.  That wasn’t my style.  I sat staring into space, trying to make a decision.  I could either spend the rest of the shoot snarling and threatening to manhandle her, or I could cancel the shoot and pay everyone except Dare for a half-day.  She saw that I was at the breaking point.
Like most seasoned bitches, Dare knew when she’d pushed too far. “You don’t seem to like my New Jersey sense of humor,” she laughed.
“If New Jersey humor means making a complete cunt out of yourself, you’re right.”

That exchange marked a turning point: Dare lackadaisically  followed directions, and I decided to settle for her perfunctory performance. The next day’s E.X. finale—without Dare—went beautifully, and I appreciated even more the pleasure of working with those great ladies Lilly Marlene and Nina Hartley.

With her abrasive chutzpah, Barbara Dare attained porn success. She signed an exclusive with Select/Essex, claiming she got $10,000 for each of her movies. She maintained a six-figure annual income over her porn career,  making no more than a dozen movies a year and negotiating top dollar on the dance circuit.  She even managed to do some acting, winning the 1988 AVN Best Actress award.  Talk Radio monologist Eric Bogosian gushed, “Barbara  Dare, in her effusive, bubbling orgasmic womanhood is the purest antidote to pin-headed porn haters, Left and Right.”  Yes, she knew how to fool her fans.

Regardless of the demand for the actress, I told her agent Jim South, “Jim, if I ever shoot Barbara Dare again, it won’t be with a camera.”

Thanks, Will

Thanks Will (do you prefer Will or Willy?) for more kind words. I’m happy that you found SKINFLICKS to be “an incredible read about the business.”  And thank you for tweeting my blog to Nina Hartley, Tom Byron, Ron Jeremy and Cara Lott, all of whom I had found to be great people to work with.  I still haven’t found the correct way to make a reply to comments. My social network guru is due to visit on July 12, so then I’ll learn how to do it right.  Coincidently, my next blog entry will include Tom Byron and Cara Lott–and that industry disaster Traci Lords.  I hope to be able to post it tonight.  If not, it will have to await my guru on the 12th. 

Wishing you all the best,

Dave

FAVORITES WITH WHOM I HAVE WORKED: NINA HARTLEY

This is a blog category for stars I have photographed and/or directed, and also porn directors I have worked for. For each of these people, I will describe my experiences with them in the 70s and 80s, followed by an update.
Nina Hartley, 1980s. 
“That’s my butt!” the new lady announced to the audience admiring her race-horse rump, which filled the projection screen. “How do you like my butt?”
This was no shy ingénue, uneasy about the throng at Juliet Anderson’s premier party for Educating Nina staring into her body crevices.  The star of Juliet’s first effort as a producer was proud of her debut.  (Excerpt from SKINFLICKS: The Inside Story of the X-Rated Video Industry.)
Usually, you don’t put a fresh, new woman in a starring role. If the newcomer freezes up, thousands of dollars in production costs could be lost. Most porn actors—both male and female—start out in support roles, sometimes as “nude extras” who perform no actual sex.
But Juliet Anderson, the (late) sex superstar making her producer/director debut in 1984, felt that Nina Hartley was someone special.  At the time, we didn’t know just how special.
I was working as Juliet’s director of photography, fulfilling my part of a trade: In 1982, Juliet had directed my Superior Video, Inc., feature, Physical.  In return, I was to do camerawork for her in the future.  It wasn’t until two years later that Juliet secured the financing for Educating Nina.
That title was ironic:  Nina Hartley turned out to be the educator—the best educator ever to emerge from the sex film industry.  Like Annette Haven, the porn Hall-of-Famer whose career started in the early 70s, Nina used porn acting as a platform to express her views on sex and society.  Nina felt that American sexuality was sick, burdened with guilt, shame and persecution.  She wanted to change that; a Herculean task.   Like Haven, she decried the mating of sex with violence.  In our culture, the term “sex and violence” sounds almost like one word: sexandviolence.  Nina said, “I’d rather have my child watch someone making love, even if it’s a little mechanical, than watching a woman getting decapitated or mutilated.”
Nina had the credentials to teach; she was a registered nurse.  She proudly declared that she had both a husband and a wife. (Nina’s husband, Dave, was a great on-set crew member.)  She became the porn industry’s best spokesperson, appearing on talk shows and other forums, maintaining her dignity and humor while confronting the most virulent of anti-porn agitators.
Nina Hartley

Working on movies in which Nina Hartley appeared—including my own feature video E.X.–I found her to be one of the most upbeat and cheerful performers I’d ever seen, bantering easily with cast and crew.  She once arrived for her scene in a problem-plagued Anthony Spinelli production, and Spinelli’s wife, Roz, exclaimed—as if Nina were a good-luck charm, “Ah! Here she is! The most wonderful woman on this whole shoot has arrived!”

            “I’m not the most wonderful woman here,” Nina replied. “You are. But I’ll take second.”
Nina called herself “a sex industry worker.  I’m a feminist.  I enjoy my work and I don’t feel exploited.  A person who works in a bank and hates it is being exploited.  My job isn’t for everybody.  I’m a bisexual exhibitionist making a good living.”
UPDATE
Over the years (decades!), Nina Hartley has appeared in hundreds of movies, both porn and non-porn.  She has produced her own sex education shows.  Her world-wide fan following has only increased as she has grown older.
A year ago, Nina Hartley underwent surgery to remove a seven pound fibroid tumor (non-cancerous) from her uterus. I’m not surprised that she has recovered completely.  Nina has always been known to take care of her health. What does surprise me is a plea from “Lesley,” on GiveForward.com, for Nina’s fans to contribute funds to help cover the costs of her recovery. I’m glad that Nina’s fans came through. She deserves only the best.  I know she didn’t get into porn with the idea of getting rich, and I hope she is financially comfortable.
The porn industry may not be financially comfortable, especially if the new Los Angeles ordinance requiring porn performers to wear condoms is copied in other parts of the country to which porn production might flee.  Nina Hartley has raised her voice against the new law.  It has long been a truism in the porn industry that safe sex doesn’t sell.  Fans want to live their fantasies vicariously; they don’t want to be reminded of sexually transmitted diseases.  It will be interesting to see what will happen next in the world of porn production.