All I wanted to see when I arrived on the set of The Da Vinci Load yesterday (and, I’ll admit it, all I ever want to see) was Missy Monroe. This re-blonded and corn-fed American gal can shuck oysters, bake bread, drive a combine, teach kindergarten, and talk to you seriously about your shingling. Perhaps what I just said was a lie. Still: America loves Missy.
I usually don’t attend sets for more than an hour because I am invariably called on to demonstrate my precision and control, but I like the bigger-budget porn movies because they have excellent craft services and the atmosphere is one of a high school reunion in which all the attendees previously thought the other ones were dead, that is, I thought I was the only person covering this thing. But it was a media circus.
I met James Deen, a Pasadena native in his first year in porn. He seems shy but affable. He doesn’t particularly look like James Dean, in the same way that the porn performer Cindy Crawford looks nothing like Cindy Crawford. I reflect for a moment that Deen looks more like Dean than Crawford looks like Crawford, and yet Deen took the time to change a vowel. I think he’ll go far.
“How did you choose your porn name?” I asked.
“I didn’t,” Deen said, “Pamela Peaks did.”
That makes sense to me. Pamela Peaks is a zesty French-Canadian porn grande dame whose name suggests a stripper heritage and a lingering appeal to men of a certain age (I like Peaks a great deal, but she is no longer in the ingenue category—more like madame, bar matron with a heart of gold and a few tricks up her sleeve, or Swinging Single Senior. She would be great if Porn Valley ever did a version of “The Golden Girls”). Left to his own devices, Deen might have chosen an especially topical (or stupid) porn name, but Peaks knew something different.
Both Deen and castmate Charlotte Stokely were favorites of steveporn director Eon McKai, so it was interesting to see the two pale youngsters on a more corporate porn set, you know, with all the trappings, like guys in their 40s holding lights, being ordered around by veteran director Jerome “Jerry T.” Tanner.
There were so many representatives of leading adult trade publications there that I feared checks would just start bouncing themselves. In one corner a publicist helped out a cub reporter by explaining to her that a FIP is a “fake internal popshot”. Cubbie then asked Tanner which actor was playing Da Vinci. I felt curmudgeonly and disgusted about feeling curmudgeonly at the same time.
A new reporter from AVN, Chloe, was there. I briefly vented my disenhappinessment that my former employer has blocked me from commenting on their blog. I only wanted to tell them that I forgave them, and it’s OK. But I guess they don’t feel they deserve my forgiveness in the form of a validated Typekey identity.
The entry I wanted to respond to was this one, and I would have said that AVN is sounding more like Mike South all the time.
***UPDATE: Former boss Mike Ramone writes to say that I flatter myself to think my blog privileges have been rescinded, that AVN’s comment function is merely broken temporarily, that I am self-important, and that now the healing can begin. This is a relief, as I have just purchased AVN and Teddy Communications.
I realize now that I know a lot of people who applied for Acme Andersson’s job when he left AVN, but they were all guys. Perhaps the feeling was that hiring a male would run the risk of yet another man falling in love with Heidi.
I wandered into a room in which Evan Stone was fucking Haley Paige by a fireplace. Paige is delicious to look at, and I know how this works, but all around them there were cushiony places that they could have fucked on. Why did they have to stand up at a fireplace?
Maybe there’s a fireplace fucking scene in the book with the Virgin Mary or something.
The set was a classroom in which Ms. Monroe was being serviced top to bottom by two fellows. This was happening in front of a classroom of extras, with a fussy Hustler staff photographer bustling in and out, and the stage door opening and closing to let in more people. It’s difficult to maintain an erection, much less two, in such an atmosphere, but I did.
Monroe was wearing glasses through much of the scene, and when they were dually ejaculated upon she said, “This is easy, (though I can’t see anymore). Getting cum in your eye with contacts on is worse, and it hurts a lot.” Monroe was playing the teacher of the class, and she dismissed the extras after the pop.
I have yet to see anything in Load that is remotely close to The Da Vinci Code, and this pleases me. Still, someone needs to make an effort, don’t they? Otherwise it’s only a funny title that leaves viewers disoriented, much like 1. Whore of the Rings, 2. Lord of the G-Strings, 3. Bi-tanic, and 4. Pink Clam.
A Review of “The Da Vinci Load”
Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Charlotte Stokely speaks in tongues
See also: Hustler
Dear Gram,
Are you Thing One or Thing Two?