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Despite setbacks that would cripple other industries (how do you suppose multiple publicized STD-related shutdowns would affect, say, a dairy?), the American Porno-Industrial Complex had a banner year in 2013, as it began intelligently responding to its limitations of size and budget, making choices that reflected 2013 rather than a wishful-thinking 1998. And — unless you got an STD, too — everyone benefited.
Here are a dozen (well, more than a dozen, because decisions hurt our heads) of 2013’s contributions to porn at its most porntastic.
Consider the Internet’s massive database of fucking (including this site) and try to make sense of it. Even if fewer people are buying porn (except you and your friends, who are evolved), there’s no doubt that people are watching it and that other people are eager to produce it, even for free. But Dana Vespoli and Jacky St. James are two commercial porn directors who consistently bridge the gap between porn’s It Could Happen To You! fantasy element without skimping on our higher, darker, more wistful urges.
Dana Vespoli might get the edge here. Vespoli is in her 40s and came to directing from performing, which she continues to execute with a controlled abandon that barely keeps her in the frame. With her own imprint at Evil Angel, Vespoli has turned in a handful of personal, wicked (note, please, the small w), often-poignant movies that are transgressive for just those reasons; Vespoli isn’t afraid to say what turns her on, and she isn’t afraid to be vulnerable while she does it.
Check out the dirty/crazy/rapey “Descent,” the intimate “She’s Come Undone” (featuring performances by Sovereign Syre and Lea Lexis that will make fans out of you), and the gender-bendy (but not exclusionary) Jiz Lee/Manuel Ferrara duet “Girl Boy.”
If Vespoli thrives on a mind/vagina connection, Jacky St. James still thinks the heart has something to do with it. St. James is a quiet and confident master of the romance idiom, a director skilled at bringing Hollywood conciseness to movies that happen to be all about sex. It was another female director, Stormy Daniels, who first achieved success in boldly marrying Hollywood-style plots to porn (and Digital Playground has been doing this for years, too, but movies like “Code of Honor” strain credibility in a world where we increasingly expect our porn stars to be human), but St. James has a deft touch and a great eye for ensemble casting, getting wonderful performances out of thoughtful performers like Steven St. Croix, Remy La Croix, Xander Corvus, Raylene, India Summer, Anthony Rosano, Dana DeArmond, Alison Tyler, Alec Knight, Riley Reid, and Richie Calhoun, among many others. With her partner, director/cinematographer Eddie Powell, St. James has written and/or directed couples’ movies that respect the intelligence (and loins) of each member of the couple.
Watch “Incestuous” for St. James dipping her toe into more taboo territory, “Torn” for a reason to fall in love again (via fucking), and “The Friend Zone” and “Love, Marriage, And Other Bad Ideas” for the best evolutions of a Hollywood rom/com (via fucking).
“Game of Bones”
“I know what I’ve got to work with,” says director Lee Roy Myers of the decision to move his company, WoodRocket, to Las Vegas, away from an increasingly nuisance-lawsuit-prone Los Angeles. “And I take porn seriously, sure, but not so seriously that it stops being entertaining.”
It has been clinically proven that people will jerk off to anything, but whereas Axel Braun and company will try to pornily approximate “Avatar” and “Wolverine” (was that them? I think it was them) and thus reveal porn’s limitations, Myers has made a career of sending up porn itself, making the most of small budgets, concentrating on moments, and never, ever forgetting that ridiculousness can be the best foreplay.
Gamelink’s review of “Game of Bones” by pweasels:
There is not much to be said about “Game of Bones” beyond this: When Daeneris Targaryen – ably played by Annika Albrite – announces to Daario that she has dragons, the camera cuts to a shot of a clear blue sky with a couple of kittens playing in it. Later one of those kittens roars and breathes fire.
What could be more awesome? In the absence of an adequate special effects budget, director Lee Roy Myers has chosen to give us a good laugh, and isn’t that what parody is about? Serious fans of the show will appreciate the snapshots of characters that Myers presents, but the jokes aren’t so deep that the casual passerby won’t be able to laugh. The sex is pretty hot, too, with scenes from five of the show’s many, many storylines (all the adult ones, although underage King Joffrey is hilariously represented by a crossdressing Audrey Palmer in a mercifully non-sex role). There’s also some James Deen, Claire Robbins, Aaliyah Love and Tanya Tate.
There’s no-one in porn comedy better than Tommy Pistol, and his scene with Dana DeArmond, who I like better and better every day, is worth the entire price of the movie; the only thing to regret about it is that, since he is playing the doomed Robb Stark, he won’t be back for a sequel if there is one. Still, it was worth it. Watching him playing with his toy soldiers is almost better than the sex. Almost.
MILF of the Year
I don’t know if you’d call Shay Fox more accurately a MILF or a cougar; I don’t even know if there’s any meaningful distinction any more. Shay’s about to turn 44, though, which puts her pretty squarely in the middle of the demographic for both (in real life, I mean, not the porn demographic where 28 or so is the time when starlets turn into senior citizens). Unlike many of porn’s finest MILFs – Nina Hartley, Lisa Ann, Julia Ann, Francesca Le – Shay is a relative newcomer, having arrived in porn just recently, in 2010.
There’s something I find especially appealing about a woman who takes the plunge into porn after she’s 40 – it speaks of a laudable flinging off of shackles, a sudden liberation; I may be constructing my own fanciful and unrealistic narrative for Shay, who has more than 50 titles under her belt and a thriving website. She may well have been a dancer or a high-priced escort for fifteen years before that – her body says she has probably been doing something sexy for a while – but I choose to believe otherwise.
Shay reminds me a little of Jeanna Fine from her glory days in the nineties – lean, tan, with a shiny helmet of short black hair and a pair of obviously fake but still somehow appropriate breasts that just make her look even more streamlined. Like all the best MILFs, she looks like someone who has spent a while keeping herself in shape for no-one special’s approval and has suddenly decided to run herself up the flagpole and see who salutes. Well, I am saluting. Well done, Shay Fox.
Best Foreign Director
I really like what (and how) London’s Harmony Films does. Their marquee directors — Gazzman, Tanya Hyde, and Scarlett Revell — bring an elegance to the proceedings that suggests what American pornographers of the 1990s might have done had they today’s production values.
Gazzman is a globe trotter, sometimes shooting in America but often at home in the UK, in Ibiza, Venice, or Prague. While he occasionally refers to his glamazon Russian or former Eastern-bloc talent as “interchangeable dolly heads,” each performer is dolled up in a way that would raise the bar for the most exclusive mail-order bride sites.
His work is at once hardcore but lighthearted. He appeals to the consumer who likes the high-heeled glamor (you’ll never see Gazzman’s performers in ponytails or sweatpants) of a cheekily accessible woman.
But while Gazzman can work with European performers who can’t make it to the States, he also intersperses his casts with American talent, so his “Young Harlots” series, for example, is an international affair — grouping proper British birds like Samantha Bentley or Ava Dalush with mysterious Eurovixens like Henessy.
At 5’11”, Athena Pleasures is like a journey out of space and time. Not only that, but she holds her own boobs for you.
Pleasures has a name like strippers from the 1970s, and her scene with Ash makes us happy that there’s room for women of stature in the porn landscape.
We watch as she plays with her own breasts, because if we had a natural pair like that within easy proximity, we’d play with them, too. We also watch Ash grab a handful of her left cheek and feel sorry for him—you/we/he clearly wants to grab both cheeks and hold on with every hand he’s got, but if he double-fisted, his right hand would get in the way of the camera capturing her breasts bouncing beneath her. Such are the painful choices of a porn dude.
Of course, Pleasures works in plenty of movies that don’t have “Big” in the title (other than in reference to her boobs, which are, in fact, big), and we sigh a little at a world that thinks we must be reminded that “Big Girls Are Sexy,” but we’ll take as many handfuls of Athena Pleasures as we can get.
There are those who will tell you that Siri, bless her, is not a BBW – that she does not reach the minimum qualifications for inclusion in the category. And yet, she is pretty B, compared to most of the women in porn, and she is very B, and if you have seen her naked, or even just walking around, she is undeniably a W. But if we listen to these naysayers, Siri is trapped between the Big and the Small, the Scylla and Charybdis of porn, and there is no way we are relegating Siri to the dustbin of “normal.” One look at her will tell you that she is nothing ordinary. But surely she fits into the lower end of the category, in the same way that a corvette or a frigate is still a ship of war – smaller and fleeter, but no less important in the overall line.
Bright, confident and cheerful, Siri is a natural beauty who can look like she might be raking leaves at her dad’s house one minute, leading his poker buddies into temptation eh next, and finishing out the day taking a business meeting with the rest of the board of directors (given, the board of directors of a very, very dirty company). Her sleek platinum-blonde hair and bountiful body make her instantly recognizable, even if her single name makes her hard to search for without running up on Apple’s disembodied voice helper – but isn’t it fun to imagine that that soft, curvy body and those bouncing D-cups belong to the voice that helps you find out where to buy the best artisanal cheese?
TIE: Bonnie Rotten and Natasha Nice
Long ago there was an Ed Powers “Dirty Debutantes” movie in which a delicious Southern thing sat on the venerable Mr. Powers’ bed and said something like, “Don’t you want to just romp me?”
This verb stuck with me, and I always associated it with someone who was juicy, sunny, bouncy — perhaps a little sloppy and unhinged — but always ready to go. Kiki D’aire struck me this way in the early 2000s and Natasha Nice does today.
Natasha Nice is curvy but compact, a porn star who looks absorbent. Other machine-crafted porn stars seem taut and wizened with their big heads and fake boobs, but Nice, like a cushioned insole, can withstand an onslaught from above, behind, or (if we’re in the trunk of a car) sideways.
She also speaks French and has a personality that is not so sunny that you wonder if it’s superficial (these things occur to one if one is not from California).
Mr. pweasels and I agreed on Ms. Nice, but his tastes extended to Bonnie Rotten, whom I think is fantastic but also feel she is a dynamic arrangement of hard curves and paint, like having sex with a tower of Harlem Globetrotters’ basketballs. It is also the reason why, unless she gains 20 pounds, I couldn’t imagine putting shooting little Graminals into Stoya, delightful as she is.
Some of you may fancy yourselves men and women of the world, bon viveurs of the first water, and some of you may even be right; you may have arrived there after years of refinement, or you may be natural partiers with a knack for the high life. Don’t you think a date with Bonnie Rotten would be just the thing to test that out? I feel like Bonnie, with her nitro-fueled smile and her astonishing energy, would make for a good time so good that you would compare all future good times to it to see if they were really that good. Even in the relatively safe world of mainstream porn, Bonnie seems like a girl who might make a director say “Whoa, slow down, Rotten!”
The first time I ever saw Bonnie on screen, I knew I was not only not going to forget her, I knew that I was going to recognize her every time I ever saw her again, with her sharp, foxy face and her distinctive ink (she has spiderwebs around her nipples!); like my previous favorite Rotten, Rachel, I felt like we had a long future stretching out in front of us. Would I be just the tiniest bit daunted by the prospect of an actual date with her? Yes. Yes, I would. But I would go anyway, because how can you think yourself a man if you don’t think to yourself once in a while, “I could ride that.” We don’t have horses or dragons or your various assorted mythological monsters anymore to climb astraddle and risk our genitals on, so why not look to Bonnie Rotten to thrill us at the prospect of the wild hunt?
Thanks for Making Porn Seem like A Reasonable Job with Reasonable People
If you do not visit porn news sites, you might not know of this millennium’s “crossover star” trendlet, in which porn awards-granting bodies recognize people like Jenna Jameson, Sasha Grey, Tera Patrick, and Ron Jeremy for having ventured into the greater public’s eye as emissaries of Porn Valley.
Deen is a product of his time. A kid from Pasadena, he’s been “out” as a porn star for years, and is neither attention-seeking nor overcompensating. In fact, he’s genuinely shy. This shyness manifests itself on convention floors and award-show stages rather than in scenes.
It is sad that a ham like Evan Stone, or a performer favorite like Manuel Ferrara, hasn’t been cast in biggish Hollywood movies like Deen was in Paul Schrader’s “The Canyons” opposite Lindsey Lohan, but Deen makes this business look good; he is unassuming and friendly, and he puts a great face on the business.
Now someone should give Tommy Gunn a Hollywood shot, too, because he wants it and deserves it.
Movie of the Year
“The New Behind the Green Door”
“The New Behind the Green Door” is a complex piece of work; it’s neither a remake nor a reboot, but a sequel, although not so much a direct one. Brooklyn Lee stars as Hope, an aimless trust-fund baby whose one real concern in life is finding out who her mother is (a secret which is a mystery only to her, as anyone with the faculties to guess at all will have worked out who it is long before the big reveal). Saddled with a deadbeat boyfriend, played to type by James Deen, Hope has run through almost all of her patience and her inherited money (both of which will be completely exhausted by the middle of the movie); a life of parties, drinking and casual sex has left her cripplingly jaded, except for the part of her that wonders about where she came from – which must, she feels, inform who she is.
The New “BtGD” (for brevity’s sake) calls its progenitor to mind in many ways; shot in San Francisco, it echoes the original in both location and style – much of it has some of the same kind of disjointed fever-dream quality that the Mitchell Brothers brought to their production, and clips of the movie show up from time to time in the new one. The “New BtGD” lacks some of the art of the original, but I think It was a good decision to make a straighter, more narrative-driven movie – too often, attempts at Art result in incoherent shambles, and the old millennium was better suited to psychedelic insanity. Too, the seventies were a time of experimentation in porn, and the new teens are a time of profit, a dynamic reflected in the choices made by Marilyn Chambers and Brooklyn Lee in their respective roles. The camera work and editing, the costuming, even some of the titles, call to mind the style of the original, and the whole thing is a cohesive and skillfully made package – a tribute, not a ripoff.
In keeping with the new sensibility in porn, the sex scenes are longer and more plentiful but less transgressive than they were in the 70s, but still not as all-pervasive as you might expect in a film of this length. All of them are hot, though – Deen and Lee start off the game with a solid fuck scene in which they both describe their fantasies, and there’s a throwaway but still good scene with Steven St. Croix and Dana DeArmond at a party, interspersed with Deen’s two-girl blowjob fantasy being acted out. Brooklyn’s three-man interracial gangbang follows, intercut with the revels of the orgygoers at the Emperor’s club, and the whole thing is topped off by another thematically irrelevant but by no means unpleasant romp between Brandy Aniston and Richie Calhoun.
Brooklyn Lee is well cast in this film. She acts reasonably well, and the people responsible for costume and makeup have made a choice to keep her looking like a real person; she is not the kind of doll you see in lead roles of big features most of the time – and that off-the-street quality makes her believable. Her acting is restrained and real, and her sex scenes are well-done too, especially the first one, in which she and Deen trade fantasies; that one in particular comes off the way real sex might if the people involved were as out of tune with each other as these two are.
Steven St. Croix is the man who knows her parentage and wants to give her access to the legacy of debauchery to which she is heir. They meet at a party where she and Deen are crashing impostors, lying their way through conversations and trying to pass among the haute monde. He sees her dissatisfaction with her life and offers her knowledge, freedom and deliverance at once, but she’s not quite ready to take him up on it. It’s not until she exhausts her finances and her tolerance for her deadbeat boyfriend that she decides to take a chance. As Vivid movies will, this one falters a little when it comes to logic here, but she ends up at the Emperor’s Club, where she undergoes something very similar to the revelatory experience Gloria had forty years before.
Ravished in front of a crowd of lustful orgygoers, her fantasy of a three-man interracial “rape” is brought to life. Here, in 2013, it’s made clear from the beginning that this was what she wanted, so it’s not as transgressive a scene as when it happened in the original; interracial doesn’t have the cachet it did in 1972, either, when Marilyn Chambers onscreen abduction and rape was arguably the first interracial scene in a porn feature, but here, we are more emotionally involved in Brooklyn’s fate.
After what seems like an awakening, Brooklyn has some decisions to make, and we are treated to the last straw – a scene in which she endures the attentions of the venerable Herschel Savage, who seems to be embracing his inner Ron Jeremy in more and more roles. I will leave the end of the movie to reveal itself to you – suffice it to say that while it is not ambiguous at all, it is pleasingly open-ended, and I for one found the whole thing tidy and satisfying. It is a truth of the current regime at Vivid that while Paul Thomas comedies are incoherent, fluffy messes, Paul Thomas dramas are depressing cautionary tales that make you think sex might just be an indirect form of suicide; “The New Behind the Green Door” is neither – it hangs together, looks good and has a point, and if it gets nominated for as many AVN Awards as things like this usually do, it will deserve them, and it will deserve to win.
Comeback of the Year (good)
Speaking as a person who is moving – gracefully, I hope – into the time of life in which it is more and more likely that I will be viewed as a creepy old man (unless I apply a sort of annual cost-of-aging increase to my target demographic), I can only admire Herschel Savage, who has managed to continue having sex with gorgeous young women while fishtailing deeper and deeper into the shadows of true creepiness. Don’t get me wrong – porn needs its creepy old men. From Debbie Loves Dallas on, and probably even before porn movies had names, the lecherous old goat has been a staple figure, whether he is half-assedly fending off a babysitter, blackmailing a student who needs a grade, or jacking off while watching his innocent stepdaughter in the shower.
Herschel Savage has been all of those guys, but his career has been oozing steadily up toward an entirely different level of creepiness. The last time I saw him was in “Throat: A Cautionary Tale,” Paul Thomas’ (itself incredibly creepy) revisiting of the Deep Throat legend – in that one, he played an Old-Testament-style rabbi who first made panting, sweaty use of Sasha Grey’s talented throat before handing her a broken bottle and advising her to cut her own throat out; now that I’m back, one of the first things I have seen is Herschel in yet another PT rebranding of a classic, sweatily jacking off on Brooklyn Lee’s feet while taking bondage pictures of her in the back of his pawnshop after underpaying her for her mom’s pearl necklace.
Savage, who played a young and virile football player in “Debbie Does Dallas,” was introduced to porn in 1974 by R. Bolla, who played a creepy old man in “Debbie Does Dallas,” and there’s a bit of irony for you, or maybe it’s just the great circle of life.
As he moves into his seventh decade of life and his fifth in porn, Savage joins the ranks of great creepy old men like the unstoppable Ron Jeremy, Dirty Harry (owner of the creepiest mustache in porn and a performer who started his career as a creepy old man), Ed Powers, who managed to be creepy long before he was old, Joey Silvera, who is mostly creepy on the sidelines these days, and Amy Fisher’s Daddy.
Comeback of the Year (not so good)
Jameson stayed away from porn for several years, famously (at least in these circles) declaring at the AVN Awards in January, 2008 that she would not “spread (her) legs for this industry again.”
Just think about that statement. Not “I will no longer appear in movies; I prefer you to remember me a certain way,” but a venomous brush-off negating the very thing porn is about. And that’s the way she felt; she was over it.
Jameson conceived twin boys with MMA star Tito Ortiz, giving birth in 2009, and settled in for a porn-free but occasionally tabloid-haunted life with Ortiz, that up to and following their breakup included mutual allegations of domestic abuse and drug use, Jameson’s DUI, and her loss, in April 2013, of the custody of her sons to Ortiz.
I met Jenna three times. Twice when I interviewed her for AVN in the early years of this century and then, when I accepted Teagan Presley’s plaque for her at the XRCO Awards, Jenna walked up to me and said, “Good job, Teagan.”
She was a millionaire who was always nice to me, and I admit that I rooted for her to not need to come back. She had made it so clear in 2008 that she wouldn’t miss it, and that she wanted to make her money any other way.
It does not seem likely that Jameson has returned for a second act, a way to tackle some unfinished business. She’s not like Richard Nixon, who also once declared he would not spread his legs for this industry and returned, eight years later, to become President.
No, Jameson has returned, out of need, to a place she didn’t want to see again.
Sadly, Jameson’s recent appearances promoting her romance book “Sugar” have been stammering misfires. There is no other way to say she does not look on the top of her game, and to suggest substance abuse is not unreasonable.
Years ago, up and coming starlets would wish to be Jenna, to have Jenna’s career; now it seems that Jameson is unraveling in a way more suitable (or at least expected) for an addled porn star half her age. It’s tough to watch it happen to a person, and tough to watch one of the most identifiable porn stars in the world confirming some of the worst porn stereotypes: that Porn is a place you land when you can’t get a gig elsewhere.
What Is It We’re Fucking?
Six years ago young Farrah Abraham was impregnated in what — I’m only speculating — was an unplanned move never intended to make her a reality TV personality. Today the “Teen Mom” star is the Queen of a Fisher Price chess set, all its pieces proceeding according to some kind of plan.
Abraham, the story goes, never intended for a “private” sex tape to go public, so makes no mention that Abraham’s co-star is James Deen, only the most famous porn star in the world right now. The pair were photographed holding hands outside Vivid’s offices on Cahuenga Blvd., as if that windswept nowhereland would ever inspire gestures of affection.
The Abraham sex tape follows one of the two established sex tape narratives. Since her DVD is called “Backdoor Teen Mom,” we’ll say she took Route #1: The Buttafuoco.
Shortly after the release of “Amy Fisher Caught on Tape,” Joey Buttafuoco and wife Evanka were “captured” making sweet love in the home of director Rob Spallone, who conveniently happened to have cameras running in the room. After a short well-publicized back and forth with studio Red Light District (originators of the celebrity sex tape genre with the genuine Paris Hilton and Pamela Anderson/Tommy Lee releases) that their marital strivings were not for public consumption, the Buttafuocos consented to releasing the blessed event to the public.
It’s a way of saving face for people ashamed of getting naked for cash. This is the tack taken by Kim Kardashian, and how Abraham and Vivid are pursuing their partnership.
The other method is the Chyna Road, in which a celebrity knowingly, zestily embraces porn and makes a willing leap into its many folds, a la lady-wrestler Chyna.
We can be sure that Abraham was not paid $2 million for “consenting” to release the professionally-staged footage, as she has been quoted in news outlets demanding—
“I am happy with the seven figure settlement I have reached, with who I feel to be the best adult entertainment company in the industry, Vivid,” Abraham said in a statement (unaware that you’re not supposed to count the numbers to the right of the decimal point).
—but the string of calculations leading to this tape at least make it believable Abraham is in it to win it, is a different person than who she was six years ago, and doesn’t intend to fall into obscurity like other sex tape celebrities, such as Montana Fishburne.
But what does winning it mean? Vivid co-chairman Steve Hirsch seems to believe that “it” is fame and ubiquity, if not respect or a marriage lasting more than 72 days.
“Farrah’s looks remind me of a young Kim Kardashian,” Hirsch says, “and we all know how her story turned out.”
The Everything Bagel of Porn Series
“Big Wet Asses”
If we could put porn DVDs into building cornerstones, in order that future tentacled anthro-drones might know why their human forebears left all that seed on the ground, “Big Wet Asses? is the type of DVD series that should go there.
After all, once you douse a big ass with baby oil, everything else gets slick and squishable, too. Decorum goes right out the window, and (in my opinion) decorum is the enemy of porn.
“But is it only caucasians that get all squishy?” you might ask. No. The “Big Wet Asses” family of products also includes Brazilians and African-Americans getting all slicked and splooged on.
It’s not like we arrive at any essential truths in these DVDs, which routinely feature “first” anal scenes – something I couldn’t care less about – from some of your favorite heretofore exit-only starlets, but there is a giddiness that runs through the proceedings as if it were doused with baby oil and fucked nearly to oblivion. Which it is.
Out of many fine performances, I think my favorite is the one put on by Gianna who, in an introductory tease sequence from “Big Wet Asses 15,” is flouncing around a white backdrop when her big sloppy boob flops out. She doesn’t care, and by “sloppy” I don’t mean unattractive; the lesson we learn from these movies is that precision is the enemy of grabbing as many handfuls of hot, greased women as possible.
We Want To See A Lot More Of
Mia Malkova is not some whippet-thin strip of sex jerky, walking amongst the cranes and helipads of Downtown L.A. in director Mason’s “Eternal Passion 1.” In fact, had she skipped lunch, she might have blown right off the roof.
Neither is she a methed-out, wild-eyed Ringwraith when she playfully bites Manuel Ferrara’s balls in “Raw 16.”
In both movies she seems like perfect girlfriend material, albeit one that represents punching way above one’s weight.
Malkova is tall and pale. We watch her ascending steps in a pristine downtown highrise, only to emerge, even more naked, in full view of morning drive traffic ‘copters. Her confidence is pleasantly shocking, even though she’s just the type of exhibitionist that people like.
After dallying awhile on the roof — just to prove a point — Malkova goes back inside to find a nattily dressed and shorn Danny Mountain, who wastes no time, and we don’t blame him.
There is a certain porn shot I like, the side-saddle, that shows all the action I need. Lying on her back upon crisp white sheets, Malkova opens up for Mountain, who keeps her legs spread.
It is here we notice that Malkova, freed of the burden of standing on porny high heels, isn’t toned like a cheese grater. In fact, she looks like she occasionally enjoys cheese. We are not talking about a BBW here, just a personally-reassuring amount of fat that just makes her look good.
One gets the impression that Malkova might eat some Pringles on those sheets later, and that Mountain won’t kick her out for doing so.