Playboy, (ISSN 0032-1478), April, 1982, Volume 29, Number 4. Published Monthly by Playboy, Playboy Bldg., 919 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, Ill. 60611. Subscriptions: In the United States and its possessions, $48 for 36 issues, $34 for 24 issues, $18 for 12 issues Canada, $27 for 12 issues. Elsewhere, $31 for 12 issues. Allow 45 days for new subscriptions and renewals. Change of Address: Send both old and new addresses to Playboy, Post Office Box 2420, Boulder, Colorado 80302, and allow 45 days for change. Marketing: Ed Condon, director / direct marketing; Michael J. Murphy, circulation promotion director. Advertising: Henry W. Marks, advertising director; Harold Duchin, national sales manager; Michael Druckman, New York sales manager; Milt Kaplan, fashion advertising manager, 747 Third Avenue, New York, New York 10017; Chicago 60611, Russ Weller, associate advertising manager, 919 North Michigan Avenue; Troy, Michigan 48084, Jess Ballew, manager, 3001 W. Big Beaver Road; Los Angeles 90010, Stanley L. Perkins, manager, 4311 Wilshire Boulevard; San Francisco 94104, Tom Jones, manager, 417 Montgomery Street.
It is an interesting footnote to history that the Reagan years bring us such leftishly liberal-minded epics as Reds and, now, Missing (Universal). Not since the Oscar-winning Z, voted the Best Foreign Film of 1969, has writer-director Costa-Gavras made a movie so likely to succeed. In English and co-starring Jack Lemmon and Sissy Spacek, this angry and powerful political thriller is a very personal true-life drama about the search for a naïve young American, Charles Horman (sensitively played in flashbacks by John Shea), a would-be writer--just one of the expatriates who disappeared after the rightist military coup against the Allende regime in Chile almost a decade ago. Some names have been changed, though Missing specifically mentions Henry Kissinger. It's about a time when shadowy engineers of America's foreign policy were condoning the persecution, torture or murder of any longhaired radical Yankee youth with the temerity to mouth off about U. S. intervention in Latin America. These are blood brothers of the students who died at Kent State. The part Lemmon plays--his held-back emotion like a silent scream throughout--is that of a New York businessman, Ed Horman, who sets out to find his wayward son and begins to understand the boy better while battling the blank wall of a fascist Chilean bureaucracy upheld by American consular stooges, all masters of deceit. His partner in the search is Charles's distraught wife, a former flower child--a formidable portrayal by Spacek, anguished but irreverent, stubbornly courageous, quipping, "No shit, Sherlock," in response to false promises and official evasions. She already knows that America during the Nixon era was a can of worms before anyone ever heard of Watergate.
A couple of wise guys:As lead singer / leaper of The J. Geils Band, Peter Wolf, with band members Geils, Seth Justman, Magic Dick, Danny Klein and Stephen Bladd, has been inflicting his kinetic brand of musical mayhem on rock audiences for more than a decade. When Ed Naha tracked Wolf down, the band was beginning a nationwide tour to promote its LP "Freeze-Frame." Naha ushered the lone Wolf into a New York restaurant for a chat.
Carl Jefferson's noble effort to produce jazz recordings that endure has made his label, Concord Jazz, eminent. He's courted a wide range of musicians, from well-known to obscure, and given them studio time to play as they play in the real world. It's a setting free of pretension, hype and eccentricity. In a recent Concord release, there are three discs by guitarists, no two alike. Emily Remler, on Firefly, demonstrates that a young musician (she's 24), backed by a sinewy rhythm section (with Hank Jones on piano), need not sound derivative or naïve. Her playing is moody and economical on a variety of tunes, including a gorgeous ballad by Antonio Carlos Jobim, Look to the Sky. Cal Collins and his acoustic guitar are alone on Cross Country, a set that includes such diverse material as Hank Williams' lovely I Can't Help It, Autumn in New York and My Gal Sal. Collins' playing blends jazz and country (very hip country) in a witty, laid-back way. Jellybeans, on the other hand, is a sample of the forceful master at work--Barney Kessel. Joined by bassist Bob Maize and drummer Jimmie Smith, Kessel--who's been at it since the Forties--is as much in command as ever. His work is smooth, effortless, soaring; when he plays Shiny Stockings, he can sound like Count Basie's band and its soloists.
Reeling and Rocking: The George Harrison--Monty Python movie partnership continues with a new film, about women in prison, called Scrubbers. Here's what Terry Gilliam has to say about the Harrison-Python relationship: "George might criticize my work, but he doesn't try to control it. I'm sure my response would be, 'Well, I didn't like all the cuts on your last album, either.' "... Will Diana Ross go topless in her upcoming film about the life of singer-dancer Josephine Baker? Baker had a famous number in which she wore only a skirt made of bananas.... Barry Gibb has been signed to make his dramatic acting debut as Lord Byron. You'll have to wait till 1983 for that treat.... Actor Gregory Harrison, who plays Gonzo on TV's Trapper John, M.D., really wants to play Jim Morrison in a movie about the Doors, even if the rest of the movie world wants John Travolta to do it.... Now we hear that Bobby Darin's mother will participate in the casting of the movie about his life and will help pick the actor who will play her late son.... Earth, Wind and Fire, who made their screen bow in the totally awful Sgt. Pepper movie, are thinking of trying again. But this time, Maurice White says, "the sound track will be for a film we're involved in." Keep your eyes open for more news on that.... Marianne Faithfull has Completed a three-song conceptual video for Island Records. The video includes tracks from Dangerous Acquaintances as well as the reading (by Marianne) of a letter from the 18th Century novel that inspired the album title.
John Cheever has written a perfect little book. Oh What a Paradise It Seems (Knopf) does in 100 pages what many longer works are unable to do: It elegantly and powerfully moves us. Sears is an old man who loves to skate and saves the pond where he does it from polluters. He has an affair with a much younger woman, is jilted and surprises himself by taking up briefly with her elevator man. We also learn about some other people who live around the pond, whose stories form a kind of muffler around this particular slice of life. Cheever's at full stride here; and it is a measure of his considerable artistry that he chose to take a few small and beautiful steps rather than take us the long way around.
Idol gossip: Lily Tomlin has been tagged to star in United Artists' Illegitimate, a $6,000,000 comedy about a head nurse at a New York City funny farm and her involvement with the obsessions, compulsions and neuroses of her patients. Manhattan's renowned Bellevue Hospital is being sought as the principal location for filming, which is set to commence this spring.... "For once, I get to play a straight part," says Olivia Newton-John of her current role in Kangaroo, an Australian production co-starring Bryan(Breaker Morant)Brown. The Aussie actress/singer plays an ordinary housewife in this film adaptation of a D. H. Lawrence story concerning a downunder underground movement of the Twenties and Thirties.... Jerry lewis and Madeline Kahn will top-line Slapstick, based on Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.'s, 1976 best seller. Both stars will play dual roles-- as brother and sister and their parents. Word has it the brother part will require Lewis to be 15 years old and more than seven feet tall, which could qualify the flick for a special-effects Oscar nomination if they pull it off.... Says director John(Whose Life Is It Anyway?)Badham of his latest film, Blue Thunder, starring Roy Scheider: "Roy will play a helicopter pilot with the L.A.P.D., but this is not your standard sky-borne adventure as seen on TV. When you consider that we're only a couple of years away from 1984 ... well, call this a slightly paranoid political thriller."
I didn't really learn to swear until Sergeant Danny Gross, my Marine Corps drill instructor, taught me. He could surely use the language. He said I was a pinheaded, no-brained, foreskin-chewing, pogey-bait maggot, lower than worm life, and if I ever got out of boot camp it would be either in a hearse or in skirts, because I certainly didn't have the makings of a Marine.
The current hot topics of conversation in France have little to do with the new Socialist government and a lot to do with fashion and travel. Frenchmen are concentrating on the miniskirted legs of Frenchwomen, who, in turn, are gazing at the supertight leather jeans that are the current male-fashion craze in Paris. Meanwhile, both sexes are mesmerized by the fastest train in the world, the Train à Grande Vitesse, which has just begun operating between Paris and Lyons.
Maybe it's a pattern, maybe it's me. The last few women I've dated have been very vocal about what pleases them. One could come only by touching herself. Another had to have a vibrator present. I'm currently seeing a woman who has such distinct ideas about sex. For one thing, she prefers that I come first. She will then rub against me with gentle motions until she comes, as I lose my erection. During oral sex, she does not like me to flick my tongue or aggressively stimulate her; she will move against my tongue until she comes, treating her clitoris as a tiny penis. I feel stymied. None of the moves I thought I had down pat seems to work with this woman. This is not the way I heard it should be. I keep asking myself: "What did you do for her?" What would you do in this situation?--N. B., Chicago, Illinois.
Ever since Erica Jong wrote Fear of Flying, the idea of making love with an improper stranger has teased the imagination of both men and women. We decided to ask the Playmates if this popular fantasy was one of theirs.
Ronald Reagan's Economic Recovery Tax Act of 1981 may have reduced the "marriage penalty," but it didn't do much for people living together. Just how taxing that relationship is depends on the state in which you live. Not long ago, in North Carolina, a representative of that terrorist organization the IRS disallowed a dependency deduction for a 21-year-old woman living with a taxpayer who was assessed a $128 tax deficiency. The disallowance was based on the IRS's conclusion that the relationship between the taxpayer and the young woman violated the North Carolina law prohibiting lewd-and-lascivious cohabitation. After losing in the tax court, the taxpayer appealed to the United States Court of Appeals, where he lost again. In its unfavorable ruling, the Court began by saying that the United States Supreme Court has traditionally believed that the regulation of marriage and domestic affairs (although not of affairs) was best left to the individual states. So, in applying the tax laws, the IRS defers to state laws in domestic matters. The appeals court felt that the intention of the North Carolina law, when read with the Internal Revenue Code, was to disallow a dependency deduction for the "partner " of a taxpayer when the people were living together in violation of the laws of the state in which they live.
Some time before New York City's mayoral election last fall, New Yorkers were treated to a widely publicized press photo. Hizzoner Ed Koch was seen loping across the Egyptian desert astride a camel, his famous smile framed by a burnoose fluttering in the wind--indeed, looking for all the world like Koch of Arabia. Shortly thereafter, while campaigning for re-election, Koch made an appearance at the Central Park zoo and reporters wanted to know about his bynow famous ride. A TV reporter asked if hizzoner would now consider repeating the stunt, only this time with a nearby caged Bengal tiger. Koch paused, looked for an instant at the animal and then turned back, his smile still in place. "The mayor is not a coward," he intoned. "But neither is the mayor a schmuck!"
Robert Towne is taking a personal gamble with his new movie, Personal Best. Long known as the screenwriter of such films as Chinatown (for which he won an Oscar) and Shampoo (which he co-wrote with close friend Warren Beatty) and for his often unheralded work as a script doctor (he performed last-minute surgery on The Godfather and Bonnie and Clyde, among others), Towne has now turned to directing. Personal Best, based on his own script, captures the competitive and sometimes erotic world of women's athletics, focusing with candor on the triumphs and defeats--both on the track and off--of two young women training for the Olympics. Writer Rex McGee met with Towne several times during the filming: "Towne often seemed frantic--as befits any director, particularly a first-time one. Even when he sat down in his office and put on a Rickie Lee Jones album, the tension of the experience still came through."
It began, interestingly enough, when writer-director Robert Towne saw a picture in a magazine of Mariel Hemingway jumping on a trampoline. He was looking for someone to star in his production of Personal Best, and he was convinced that acting talents were not enough to bring off the role. "Films about athletes have never really captured what athletics is truly about--which is movement," he explained. "And I'd been told that Mariel was a cross-country skier and a good athlete."
I don't go to bars much. I don't even like most bars. Still, every now and then, like tonight, I'll want to put down a few drinks after work, to fortify myself for life in the haven of domestic tranquillity I call home. And I do know one fairly decent place, on a shady side street near the institute and the museum. It's quiet, dim enough to avoid the glare but not so dim as to become Hernando's Hideaway, drawing a clientele of professional people and technical people, with a scattering of footsore tourists.
Playboy's Spring and Summer Fashion Forecast, Part II
In march, Part I of our Spring and Summer Fashion Forecast focused on what's new in warm-weather suits and sport coats. This month, we've returned to the designer drawing board for Part II--a look at coming trends and colorful innovations in casualwear. While the color white has always had it made in the shade come the hot months, this year menswear designers have rediscovered the tennis set's favorite hue and are serving up a volley of eye-catching styles. The classic tennis sweater has also bounced back for a rematch, but its solid-white background has been replaced by shades that have a bit more sock to them. The look is especially effective when teamed with white shorts. Turning to fabrics, cotton, in styles ranging from sheet-weight slacks to duck-cloth out-jackets, has proved to be a material asset not only for its coolness but because there's a trend back to natural fibers over synthetics, especially in the summer months.
Tom lasorda wants to know if I'd like to join him on a rapid run to San Francisco. It is twilight time in Los Angeles, and he has already presided at a press conference for Fernando Valenzuela and opened a mobile-home show behind the center-field stands at Dodger Stadium.
You said you were a Libra on the cusp of Scorpio," the girl told the fellow, surveying him with a smile as they left a bar for his apartment, "but right now you look more like a Taurus with penis rising."
<p>One Wall of Judge Fred Biery's courtroom was fitted with picture windows, and across the plaza I could see Alamo Bail Bonds and Ace Bail Bonds and the dark, sharp-featured Indians shuffling to and fro in a Texas heat that made the whole scene shimmer as if it were painted upon the surface of a pond.</p>
Whenever a government seeks to expand social controls beyond acceptable bounds, it must first create the illusion of a danger so grave that spectacular and unorthodox measures are seen by the middle classes as vital to their protection.
In the early Seventies, the National Commission on Marijuana and Drug Abuse undertook the most comprehensive research survey of marijuana ever attempted. The commission ultimately found that, in the words of one of its members, "what we have done in this country is create a Drug-Abuse Industrial Complex, a new growth industry that spends more than a billion dollars a year and does not have eradication of the drug problem or even lessening it as its primary goal."
I Practiced tattooing in my grade school days in Minnesota, using classroom pen and inkwell, charging fellow students five cents an image. Years later, tattoos are much in evidence. Last year, I saw them in the Maud Adams/Bruce Dern movie, on the Rolling Stones' album Tattoo You and--I discovered--on Cher's shapely body. Backstage after a Las Vegas performance, I complimented Cher on a fine tattoo on her left ankle and she revealed a more personal example--a delicate tiger lily on her lower torso. She told me she would like to have modeled for Modigliani, but, as she assumed a classical pose, I was reminded of Botticelli's elegant Venus.
Something has happened to our Georgia peach, Henriette Allais, since we first saw her. That was in March 1980, in the centerfold of our favorite magazine. As Miss March, she conjured up visions of Scarlett O'Hara: fiery, sensuous, with more than a hint of Dixie in her voice. But that was two years ago. When we saw her again recently, there were changes. The fire and sensuousness remained, but there was more strength, more self-assurance, more vision. The accent had taken on a definite foreign tone that gave a clue to her transformation. For the past year and a half, Henriette has worked, played and grown in Paris. She chucked everything for the modeling game and leaped in headfirst. Paris welcomed her with open arms. Before long, Henriette was one of the busiest models in the City of Light. That's no mean feat; the number of girls trying to make it there is legion. But if, like Henriette, you're chosen, there's nowhere to go but up. "Paris is the best place to get a good portfolio together," she declares. "The competition is very stiff. About 60 percent of the models are American girls. The French photographers like them because they are big and tall. The reason I've been so successful is that they can't categorize my look. It's so changeable. I can go from totally innocent to totally sophisticated to totally sexy." A girl who can convey sexiness with her body is gold in Paris, whether she's on the runway or featured in product ads, fashion or creative photography. For the French audience, inhibition is out and libido is in. "I've seen some of the most beautiful and sensuous commercials ever on prime-time television," Henriette says. "If you go for an audition, it's common to be asked if you mind showing your breasts." The Gallic penchant for the erotic is quite all right with Henriette. "I don't feel at all inhibited about being sexy," she says. "There are many good photographers in the U. S., but they are limited in what they can shoot. They get locked into formulas. And, after all, it's 1982. Women have got to stop the cheesecake and start being more seductive." What's the difference? "It's mostly in the eyes," Henriette says. "For instance, I like to laugh, but not when I'm trying to seduce someone. To get the proper look, you have to use your eyes, actually talk with them." Being a sought-after model can play havoc with one's private life, but Henriette has it under control. "When I left the South, I found that things were very different in the big cities, where people ask you how much money you have and what kind of car you drive. I don't care about that stuff. I could be a millionairess by now with all the offers I've gotten. People want you to go with them on their yachts or to be their mistress. I turn them down because I don't want to be held down. Even in my marriage, I don't like that. If my husband feels he has to get away, he goes, and the same for me. It took me a long time to get out of the trap of being in love with someone and thinking he had to be there all the time. You just can't own another person. It's not fair. It's not human."
When was the last time you bought a record that wasn't warped? And at $8.98, too! Someday, the record biz will get its house in order. Meanwhile, the creative end of the industry has been peppy, even funny, this year. The Go-Go's and Bow Wow Wow made us wanna go back to high school just so we could drop out. The high-endurance Stones, Kinks, J. Geils Band and Hall and Oates put out extraordinary albums and shows, while The Pretenders, The Cars, Tom Petty and Stevie Nicks all helped Beethoven roll over this year. For the word on how our readers saw it, check out our Music Poll results on page 218. For the way we saw it, just turn the page.
James Woods has made a career of playing some of the more offbeat characters in recent films. He was the sociopathic killer in "The Onion Field," the doomed German-Jewish artist in "Holocaust," the freaked-out Vietnam veteran in "Eyewitness" and will be the cult deprogrammer in the forthcoming "Captured." Some critics say Woods, 34, is the new De Niro, the new Pacino--an intense actor capable of playing an enormous variety of roles, each one of them different, each one complete. To find out more about him, we sent out interviewer Claudia Dreifus. "Jimmy Woods is fast-talking, glib and smart," Dreifus reports. "He's one man Who is really clear on Who he is and what he does."
Sheeeeit! she's A-Busted down! we's gonna miss th' Demolition Derby!Thet engine ain't been th' Same since sump done banged th' Front end inta Dil McBun's Cow!Tha's A Dang Lie! Thet Heifer Don' banged inta me!Ain't thet Right, paw?
If you want to live a long life, you should make sure that you're born a woman. Or--if born a man--you should have your testicles removed as early as possible. In 1969, James B. Hamilton and Gordon E. Mestler of the Downstate Medical Center in Brooklyn showed that only castrated men--on average--live as long as women. But for every year after birth that castration is delayed, there is a corresponding shrink in lifespan of about three months and 11 days.
They came from outer space, from worlds in the future ... to become legendary superstars right here in our galaxy. Yes, all of the remarkable robots pictured here have appeared in major TV and movie productions during the past 55 years--but when? Can you guess in what order they made their stellar debuts on earth?
This may be an electronic age of Aquarius we're living in, but all that eye- and ear-boggling equipment spilling from the shelves of audio/video shops has spawned another problem. What do you do with the cassettes and cartridges that seem to collect around your gear like iron filings on a magnet? Fortunately, the same question has occurred to a number of manufacturers and the result is a proliferation of good-looking cabinetwork for keeping software nearby but out of sight. Some storage facilities are stationary, others pivot on a base; and there's a leather cassette wallet, too; for taking sounds out of the cabinet and on the road. Let's hear it for neatness.
Back in the Thirties, Clark Gable took off his shirt to reveal bare skin in the film It Happened One Night and suddenly every guy in the country went under-shirtless overnight. Now we have female reporters in the locker room and--guess what?--the men's underwear market has responded with drawers full of styles that are so good-looking we may all become male strippers. Further-more, just as today's trousers range from skintight jeans to double-pleated slacks, so underwear is broadening out with looks that stretch from bikini briefs to full-cut boxers. Interesting colors, patterns and fabrics (knits for the shorter briefs; wovens for the full cuts) further underscore the desire to look your very best--even when caught with your pants down. --David Platt
Reset your thinking, guys, if your watch is still just paying homage to Father Time. With the invention of microchip circuitry, you can now tote a timepiece that whistles Dixie or announces the hour in a soft, clear voice or lets you set 'em up in the other alley for a mini bowling match or repel hordes of alien space attackers-- all right on your wrist. Many watches, in fact, mix their blessings by offering a variety of functions from scorekeeper to clock-watching nudge--all in one package. (The Omni Voice Master will urge you to "please hurry" every five minutes if you ignore its alarm.) Best of all, you don't need to stick up a bank or take out a second mortgage to pay for one of these little wonders, as all those pictured here clock in at less than $200. Bong!