It's shaping up to be an annus horribilis for American Catholicism. During the past months, allegations of child abuse and sex with minors involving priests have driven the ensuing scandal from the confessional to the courts. Church watcher and New York Daily News Deputy City Editor Charles M. Sennott exorcises the wolves in shepherds' clothing in Sins of the Fathers. From the sacred to the profane: Justice Antonin Scalia represents the highest secular authority in the country—the Supreme Court. He's also one of the toughest guys ever to don a black dress. So why isn't he smiling? Joe Morgenstern does him justice in a Playboy Profile, Scalia the Terrible.
Playboy, (ISSN 0032-1478), July 1993, Volume 40, Number 7. Published Monthly by Playboy, 680 North Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60611. Subscriptions: $29.97 for 12 issues. U.S. Canada, $43.97 for 12 issues. All other foreign, $45 U.S. currency only for new and renewal orders and change of address. Send to Playboy subscriptions, P.O. Box 2007, Harlan, Iowa 51537-4007. Please allow 6-8 weeks for processing. For change of address, send new and old addresses and allow 45 days for change. Postmaster: Send form 3579 to Playboy, P.O. Box 2007, Harlan, Iowa 51537-4007. Advertising: New York: 747 Third Avenue, New York 10017; Chicago: 680 North Lake Shore Drive, Chicago 60611; West Coast: 8560 Sunset Boulevard West Hollywood, CA 90069; Metropolitan publishers representatives, Inc.; Atlanta: 3017 Piedmont Road NE, Suite 100, Atlanta, GA 30305; Miami: 2500 South Dixie Highway, Miami, FL 33133; Tampa: 3016 Mason Place, Tampa, FL 33629.
Successful best-selling novelists have a way of repeating themselves. It is obviously a smart strategy to please the readers who put you on the lists by giving them more of what they like. But stylistic repetition can establish a formula from which some writers never diverge.
Readers of Virginia Woolf's 1928 novel know that to make any movie version of Orlando (Sony Classics) is an act of daring. All the more credit to British adapter and director Sally Potter for reworking Woolf's fanciful tale. It's a witty, wondrous art film about a character whose life story lasts 400 years and involves a sex change from male to female. Orlando recaps centuries of English history with gender-bending aplomb. Actress Tilda Swinton manages to be both androgynous and seductive as Orlando, a young man who wakes up as a woman one 18th century day and dryly addresses the camera to say: "Same person, no difference at all—just a different sex." Quentin Crisp, in drag, plays Queen Elizabeth I and takes time to fondle Orlando, who is clearly more interested in a worldly Russian beauty named Sasha (Charlotte Valandrey). Later, in Victorian England, the female Orlando rides off on horseback with a swashbuckling American adventurer (played dashingly by Billy Zane). At the brainteasing climax of his/her career as a nobleman, poet, foreign ambassador, lover, author and mother, Orlando shows up whizzing through modern London astride a motorcycle. Familiarity with the book may help to explain it all. But don't bet on it, just go for it. Questions about life, love, sexual identity and self-discovery are scattered like confetti through Potter's vibrant Orlando—a cinematic somersault of spectacular dimensions. [rating]4 bunnies[/rating]
He is not your usual Hollywood hunk, but he certainly is happening. At 24, Robert Sean Leonard has three movies in release—playing a skeptical young Nazi in Swing Kids, a yuppie stockbroker in Married to It and the romantic Claudio in Kenneth Branagh's new Much Ado About Nothing. This fall he will also appear briefly but notably as the son of Jeremy Irons in Martin Scorsese's The Age of Innocence. "If it hadn't been for Dead Poets Society, though, I wouldn't be where I am," says Leonard, best remembered by audiences as the sensitive student in that Robin Williams hit.
When he switches on the VCR, veteran stand-up comic Robert Klein likes to laugh—a lot. "I have a very large video collection," says the host of E! Channel's Stand-Up/Sit-Down Comedy show, "and the tapes I take off the shelf again and again are the films of W. C. Fields and the Marx Brothers." Klein is also inspired by the early works of Jerry Lewis and the antics of Harold Lloyd, Charlie Chaplin and Laurel and Hardy. "Then there's Gleason in the Honeymooners and Silvers in Bilko," he adds. Nothing from this era, Bob? "The only contemporary movies I have are the Godfathers—the first two. I'm specifically omitting Part Three. Coppola and Mario Puzo must have played a lot of tennis during that one."
Facets Video's African-American Video Catalog includes more than 800 titles—from Oscar Micheaux's silent gems to civil rights documentaries. Call 800-331-6197 for a free copy.... What do Superman, Fritz the Cat and Zippy the Pinhead have in common? They're all headliners in Pacific Arts' Comic Book Confidential ($14.95), a videode to 60 years of the comic-book industry. Best segment: the attempted cleanups by Fifties censors.... From the award-winning team of Faith and John Hubley comes Art and Jazz in Animation, the 12-film centerpiece of The Hubley Collection (Lightyear). The audiovisual odyssey combines fine art with the musical magic of such masters as Quincy Jones, Ella Fitzgerald and Dizzy Gillespie. Four tapes, $60 each.
Happy days are here again? Apparently: Doris Day has begun popping up on disc. MGM/UA has issued a deluxe letterbox edition of her 1966 romantic farce, The Glass Bottom Boat, while MCA/Universal's Pillow Talk (1959) replays Day's first—and best—teaming with Rock Hudson.... Fresh from the rockumentary beat, a pair from Warner Reprise: TheGreat Rock 'n' Roll Swindle, Julien Temple's 1980 chronicle of the Sex Pistols, and Ray Charles: The Genius of Soul, further proof that a man is more than the sum of his diet Pepsi spots.... This month's hot collectible: early Bond on disc (Dr. No, From Russia with Love and Goldfinger)—but not the packages now available from Voyager and Pioneer. The real find is Voyager's original release of this 007 threesome—complete with trailers, stills, spoofs and a roundtable chat track with the films' creators—that was allegedly nixed by Bond flick producer Cubby Broccoli. (Seems Cubby didn't cotton to comments about Lotte Lenya's sex life or Sean Connery's expanding gut.) The disc is said to be circulating through the underground market for about 500 bucks.
Jill thought she was getting married to Alan this weekend. She got the dress and the license. She told everyone—her hairdresser, her cousins, all her ex-boyfriends. It was to be a small, semi-spur-of-the-moment wedding, but she was excited.
A few years ago most of the women I dated were reluctant to have casual sex. Now many are quite willing. Has casual sex made a comeback? Or am I better at seduction than I used to be?—A. R., East Meadow, New York.
A less charitable person might argue that the knee-jerk, bleeding-heart liberals demanding more gun control are trying to make firearms the scapegoat for the failure of their own social policies. But that wouldn't be fair to the progun reactionaries whose political policies created a lot of those social problems in the first place.
Looking for an argument? Try gun control. Just make sure you don't take the wrong side in the wrong company or you might get your face blown off. Where guns are concerned, logic is dead and panic rules.
"Leftists and countercultural types were attracted to pornography because there is something deeply subversive about the explicit display of sex. Sex strips away identities it takes a lifetime to build. A naked, aroused man is not a brain surgeon or a university president or a Methodist bishop. He is an animal with an erection."—John Hubner, in Bottom Feeders, Discussing the appeal of Pornography
If you haven't already caught Silverlake Life: The View from Here, released by Zeitgeist in more than three dozen cities since its prizewinning stint at Utah's Sundance Film Festival in January, you should. The movie will have its TV debut as the season premiere of PBS's P.O.V. (Point of View) on June 15. This film is a harrowing, intensely personal AIDS documentary that was honored at the festival with a Grand Jury Prize and a $5000 Freedom of Expression Award from the Playboy Foundation for its treatment of "an issue of social concern."
It is said that a great baseball player can do five things well. He can run, throw, field, hit for average and hit for power. Barry Bonds is five for five, which is why in the next six years he will earn $42 million more than the president of the United States. But to many fans, Bonds also exemplifies other qualities: greed, arrogance and the bombast that makes today's jocks seem less heroic than those of the past.
The Young Catholic cleric could see it coming. The Church was out of touch with the few diehards who still attended Sunday Mass. He had always believed his Church was a moral voice, an ancient tradition, a righteous institution. But he couldn't ignore the decadence that was cracking the sacred structure upon which he had built his life.
Every actor fears dying—on-stage, on-screen or in real life. But playing the title corpse in Weekend at Bernie's was the best career move I've ever made. The 1989 movie grossed $35 million and turned Bernie into the most popular dead entertainer since Elvis.
This is a true story about love and witchcraft and the craziness one encounters when one mucks about with matters of the heart and tampers with things one cannot possibly hope to comprehend. It is a story that does not reflect particularly well on me, but that's never stopped me in the past.
Want to test the limits of the latest men's swimwear and have an outrageous time, too? Then head for the deep blue yonder, as we did this month, and hop aboard a personal watercraft. That's industry lingo for a jet-ski-type machine. You'll find that the best swim trunks for action are made of quick-drying cotton or nylon Supplex. For comfort, look for mid-thigh lengths (any shorter and the suit will ride faster than you), as well as elastic drawstring waistbands and mesh liners. As with the watercraft (check Playboy's Guide to Wave Jumping on page 157), colors are bold, bright and set to get wet.
Leisa Sheridan is trying to tell her life story, but there's a problem—and he's making a lot of noise. Montana, a six-month-old Moluccan cockatoo named for San Francisco 49ers quarterback Joe Montana, paces the perch in his cage, broadcasting discontent and sounding like a child crying for his mom. The white bird is the newest member of a pampered menagerie in Leisa's large three-bedroom apartment in the San Fernando Valley. "I bottle-fed him when he was a baby," she says, taking him out of his birdcage and settling back on the couch with him. Montana tucks his beak under her chin and wiggles his way into the nest of golden curls that falls below Leisa's shoulders. She strokes his feathers and in a moment he is perfectly still. "Now he's happy," she says. "He's asleep." Leisa's collection also includes a parakeet named Dewey, a cat named Melrose and a year-old pup named Bear, who's one part shepherd, three parts wolf. Bear hangs out by the backyard pool, giving Leisa, for whom tanning is a vocation, the kind of privacy not even a cinder-block fence and thick shrubbery can provide. He's the big guy (opposite) keeping strangers at bay. "Nobody messes with me when I'm with Bear," says Leisa. For a girl who grew up in the safety of Carmel, California, a hundred pounds of wolf dog is a comfort in greater Los Angeles. Leisa knows her looks cause a stir: Witness the spring day she and a Playboy photo crew were taking pictures on a trendy street in West Hollywood. Out from restaurants and boutiques swarmed men of all ages brandishing calling cards, begging to buy her dinner, promising small parts in movies. The memory makes her laugh. "A lot of the people you meet in L.A. are so full of it. They flatter you and tell you all the things they're going to do for you. When people act like that, I become introverted. I do a lot of listening until I know what someone's about." Lately, Leisa has heard encouraging words from the photographers and stylists who worked with her on the pictures on these pages. Although she considered becoming a model when she moved to Los Angeles four years ago, she never actively pursued the career until the day she stopped by our Sunset Boulevard studio to pose for test pictures. Chosen from among thousands of Playmate wanna-bes, Miss July admits she was nervous at the start of her photo shoot. "Being an amateur, I was a little intimidated," she says. "I don't have a problem with nudity, but at the beginning I sat there thinking, The crew should be naked, too! You get past that, though. Everyone was so patient and understanding. This experience has given me a lot of confidence." For the moment, Leisa plans to "wait and see where this is going to take me. I know my foot's in the door to something. I just don't know what that something is yet." She can entertain herself for days on end at home with her animals. When that gets old, she piles the lot of them into her Range Rover, drops them at the vet and takes off for the beach or a patch of desert. In the past few years she has jet-skied in Las Vegas, Palm Springs and on Lake Havasu, Arizona. She has sunned and bodysurfed in Jamaica, the Bahamas and Hawaii. That's five trips to Hawaii, but who's counting? "Travel is my passion," she says. "I love spontaneity. The best thing a man can say to me is, 'Hey, want to go to Jamaica tonight?' All I need is an hour and I'm gone."
Artie, the producer of "The Larry Sanders Show," steers Garry Shandling's fictional late-night star with the hand of a veteran. Playing Artie is the veteran actor Rip Torn. Torn, perhaps the country's busiest—though least appreciated—actor, gives the talk-show parody a jolt of smarts with experience gleaned from years in theater, movies and television.
You Believe her or you don't. There is no middle ground on Lawrencia "Bambi" Bembenek, the ex-blonde, ex-Bunny, ex-cop from Milwaukee who, in May 1981, either murdered or didn't murder her then-husband's ex-wife. You are her acolyte or her accuser. She is either a wronged innocent or a vicious murderer, ardent feminist or femme fatale, helpless repository of other people's desires or Svengali, media victim or media manipulator.
Think of the Clinton administration as an expanding universe created by last November's big bang that is steadily spawning more programs, more ideas and more experiments, driven by the conviction that an active executive and a venturesome Congress can change the nation's course. Now train the telescope of your mind on the Supreme Court, where you'll find eight stars of widely varying magnitude, plus Antonin Scalia in a galaxy all his own.
You have to dress right for lobster fishing in Maine in late November. You need the entire outfit, starting with a one-piece insulated Dickies work suit from Reny's house of bargains in Camden, $39.99. Under the Dickies, a full set of thermals, flannel shirt and oiled wool sweater. Oilskin pants and seaboots. Thick socks, two pairs of gloves and a woolen hat pulled down over the ears.
Motorcycle riders know there's nothing as exhilarating as rolling on the power down a smooth straightaway or leaning their machine into a long, sweeping curve. Add sun and surf to either scenario and you'll understand why personal watercraft have become the fastest-growing segment of the marine industry. Unlike powerboats, these small, maneuverable machines let you interact with the water, dragging a knee as you carve tight turns, grabbing big air as you jump waves or cranking into a rooster-tail spin. What's more, they're propelled by a high-pressure jet pump that enables them to operate in shallow water. You can use your watercraft with a partner to explore secluded backwaters, intimate coves and other tight spots that larger boats can't reach. Factor in the freedom of the water (no yellow line on this highway) and you have the perfect summer fun machine. Here's what you need to know to get your feet wet.
Playboy expands your purchasing power by providing a list of retailers and manufacturers you can contact for information on where to find this month's merchandise. To buy the apparel and equipment shown on pages 22, 26, 88–93, 120–123, 157 and 173, check the listings below to find the stores nearest you.
It's been like listening to a Red Sox fan. We were told that 1993 was to be the year for high-definition television. Instead, it seems to be turning into another Bill Buckner bounce. In case you haven't heard, HDTV is the television system that's been under discussion since 1987. With it you get a movie-theater-like wide-screen television image and CD-quality sound. The only problem is that HDTV is currently on the disabled list.