“Backdoor to Chyna” renews my hope for the celebrity sex tape
Because I have successfully transcended fitness and exist as a sentient liquid (I come in a sprinkler), I was unaware of the fame of fitness model/WWF character Chyna. But I knew she was famous because her movie is in Vivid’s Celeb line. Unlike a lot of the subjects of sex tapes lately, however, Chyna should be famous.
Watching a celebrity sex tape is often disappointing. If you don’t know the celebrity, you wonder who this amateur is cluttering up your pornography. Ditto, more than not, a celebrity you know. But Chyna is so self-assured and non self-conscious that she reminded me of Kelli McCarty, the former Miss USA who was fantastic in Vivid’s “Faithless.”
Chyna, originally from upstate New York, explains to director B. Skow (against a backdrop in which the Hollywood sign is obscured, for some reason), that she was a gym groupie from way back, and through her nascent enthusiasm for wrestling, was hired on by the WWF as a “Killer Assassin Girl.”
[UPDATE: Lifelong SoCal resident and cultural theorist Tod Hunter hips me to why litigation-savvy Vivid chose to obscure the Hollywood sign
Tod writes (and cites):
I detect the gnarled claw of finally-dead malignant SOB Johnny Grant in this statement from the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce:
Do I Need Permission?
If you are an amateur photobug or videographer shooting only for your own
personal use, then there is no need to seek permission before aiming your lens
at the Sign. But if the images or footage you are taking are intended for any
sort of commercial purpose, then permission is required.
You can read the whole thing here:
(I like how they capitalize “the Sign,” as if it is Jesus.)
Because celebrity sex tapes come with their own lowered expectations, it’s important to point out that Chyna goes for the gold in this movie. At 40 (the movie was shot last year), Chyna is no winsome slip of a thing, finger-biting and coy, but instead a take-charge cougar who looks really good doing (and being done by) her costars. She doesn’t sit back and masturbate with dainty toys, or even work only with women (Dayna Vendetta, Dylan Ryder, and Diana Prince, all strong performers on their own, back her up nicely), but she hooks up with the nest male talent in the business as well.
It is as if Chyna is thinking that if she’s going to jump into porn, she might as well go all the way.
The movie is shot and edited to reflect the greater attention its star should receive; the music is exhilarating and, but for all the labia on display, “Backdoor to Chyna” would be at home on Spike or ESPN.
You did it this time, Vivid. Let us never hear from you of Casey Anthony or Octomom again.
Buy “Backdoor to Chyna” here