The Flesh Trade (Prostitution)

Rumor has it that Wall Street traders now believe in God.

Today we talk about the flesh trade practices of the rich and famous.

Well, perhaps $80,000 less rich over an unspecified period of time. Soon-to-be-former Governor Spitzer paid $4,300 for his pre-valentine's day date and there was a "credit" left over for future sessions. It's hard to imagine what came up.

We now know that the hourly rate for high-end prostitution beats most day jobs. The Emperors' top (and questionable) fee of $31,000 per day was more than even Britain's wealthiest man was willing to pop for: the "dull and demanding" Duke of Westminster topped out at the $1,000/hour services. Supposedly, the Emperors Club set its fees according to the “individual education, sophistication and and ambiance created by each of our models.” But maybe that's not what famous men want when they visit prostitutes.

Prostitution is defined as sexual activity in exchange for remuneration. On screen it's simulated but the transaction still takes place: it's sex for money. Off-screen at the Emperors Club VIP it's the real thing.

Just how many degrees of separation are there between the high priced hookers at the Emperors Club and the Hollywood actresses who use their sexuality to achieve a similarly exalted paycheck?

There are, of course, the stars who consent to play hookers on screen. So many, in fact, that prostitute roles (and all the euphemistic variations) are cliche. And then there are the hookers who service the stars out on the street (hello Hugh, hello Divine). And there are even the hookers turned screenwriters who win Oscars for their work (you didn't think she was born with the name Diablo Cody, did you?).

But the real money is in pandering to the movie-going John. It's the fans that buy the simulated sex on the screen. Showing bare breast in a Hollywood movie is de rigueur for actresses high and low. Why? Because it sells.

At it's most crass is Lindsay Lohan ripping off Marilyn Monroe with photographer Bert Stern's help. (Both the breasts and sun damaged skin are real.)

There are websites devoted to cataloguing every instance of "breasts, bush, buns" on film. Maintained by a crack cadre of skinterns, these movie reviewers are the unsung trainspotters of titillation. One celebrity nude database allows you to search on any actress's (or actor's) name and find out which pieces of flesh appeared in which film. For instance, Nicole Kidman has done her typical role, frosty and naked, in 15 mainstream films to date. Go ahead, try to find a prominent actress who hasn't flashed on-screen.

There are some striking gender differences. Despite films to the contrary (in The Wedding Date Debra Messing rents escort Dermot Mulroney for $6,000 plus first-class trans-Atlantic airfare), very few women are interested in paying thousands of dollars for hired sex. We pay in other ways.

Maybe that's why very, very few Hollywood films feature male genitalia on screen. Or even a naked rear end. In Somethings Gotta Give (2003) we get three opportunities for a leisurely study of Jack Nicholson's prosthetic buttocks, but it was was Diane Keaton who gave a full frontal. (Faithful readers, not one image could I find online.)

In Eastern Promises (2007), Viggo Mortensen sports nothing but his tattoos in probably the most violent four-minute screen fight to date. But it is one of the very rare instances in mainstream film where a major male character is shown fully nude.

Boyish actor Emile Hirsch floats naked Into the Wild (2007) as Chris McCandless. Briefly. In the distance.

None of the above film portrayals of male genital gee-whiz involve any sexual simulation stimulation. The closest we get may be Brokeback Mountain (2005). And you still had to use your imagination to visualize the naughty bits.

An explicit male nude scene is invariably hailed as evidence of an actor's "serious commitment to the role." When an actress takes her clothes off, everyone knows that line is a joke.

Women disrobe on-screen with a thousand-fold greater frequency because they're selling. They're selling to the movie industry to get the role and ultimately to the movie-going John. Men just don't have to put out to make it in Hollywood.

Fade to Black (Suicide)

Dorothy Parker had it about right:

Razors pain you;
rivers are damp;
acids stain you;
and drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
nooses give;
gas smells awful;
you might as well live.

'Tis the season to not be jolly, for some people. The holidays are difficult for the emotionally vulnerable and Hollywood inhabitants are no exception.

Witness our suicide watch for Britney Spears after her latest debacle. Our troubled queen of tabloid trainwrecks has her visitation rights suspended after a non-exchange of the children, is whisked away by ambulance, discharges herself AMA after refusing psychiatric treatment, flies off to Mexico with her new boyfriend for a 24-hour liquid cure at the bar, and then shows up three hours late for a court hearing which she doesn't attend.

Ooops, she did it again.

And she's not the only one. Kate Hudson announced in this month's Vogue that she wishes Owen Wilson "beautiful things — health and everything that he desires in life” after his suicide attempt last August (wrist slashing and pills).

There's a long tradition of suicide attempts, near-misses, and bullseyes in Tinsel Town.

It's almost expected in the music industry. Typically, the singers make it stick: Judy Garland (and Auntie Em, too), Dorothy Dandridge, Kurt Cobain....The Singing Nun (she and her lesbian lover took an overdose of barbiturates and alcohol).

My money is on poor Amy Winehouse.

Then there are those Hollywood stars who have tried and failed. Many iconic names pop up: Maxene Andrews, Brigitte Bardot, Sammy Davis, Jr., Patty Duke, Elizabeth Taylor, Robert Young. More recently, Halle Berry, distraught over a failed marriage, tried to end her life by carbon monoxide poisoning. Drew Barrymore got it out of the way early when she tried to kill herself after leaving drug rehab in 1989 at the age of 14.

Sometimes it runs in the family. Margaux Hemingway, the actress/model granddaughter of Ernest Hemingway, died via a phenobarbital overdose. Papa Hemingway also took an early exit, as did his father, Clarence Hemingway, and his two siblings Ursula and Leicester.

And the most famous one of them all? No, Marilyn Monroe's death was probably not a suicide. Donald Spoto's 2001 biography makes a very convincing case that her death was essentially a tragic medical mistake.

The suicide rate rose by about 20% between 1999 and 2004 among middle-aged Americans, its highest point in 25 years according to the CDC (Centers for Disease Control). While four times as many men suicide, women are more likely to attempt. The 45-54 age group is led by women; men wait until retirement. What is most predictive of completed suicide is a history of serious attempts – alcohol and drugs up that risk enormously. An expression of hopelessness is a particularly ominous sign, and someone who admits to a plan is at maximum risk.

It doesn't exactly sneak up on those close to the suicide.

What to do? Ask him or her. Then ask again. For a very thoughtful further exploration of this topic, link here to read an excerpt from authors Gayle Rosellini and Mark Worden's book Here Comes the Sun.


PS:
As promised, here is the verdict on Donda West's post-surgical death last November. The autopsy report released last week states she died of "...coronary artery disease and multiple postoperative factors..." While recuperating at home the next evening after her surgery, she was left unattended long enough to vomit up old blood, aspirate it, and have a heart attack.

Remember Dr. Andre Aboolian? He's the board certified plastic surgeon who asked for a preoperative exam from an internist: "I always insist on a medical clearance for women over 40, and in this instance, it was particularly important because of a condition she had I felt could have led to a heart attack."

Kanye West's mother had a family history of heart disease and hypertension. Her sister had died of a heart attack. She, herself, had been treated in the past for hypertension. She was obese (188 lbs.) and wanted a lengthy 5 and a half-hour surgery: a bilateral mammaplasty (breast lift with 325 ml implants) and circumferential abdominoplasty (belt lipectomy, liposuction). On autopsy, her right coronary artery was found to be 50-70% occluded and she had an abnormal hemoglobin variant.

The Los Angeles coroner did not determine the manner of death, but here's how he thinks it played out. The tight postop bandages around her torso constricted her breathing, along with the pain medications which can depress the respiratory centers of the brain. If her blood was somewhat diluted with all the intra-operative fluids she received over the long surgery, it would exacerbate the drug-induced hypotension (low blood pressure). When she aspirated her vomit this further decreased the oxygen supply to the lungs. The drop in oxygenation and low blood pressure was too much for her compromised heart and she went into asystolic cardiac arrest, dying before anyone noticed.


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Oscar Fabulous

Being fabulous! Isn't that what the Oscars are all about? We're all vicarious Cinderellas, dreaming about being fabulous. Is it the perfect dress and makeup that makes the star? Or are they manufactured out of silicone, restalyne, hair extensions, and cash?

This year's Academy Awards was all about the revenge of the Real Girls. Jennifer Hudson overpowers Beyonce (you think that hug at the moment all cameras were on Jennifer Hudson wasn't calculated?) because she's real. Beyonce is as Hollywood as they get: a manufactured beauty. She's had her breasts done, her nose thinned and tip made pointier, hair straightened and dyed, starved her thighs. It's a volatile topic but she looks less African-American than before. Was she beautiful before? Absolutely– but a Caucasian aesthetic dominates Hollywood and it shows. Just look around at the Oscars. The men are allowed to be deliciously dark, while black actresses have to pass. Jennifer Hudson is fresh in part because she breaks that unspoken rule.

Example #2 of Real Girls' revenge? Nicole Kidman gets the Oscar award for the most obvious surgical intervention: forehead (botox), lips (Restalyne), breasts (implants) or maybe she just padded that big red dress. Her face is painted like an airbrushed masterpiece. As an actress she rarely breaks out of the mannequin role. Now look at her posed next to Meryl Streep. The best line of the Oscars belonged to her and the 14 nominations she's received as an actress so far: I'm a size 14, so it all matches! Do you think Nicole Kidman will have her pick of roles as a 58 year-old size 14?

Listen to what Real Girl A-listers have to say:

I would never ever have plastic surgery. We're all just going way too far. I know it's a product of the whole celebrity industry, but it's something I absolutely detest. I want my daughter to see what is real, not what is unachievable and fake.
– Julianne Moore, 46

[Plastic surgery] makes these people, actors especially, fantasy figures for a fantasy world...acting is about being real, being honest.
– Kate Winslet, 32

[P]eople who look too perfect don’t look sexy or particularly beautiful.
– Rachel Weisz, 36

Death is not going to be any easier just because your face can't move.
– Cate Blanchett, 37

The bottom line: if you're trading on your looks and not your talent, you're going to have a short, desperate career in film. I'm putting money on the Real Girls: they'll have longer, more fulfilling careers and their film output will be more memorable.

So, what makes Real Girls fabulous? What gives them light-up-a-room star quality? There's an often retold (but true) tale of Marilyn Monroe walking incognito down a busy street, just another hausfrau in a headscarf, offering to demonstrate this very principle to her companion. She simply turned on her star persona and in a moment had that New York city street at a standstill. No grand gestures, no lighting, no make-up, just that switch in attitude.

So all you vicarious Cinderellas: go out and be fabulous.


Hear Anne live on the Kevyn Burger show on Thursdays featuring Knifestyles of the Rich & Famous.