CINEMA SEEN - "Marilyn Chambers: A Cut Above The Rest!"
By William Margold

     It was a miserably cold and foggy night in San Francisco. Being used to the relatively balmy climate of Southern California, I had only brought along a flimsy jacket that did little to ward off the elements that were causing me to shiver.
     I had been commandeered by Mike Steele, the tyrannical owner of Spectrum West (an artistically pretentious adult entertainment publication based in Los Angeles for which I wrote various columns) to join him on this late evening foray in August 1972 to help in the process of collecting the money from, and then restocking, our newly established news racks in the hilly, windswept environs of "Frisco."
     All of a sudden, Steele, who was taking the quarters from me, and then handing me the papers to place in the racks, screamed, "You are getting blood all over the place." I looked down and discovered that apparently a coin slot had made quite a deep cut into my right thumb, and that my blood was now mixing freely with the considerable amount of dirt that I had collected off of the racks. But since my hands were numb, I hadn’t felt the wound being inflicted. However all Mike, totally indifferent to the fact that I might really be hurt, could do was continue to express his concern for the state of his precious papers. At that point I decided that my news rack servicing days were over. I told him to take me back to the hotel that we were staying in, and that I would make my way back to Los Angeles at my own expense.
     I didn’t get very much sleep because, although I had done my best to clean up the cut, the gaping wound was throbbing like a piece of barbed wire had crawled into it and was gnawing at my nerve endings.
     Discovering that the first available and most reasonably priced flight back to LA wouldn’t be until very late in the afternoon, I scanned the local paper looking for a movie house that I could escape into, and noticed that a film called "Behind The Green Door" was going to be shown "For Free" at The O’Farrell Theater.
     And that’s what led me to seeing Marilyn Chambers on the screen.
     And once the beautiful lady appeared in all of her glory, a throbbing elsewhere in my body took my mind off the pain in my thumb.
     And when the imposing ebony entity of Johnnie Keyes boldly assaulted Marilyn’s Ivory Soap girl’s innocence, I smiled sardonically as America’s Morality was rent asunder. And I writhed wantonly in the knowledge that the world would never be the same again.
     Hardcore filmmaking was here to stay.
     And I sensed that I had found my own destiny.
     Little did I realize however, that I would eventually wind up becoming one of the keeper’s of its flame as well as a highly regarded chronicler of its shattering impact on society’s nervous system.
     Marilyn Chambers’ tragic death last week made a great deal more than my thumb hurt.
     I struggled painfully for a few days--- fielding e-mails and calls from an aching army of Adult Entertainment Industry associates and XXX fans who desperately needed someone to share their misery with.
     I knew however that I would eventually have no choice but to spill my own tears...and you are reading them now.
     (Note: I am quite thankful that I was given the blessing of Carnal Comics to accompany my words with a number of their images from the three-part history series that I helped them to compile in 1995.)
     I did not have the honor (and I’m sure what would have been the pleasure) of working sexually with Ms. Chambers. But I did have many opportunities to pay homage to her---including staging a "Broast" for her at the 2005 FOXE (Fans of X-Rated Entertainment) event during which Johnnie Keyes made a surprise guest appearance.
     Inducted into every Hall of Fame that the Adult Entertainment Industry has ever created---her true magnitude was immediately validated when I was coordinating The Legends of Erotica playing card deck (a work still in progress, and one that may well never come to fruition), and Marilyn was "without a doubt" accorded The Ace of Spades position by the late Jim Holliday.
     John C. Holmes ("The King"), the most important man in X...died 21 years ago.
     And now, Marilyn Chambers ("The Queen"), the most important woman in X... has joined him.
     Together...they will reign over The Carnal Cinematic Court that they so magnificently and monumentally helped to create...forever.
     end
     NOTE: Originally published in LA Xpress, April 23, 2009 issue.

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CINEMA SEEN - "Lewdly Patriotic!"
By William Margold

     That I am dedicating an "entire precious page" of Cinema Seen space to WATCHMEN might suggest to you that I really liked the movie.
     Well...that’s not exactly true.
     But after all I went through "preparing" to see the film...I at least "respect it" enough to give it the back cover that you are looking at.
     It all started when a number of hyperventilating "fanboys" of the highly acclaimed WATCHMEN graphic novel (published in 12 parts during 1986 and 1987 by DC Comics), began challenging me to "read the book before I saw the movie"---or I "wouldn’t be able to understand the real meaning of the film."
     So I plunked down my $20...and picked up the hefty---now compressed into one complete combination of images and text for easier handling---publication (the cover of which is justifiably featured on this page), and waded into what I thought would be a "simple" comic book reading experience.
     Almost immediately however, I realized that this was going to be a far cry from the comic books that disturbed my youth during the early 1950’s. But then again, since I cut my mental teeth on what was ghoulishly served up between the highly suggestive covers of many EC comics---which eventually wound getting banned---maybe what I was paging through wasn’t going to be that different after all.
     However, within a few pages, I became impressed by the fact that, while not all that different, what I was embarking on was going to be anything but "simple."
     Indeed...as I began to penetrate writer Alan Moore’s and illustrator Dave Gibbons’ formidable amalgam of mind rattling images and thought provoking text, I realized that I was never going to be able to finish the task, or in fact, give the proper time and attention to Moore’s and Gibbons’ creation that it so obviously deserved...before I saw the movie.
     So I opted to just read...and try and absorb as much of the picture and word portion of WATCHMEN as I could...and skip the considerable amount of compelling connective text between each drawn chapter.
     Of course...I promised myself that one day in the not so distant future...when I was blessed with a considerable amount of "free time"...I would return to the book and "out of respect"...I would give it the thorough studying that I could sense it had earned during my initial visit. That the Zack ("300") Snyder directed production is too faithful to the book unfortunately is the double-edged sword that finally what makes the film ultimately fail as entertainment. And I wonder now if I hadn’t read (or known) almost everything before watching the movie, would I be slitting its throat, as well as my interest nerves, with that very same weapon.
     It is the Cold War era bleak world on the verge of termination that the film’s storyline is immersed in, and those who were once heroes and amusingly costumed defenders of good have become archaic. But when one of them (The Comedian played with very convincing/cigar chomping charismatic damnation by Jeffrey Dean Morgan) is brutally murdered, the rest of the fearless family rise from their exiles, and venture off to save mankind...in spite of itself.
     Indeed...there is something lewdly patriotic about WATCHMEN that is as compelling as it is disconcerting, and because of that, it is very hard to like... but certainly not all that difficult to "respect"---or perhaps I should say "perversely admire."
     Leading the way against an unknown enemy is the seemingly soulless Rorschach, a nightmarishly masked man magnetically etched by Jackie Earle Haley. He is Heath Ledger’s Joker taken to even deeper levels of dementia, but damn if he isn’t the purest soul of the entire group.
     Joining him are Patrick Wilson as an appropriately square Nite Owl, Malin Ackerman as a fittingly slinky Silk Spectre, and Billy Crudup as the accidentally irradiated, but therefore incredibly wise Dr. Manhattan.
     Eventually they discover that the unknown enemy is one of their own---the preening Ozymandias (Matthew Goode)---whose master plan is to frighten the world into peaceful submission.
     And while I don’t want to give everything away here...although I "respected" the intent of the message...I remained unmoved as it was delivered.
     There are always going to be enough wild dogs out there that are impervious to being afraid.
     And they will be the ones who eventually push the buttons that will reduce this planet back to the cosmic dust it came from.
     And at that point in the tortured tissue of time...all of us will become WATCHMEN...futilely trapped in the fact that all we can do is watch...until our eyes explode.
     end
     NOTE: Originally published in LA Xpress, March 26, 2009 issue.

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