Thursday, December 4, 2008

A Parallel Universe

Yesterday, I was at a meeting at a Hollywood production company's offices. Nope. It had nothing to do with my PGS reality show. This meeting was to pitch a different project. Although this project has very little to do with glamour photography, I think I'll blog a bit about it anyway.

It was a unique and memorable experience. If you don't believe in parallel universes, your take on the subject would probably be changed had you been a fly-on-the-wall at this meeting.

Background: A number of years ago, when I was working mostly as an adult film director rather than a photographer, I had a partner who was (is) quite a colorful character. (Think a louder, cruder, and whackier Robert DeNiro in "Analyze This.") My ex-partner's job was being the producer while my job was directing, shooting, and editing the shows. We were responsible for a lot of flicks being distributed in the marketplace, some high-end (by adult standards) and some not so high-end. This ex-partner is one of those guys who always has an entourage surrounding him: An entourage of misfits, whackos, and degenerates. We, my ex-partner and I, always thought the truly bizarre events that routinely transpired as a result of this crew of freaks, losers, and oddballs was entertaining enough that someone should be constantly videotaping it. This was before the current popularity of reality shows.

A few weeks ago, my ex-partner was hired by this very same production company (we were meeting with) to appear on a TV show they are producing. I don't know the name of the show but it's a new, courtroom-themed, reality show. To say this show doesn't take itself, courtrooms, or legal proceedings very seriously is an understatement.

Apparently, my ex-partner was in rare form as he regaled and entertained the show's cast, crew, and live audience. "We've produced over 50 episodes," said the show's executive producer, "And this one was, by far, the best... the funniest... the most entertaining!" (Had I heard this statement recounted by my ex-partner I'd be suspicious of its authenticity but it came right out of the mouth of the exec while were at yesterday's meeting.)

After the taping of the show, my ex-partner met with the producers and convinced them they should take a pitch meeting with him. They agreed. What they didn't expect was my ex-partner showing up at the meeting with a sampling of the very same whacked-out crew who still are part of his daily entourage. I received a phone call from my ex-partner, asking me to also attend. We don't hang out these days. In fact, we've only seen each other a few times in the last 3 or 4 years, but I agreed to go. I decided to bring along a video camera to record this meeting that, trust me, would be a meeting the likes of which these Hollywood guys would remember for a long time.

So there we were, at the plush offices of the Hollywood production company: My ex-partner, his ex-wife (think Fran Drescher of "The Nanny"), Joey (the Long Island Lolita guy) Buttafuoco, Gerry the Limo Driver (the crotchety, 80-something-year-old, barely alive, "Open yer own freakin' door," limo driver who has Tourette Syndrome), Lance the Amish Guy (who's actually a Hungarian who came to this country to become a film director after winning an immigration lottery and lives in a homeless shelter and looks more Amish than Hungarian or anything else. Lance is simultaneously mentally-challenged and mentally-gifted and sounds like an autistic Count Dracula when he speaks.), Shylock (a former loan shark turned porn agent), Crystal the Porn Star (a ditzy, dark-haired, beauty whom my ex-partner refers to as "Crystal Meth"), Pete the Writer (who, apparently, wrote a few movie scripts in the 80s that were produced and who now believes his life's calling is to immortalize my ex-partner in a book, or a movie, or whatever), and, of course, yours truly.

On the other side of the room were two executive producers, a couple of line producers, and 2 or 3 development people. We were in a big conference room with the Hollywood folks on one side of the room, maintaining a safe distance from my ex-partner and the motley crew he brought along with him, and my ex and his entourage on the other. The Hollywood people also had a cameraman, with a camera mounted on a tripod and pointed at my ex and his crew, to record the pitch. I took a lone seat that was in the middle of the room, along a side wall, between these diverse groups. As I mentioned, I also brought along a video camera and, in an effort to keep things fair, routinely turned my camera on the production company people. Most of the time, I was on my feet, bouncing about the room, recording the truly bizarre stuff happening on my ex-partner's side of the room.

As I watched my ex-partner perform his over-the-top, part-wiseguy & part-moron comedy routine, introducing the members of his misfit entourage and giving them ample opportunities to prove how truly dysfunctional most of them are, and then recounting stories from the world of porn (with accompanying visual aids) that should have had all the normal people in the room blushing, the Hollywood folks were nearly salivating with interest and awe, hanging on every word and asking for more. There were times when things got so loud and out of control I was surprised someone outside the conference room didn't call security. For a time, this big conference room became an insane asylum.

The meeting lasted about an hour-and-a-half. (I ran out of tape in my camera before it was over... great planning on my part.) At the end, the exec producers asked if my ex-partner would call the following day to set an appointment to come back, without the entourage, to talk business. For whatever reason, I'm to be part of the follow-up meeting. We'll see what happens. The working title of this proposed TV show? "Porntourage."

The pretty girl at the top is Roxy from some time ago, shot in my studio... when I still had one.

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