Our Agenda this month involves international affairs of state. In front, up top and on the cover is zesty Ginger Spice, a.k.a. Geri Halliwell, member of the tongue-in-cheeky Spice Girls. To date, Halliwell has pinched a royal ass and failed to curtsy before the Queen for fear of spilling out of her dress. She should know--in her pre-Spice days she was a nude model. The piquant pictorial Spice Girl (no clothes, no music!) is fresh Ginger.
Kevin Siers, a political cartoonist for The Charlotte Observer, was the first to see it. He put together the world's most sophisticated logo--the Playboy Rabbit Head--and the world's most powerful seal, that of the president of the U.S.
Playboy (ISSN 0032-1478), May 1998. Volume 45, Number 5, Published monthly by Playboy, 680 North Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60611. Subscriptions: U.S., $29.97 for 12 Issues 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: 730 fifth avenue, New York 10019 (212-261-5000); Chicago; 680 North Lake Shore Drive, Chicago 60611 (312-751-8000); West Coast: Sd Media, 2001 Wilshire Boulevard. Suite 200, Santa Monica, CA 90403 (310-264-7575); Southeast: Coleman & Bentz, Inc., 4651 Roswell Road NE, Atlanta. GA 30342 (404-256-3800); Boston: Northeast Media Sales, 8 Fanceuil hall marketplace. Boston 02109 (617-973-5050). For subscription inquiries, call 800-999-4438.
Track star Steve Prefontaine was favored to win a gold medal at the 1976 Olympic Games in Montreal, but he died in a 1975 auto accident. He was 24, a cocky and confident Oregon athlete with innate star power who had a volatile but rewarding relationship with his coach, Bill Bowerman. Originally Prefontaine's mentor at the University of Oregon, Bowerman went on to become an Olympic coach and develop the first Nike running shoe. Their story is recapped in Without Limits (Warner Bros.) by director Robert Towne. Billy Crudup plays "Pre," as he's called by his fans and friends, with Donald Sutherland on the money as the low-key, paternal coach. Nostalgic and inherently heart wrenching, Without Limits scores as poignant testimony to one man's integrity and guts and the unstoppable will to win. [rating]3 bunnies[/rating]
He was one of the original Ghostbusters more than a decade ago, then scored as the mentally backward handyman in The Hand That Rocks the Cradle. But Ernie Hudson, 52, recalls those box-office hits as no help to his career: "They didn't bring any work my way." Nowadays, Ernie is working nonstop, notably as the prison warden on Oz, a hot, hip series on HBO. He has more coming: as a minister in a New England town in A Stranger in the Kingdom, and as an introverted mass murderer in Bang. He'll also co-star with Pam Grier in Fakin' da Funk, a comedy. "I like it a lot. We're a married couple adopting a baby, and since our name is Lee, they think we're Chinese."
Voyager's Criterion Collection release of Monty Python's Life of Brian (1979, $60) is brought to new hilarity by commentary from the Pythonites themselves.... Warner's reissue of Billy Wilder's masterful Spirit of St. Louis (1957, $40) is finally in wide-screen with two trailers and Franz Waxman's memorable score in rich stereo. . . . Pioneer's Special Edition of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975, $120), packaged in a handsome book jacket, includes a brilliant 90-minute making-of documentary.
For a guy who makes his living eschewing the conventional, Politically Incorrect'sBill Maher is most comfortable with home videos that have track records. "I prefer movies like The Godfather," he says, "or Miller's Crossing or Some Like It Hot. I liked The Nutty Professor--the first one, though the second one was OK--and loved In the Line of Fire. Comedies have to be really good for me to rent them, because if you're watching one and you're not laughing, it's painful." Maher is also a fan of "big, kickass action films" such as Face/Off, "but only if they have good plots--not just blowing up shit. And I'm a sucker for schmaltzy stuff that makes you cry," he says. "I mean, I'll cry at anything. I think I cried at Ace Ventura."
Paul Robeson's accomplishments are innumerable--college football hero, law school graduate, Broadway star, concert singer and political activist. But in honor of his 100th birthday, Kino on Video focuses on his film work. The Paul Robeson Centennial Collection features four of the actor-activist's greatest productions, including the musicals Song of Freedom, Big Fella and Jericho, and Oscar Micheaux's 1924 silent, Body and Soul ($24.95 each). . . . That weird fad of the Nineties, fêng shui (the 3000-year-old Chinese discipline of object placement), has made it to home video. Nine Star Productions' Fêng Shui: Creating Environments for Success and Well-Being ($29.95) reveals, among other things, that angling your bed properly may improve your sex life, and finding that perfect power corner for your desk could bring the big bucks. Fêng shui grand master Lin Yun hosts.
Van Halen III (Warner Bros.) is the album Eddie Van Halen fans have been hoping for since 1984. Since that landmark album, Eddie had seemingly become a sideman, dropping a few dazzling lines into Sammy Hagar's party-hardy synthesizer pop. After Van Halen's brief reunion with David Lee Roth went sour, Sammy also left the band. Eddie has taken advantage of these changes to reinvent himself. His guitar is once again center stage on Fire in the Hole and From Afar, which include fresh and often spectacular multiple solos. Without You, the first single, is tame considering what's to come. One I Want has the rhythmic fire of Panama, while the incendiary instrumental intro to Ballot or the Bullet recalls the pyrotechnics of Eruption. The big question is how fans will react to the new vocalist, Gary Cherone. Cherone sounds uncannily like Hagar, only with less bluster. His lyricism is his strongest contribution, a complement to Eddie's more focused playing. It takes guts for a 41-year-old mainstream musician to give up the safe route and really challenge himself and his fans. Van Halen III shows Eddie pushing the envelope.
Puff Daddy's latest protégés, the Lox, made their national debut on We'll Always Love Big Poppa, a tribute to the Notorious B.I.G. The trio of David Styles, Sean Sheek Jacobs and Jason Jadakiss Phillips already have an underground rep in New York. Their debut, Money, Power & Respect (Bad Boy/Arista), will surely expand their appeal, as it features Puff's successful formula of recognizable samples, sung choruses and rhymes. If You Think I'm Jiggy takes up Rod Stewart's Da Ya Think I'm Sexy? My favorite is the title cut, which showcases a guest appearance by the irrepressible Lil' Kim.
From Adelaide, Australia, Superjesus plays rock and roll in a standard four-piece lineup: two guitars, bass and drums. The guitars roar, the bass and drums provide propulsion, and nobody's messing around with computers. And the band is really good on its debut album, Sumo (Warner Bros.). Maybe we have a new category: neo-alternative. Vocalist Sarah McLeod manages to hit the right notes and emotions without resorting to histrionics or to using sandpaper on her vocal cords. Her blend of earnestness and unsentimental reflection adds up to charm. Lead guitarist Chris Tennent can write, play and arrange both the killer riff and the stirring chord progression, of which there are often more than one per song.
Bill Withers is one of the more under-appreciated singer-songwriters of the Seventies. On several pop hits (Use Me, Lean on Me, Ain't No Sunshine, Grandma's Hands), Withers had a working-class, almost folk perspective on life that ran counter to the love-man flair of other African American singers. Moreover, Withers' strong suit was a melancholy sense of loss. Yet as his Live at Carnegie Hall (Columbia Legacy) illustrates, Withers' sadly reflective tales could be invigorating and pretty damn funky. Recorded in 1972 with an all-star band (including the brilliant drummer James Gadson), this 14-song set includes Withers' hits as well as many other wonderful tracks. Better Off Dead is the tale of a man contemplating suicide in the wake of a ruptured love affair. I Can't Write Left-Handed chronicles a failed friendship that culminates in a shooting. Hope She'll Be Happier is a look at a fractured marriage that suggests the narrator may have abused his wife. More like a country or blues writer, Withers revels in exploring life's darker moments. His voice is warm, forceful and direct.
It's amazing that there aren't more down-to-earth hip-hop albums like Common's One Day It'll All Make Sense (Relativity). Then again maybe it's amazing that there's even one--and that it will actually sell. The jaw-dropper? Retrospect for Life, featuring the Fugees' Lauryn Hill, about the emotional complexity of abortion.
Dock Boggs' music isn't folk, despite a preponderance of traditional songs on Country Blues (Revenant). This music is singular, visionary and dark. It is also some of the most powerful ever recorded. Boggs was a coal miner and banjo player from Kentucky and Virginia who recorded in the late Twenties, and he sings like a rattlesnake. His blues don't take the form's joyful side, so even Sugar Baby is sung in mourning. The murder ballad Pretty Polly becomes encyclopedic in its loathing. Boggs is consumed with resentment for all the comfort and pleasure he can't have. This is the voice of Appalachian misery--poor, depleted, proud to a righteous fault--the voice of a man with nothing to lose, a man dangerous to those who have more than he does. Odd, isn't it, that such misanthropy inspired this lovingly documented set, with extensive notes by Greil Marcus and folklorist Jon Pankake? But then, in Dock Boggs' world, you don't just take love where you find it, you have to go where it takes you.
The frenetic, soulful wailing of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan is only one of many styles of music from the Sufi spiritual tradition. A more contemplative example can be found on Mevlana: Music of the Whirling Dervishes (EMI/Hemisphere). This is the traditional vocal and instrumental music of the Sema that prompts the ecstatic dance of Turkish dervishes. The sound of the ney, a reed flute, alternates with vocal passages that have a serene and stately beauty.
No one can question Delbert McClinton's qualifications as an R&B singer. The Texas native cut his raspy chops playing harmonica with Lightnin' Hopkins and Joe Tex. But McClinton turns Nashville on its ear with One of the Fortunate Few (Rising Tide), a country album with soul. For starters, Mavis Staples delivers pleading backing vocals on the swampy Somebody to Love You, and B.B. King jumps in to provide piercing notes on Leap of Faith. The cresting gospel ballad Sending Me Angels includes Vince Gill on high harmony.
In 1966, just before his theme for Mission Impossible became famous, pianist Lalo Schifrin made the wildest classical-plus-jazz album ever. At 32 minutes, The Dissection and Reconstruction of Music From the Past as Performed by the Inmates of Lalo Schifrin's Demented Ensemble as a Tribute to the Memory of the Marquis de Sade, finally reissued on Verve, runs barely as long as its title. But it's a little-known gem. With witty juxtapositions of string quartet and avant-garde flute, Bach-era themes and boogaloo harpsichord, Schifrin really swings.
One nice thing about Shania Twain's Come On Over (Mercury) is that it obliterates the issue of authenticity. The Canadian-born beauty's 1995 Woman in Me has now sold 10 million units, outstripping all Nashville product this side of Garth Brooks'. But because its big ballads share more with Celine Dion than with Tammy Wynette, some challenged Twain's country bona fides. Since then she has opted for a pop makeover. Billed as a simple follow-up, Come On Over is in fact a far perkier album, a full hour of uptempo tunes, many with noncountry keyboard hooks. Authentic country it ain't; enticing it is. Feisty and ready for fun, Twain occasionally sounds willing to separate sex from romance, which is always a good way for a woman to gain male admirers. Yet she never seems like a pushover--an essential touch if she wants to keep them.
Did you ever wonder who that girl is on the cover of Bob Dylan's Freewheelin' album? In his new novel, The Rich Man's Table (Knopf), Scott Spencer imagines that she and Dylan had a son. Their kid is obsessed with piecing together his famous dad's story and getting him to own up to fatherhood. This thinly veiled story of Dylan's life is an intriguing satirical take on the meaning of fame. The absence of meaning is the subject of Douglas Coupland's Girlfriend in a Coma (Regan Books). (The title is cribbed from the song by the Smiths.) Narrated by a ghost (don't ask), the novel tells the tale of a woman who goes into a coma while pregnant in 1979 and wakes up with a teenage daughter in 1997. A novel about the end of the world, deftly and comically told, Girlfriend battles purposelessness with a sense of humor.
When man first scrawled pictures on cave walls, he was preoccupied with the ladies. Even a caveman would love these books. Jalaja Bonheim's Goddess (Stewart, Tabori & Chang) is a toast to the deities, illustrated with elegant, erotic paintings. A dark sensuality is explored in Meri Lao's Sirens: Symbols of Seduction (Park Street) as she traces the bewitching women who tempted Homer, Euripides, James Joyce and Yeats. Gifted storyteller Isabel Allende whips up aphrodisiac recipes, spells, incantations and anecdotes that will entice your lover in Aphrodite: A Memoir of the Senses (Harper Collins). In The Quest for Human Beauty (Norton), an illustrated tour of our preoccupation with physical beauty, Julian Robinson looks at piercing, tattooing and even wearing ties as he examines our desires for ritual in sexual attraction. Marco Glaviano's gorgeous collection of photographs of modern Sirens (Callaway), including Cindy Crawford, Stephanie Seymour, Paulina Porizkova, Claudia Schiffer, Eva Herzigova and Angie Everhart, lets you be a 20th century voyeur in your own cave.
Transplanting comedy from the stage to the page is big, though risky, business. There's no guarantee of crossover appeal. But even the most unlikely celebrity-authored humor books have become moneymakers for book publishers. High-profile funnymen such as Jerry Seinfeld, Chris Rock, Paul Reiser and Tim Allen have successfully tapped literature lite, thus inspiring many of their contemporaries to do likewise. Some of the most recent crop include:
Ever since Ray Bradbury appeared in our pages in the early Fifties, the magazine has been committed to science fiction. From the beginning, we've brought you the greats: Arthur C. Clarke, Harlan Ellison, Ursula K. Le Guin, Robert Silverberg, Kurt Vonnegut, Stephen King, Philip K. Dick, Lucius Shepard, Terry Bisson and--yes--Billy Crystal. Now their best work is collected in The Playboy Book of Science Fiction (Harper Prism), edited by Playboy Fiction Editor Alice K. Turner. From hard-core science fiction to the New Wave to cyberpunk, it's all here.
I live one block east of Chris Farley's condominium in Chicago, and I used to see him around town from time to time, though those were never pleasant occasions for me. Watching Farley glad-hand his way through a restaurant or bounce around a crowd in a bar mostly made me feel embarrassed for him.
A few months ago my husband and I invited his best friend into our bedroom and I was able to live out a fantasy of having two men at once. The problem is that I have fallen for his friend. He comes over quite often and the three of us watch Playboy TV. Sometimes we have too much to drink and we start flirting and talking dirty. I've told the friend that I go nuts every time I see him. But I don't want to hurt my husband or ruin their friendship. Our friend isn't candid with me, so I'm not sure what he thinks. I wonder if he's using me, because he and his wife don't get along. I wish we could return to being just friends, but it's hard to pretend that I don't want him.--R.R., Dallas, Texas
Military brass have always been marvelous at denying reality. The general in command of British troops on the Western front in World War One considered the machine gun a "much overrated weapon." It would, in his expert opinion, never replace the horse on the battlefield. Stupid as that line of thinking was, Sir Douglas Haig (yes, the British gave a knighthood to the old fool) continued to believe this nonsense even after 60,000 of his men were killed or wounded in a single day attacking dug-in machine guns across open ground. Generals are never quick to let facts get in the way of their convictions.
"I live by these. They are the office supply of the gods." Scott Adams is surrounded by a sea of Post-it notes--Post-its attached to Post-its attached to Post-its stuck onto his desk, computer monitor and the lamp above his work space in his home office, a white-walled room equipped with computers, audio equipment, weights and a pool table. As he does almost every day, Adams sits in front of his monitor, wading through upwards of 350 e-mail messages from readers of "Dilbert," his hugely popular comic strip. Besides the usual kudos and good-natured jabs, "Dilbert" fans often send Adams offbeat but true stories about their workdays. Particularly good anecdotes, potential comic-strip fodder, are scribbled onto Post-it notes.
With a small sense of restless regret I found myself back in the Lincoln Bedroom, pondering a night of highly interactive television with my newfound electronic friend, or perhaps reading something racy like Leaves of Grass. But no sooner had I flopped down, fully dressed, on the famously uncomfortable mattress than I felt something poking me insistently in the back. At first I thought I had maybe encountered a crystal wallaby from the Australian PM, or a Camembert Eiffel Tower from President Chirac, or perhaps the shell of a recently discarded intern. But upon closer examination, it turned out to be a small bouquet of flowers with an envelope attached that said "Read me."
They came from across the sea, armed with a couple of videos, five suitcases full of impossibly short skirts, a handful of infectious songs ("Tell me what you want, what you really, really want") and a slogan: girl power. Their reputation, promulgated across a great number of magazine covers, preceded them: They were the peppy, sexy new antidote to all those sullen, grungy boy bands that had come to dominate British pop music. These young women seemed primed for Stateside stardom by dint of the fact that their first three British singles hit number one. That the only previous acts to achieve this feat were Gerry & the Pacemakers, Frankie Goes to Hollywood, Jive Bunny & the Mastermixers and Robson & Jerome--a decidedly mixed batch--seems beside the point. These are the Spice Girls. Resistance is futile. They hit America running as fast as it's possible to run in platforms. They did lunches, dined with the right disc jockeys, visited the right radio stations and made fun of some of those people later. But at the time they bubbled, laughed, smiled and thanked everyone for playing their records. In Los Angeles they were delighted to learn that their pictures had been painted on the side of a large brick building on Melrose Avenue. So, between promotional chores, they hurried to the site to have their pictures taken. When they got there, they sadly watched their mural being replaced by a painting of David Bowie.
By the time my guns were cleaned and the dinner dishes were put away, it was night. I went upstairs to the spare bedroom that I've turned into an office, carrying a glass of wine. The office is lined on all sides with bookshelves, and between the two windows is a metal desk I picked up at a yard sale last summer. I flipped on the computer and dialed into the Mycroft-Online computer service.
What we are forever confronted with on the golf course is a never-ending battle between the id and the ego, between being aggressively carefree and being strategically cautious and rational. We find ourselves in a tug of war: Do we play conservatively and be good, predictably? Or do we smile at temptation, let go and gamble and, at least possibly, be great? What makes this complex game even more intriguing is that it is always played on an innocent-looking field of green hills and valleys, among ponds and streams, pines or palms. Or among pretty flowers, such as those bright-pink azaleas that line the fairways of Augusta National, the heavenly Georgia course where Tiger Woods returns this spring to defend his Masters crown. Woods, unquestionably the strongest and most mentally intense player in the game, experiences the toughest battle between id and ego, between carefree aggression and calm focus.
Perhaps it's the millennium and its promise of partying on a global scale that has made champagne the drink of the decade. In fact, the bubbly is so much in demand that some producers are conderned they may run out before the end of the century. Add another drinking trend--the return of the martini--and you have the ingredients for a major bash come December 31, 1999. If the martini is king of mixed drinks, the champagne cocktail is the queen. The original version is simple: Moisten a sugar cube with a few dashes of Angostura bitters, place it in the bottom of a champagne flute, carefully fill the glass with champagne and garnish with a lemon twist. The sugar makes the wine fizz, so be careful as you pour. Variations on the theme have been around almost as long as the original, and adding half an (concluded on page 152) Champagne (continued from page 83) ounce of cognac, Grand Marnier or Cointreau has become a common practice. The Bellini, made with champagne and white peach puree, is also a classic. But in the Nineties, when new, diverse products such as lemon rum, vanilla vodka, jalapeño tequila and citrus gin present a wide variety of unusual ingredients, professional bartenders and amateur mixologists are creating their own sparkling versions of the champagne cocktail.
If you believe the women's magazines, divorce filings and sitcoms, men are the most hapless lovers since, well, men. Women know our weak spot: We take pride in our sexual prowess, and to question our skills is always a shot below the belt. Women's magazines push articles such as "What Makes a Man Give More in Bed" (as if a woman has to ask twice). Piranhas on the Internet chuckle over "Why Cucumbers Are Better Than Men" or "40 Ways Men Fail in Bed." Even Mae West, who once claimed she liked two types of men (foreign and domestic), stooped to quip, "Some men are all right in their place, if they only knew the right places."
As a manager at a branch of Key Bank in Dayton, Ohio, Deanna Brooks, 24, advised patrons on their investments and savings plans. A few months ago she decided to change her life--to prove her fiscal and physical fitness to millions of Playboy patrons. Unfortunately, being Miss May has already cost Deanna her bank job. We commiserated with her over lunch at the Polo Lounge in Los Angeles' Beverly Hills Hotel.
It has been 15 years since we discovered Veronica Gamba on the set of Smokey and the Bandit III. "A woman said I looked like Natalie Wood and asked if I would pose for Playboy," she recalls. "I couldn't stop giggling." The Buenos Aires-born beauty had reservations about becoming a Playmate, but her mother talked her into it. "She said, 'Why not? You have a beautiful body."' Veronica's next role, Miss November 1983, was a hit, though she decided to forgo her acting career to raise daughter Harlie and son Nicholas. Today, the older, wiser and still beautiful (as seen on these pages) Miss Gamba is once again ready for her close-up. Her dream gig? "A woman on Melrose Place who seduces everyone," she says. Aaron Spelling, check your messages.
Bobby Cox looked like he had smelled something foul. His Atlanta Braves had lost again, their fifth October fold in seven years, and manager Cox knew why. It's "a crapshoot," he said of the postmodern postseason, three rounds of playoffs in which anything can happen. It happened again last fall. The Braves had trounced the second-place Florida Marlins in the National League East on their way to a 101-61 record, best in the game. But by finishing 92-70 Florida made the playoffs as a wild-card team. That meant a weeklong rematch in which Atlanta outpitched, outscored and outhit (.253 to .199) the Marlins -- and still lost.
Box-office star Burt Reynolds stole the show in October 1979 as only the second man (after Peter Sellers) to appear on the cover of Playboy. Caught in the act by photographer Mario Casilli, Burt and Playmate Gig Gangel spent much of the shoot goofing--and then Burt copped her ears for himself. Since then, our elite list of cover men has grown to include Steve Martin, Donald Trump, Dan Aykroyd. Jerry Seinfeld and Leslie Nielsen. All nice, but Burt's bunny is a classic.
Houston, we have a pager--or, rather, four of them that perform amazing meassaging feats. OK, they can't beep you on the moon, but they provide excellent ground service. All are alphanumeric (the only way to go, in our opinion), which means callers can send text messages along with their phone numbers. This combo comes in handy when you forget the name of the woman you gave your pager numbre to, but it also allows you to receive extra info on the fly, including news, sports scores and stock reports. Need to read and respond to e-mail and faxes from the road? New two-way paging devices with mini keyboards acn do that, as well as store phone numbers and schedules. Most models beep or vibrate, but some pagers will even play a tune. Fly Me to the Moon, anyone?
Last February the Star printed a story called "Bill and His Women." The tabloid reprinted the cover shot from our May 1992 issue to illustrate an article on indiscretion. Here she is, folks, Miss America 1982, Elizabeth Ward Gracen--a fresh look at some previously unpublished photos of the woman who made such an impression on President Clinton. When we ran our original pictorial, tabloids such as the Star were claiming that Clinton spent state funds on an affair with the former beauty queen. Gracen's response was a lesson to all who pry: "Basically, what the tabloids are asking me is, Have I slept with this person? I don't believe that's anyone's business. I have certain boundaries about what I choose to reveal about myself, and I respect other people's boundaries as well."
Growing up on the road with his actor-comedian parents Jerry Stiller and Anne Meara, Ben Stiller often watched six hours of television a day. He felt at home with "Bewitched" and "I Dream of Jeannie." He could recite every word of every episode of "SCTV." He was more familiar with Will Shatner than with Will Shakespeare. Eventually, Stiller learned to read, write and direct. Predisposed to a career in show business, he studied theater at UCLA for a year before opting out of college and heading home to New York, where he made his professional acting debut on Broadway in "The House of Blue Leaves." Stiller persuaded some cast members (including Swoosie Kurtz and Stockard Channing) to appear in a short comedy film he directed, "The Hustler of Money," a spoof of Martin Scorsese's "The Color of Money." The film aired on "Saturday Night Live," and Stiller was soon hired as a featured player and apprentice writer. After an unhappy five-week stint, Stiller left the show and created "The Ben Stiller Show" for MTV. That show moved to Fox, where it won an Emmy for comedy writing but flopped in the ratings. It was during the series' run that Stiller established his on-going comedic collaboration with Janeane Garofalo. They shared the big screen with Winona Ryder in Stiller's feature-length motion picture directorial debut, "Reality Bites." Stiller followed with a leading role in the hit "Flirting With Disaster," then turned director again for the controversial $40 million Jim Carrey film "The Cable Guy." Now Stiller is back to acting, with starring roles in "Zero Effect" opposite Bill Pullman and "Permanent Midnight," based on Jerry Stahl's dark Hollywood memoir. Stiller is working on an adaptation of Budd Schulberg's unrepentant Hollywood novel "What Makes Sammy Run?" which he hopes to direct and star in.
Last year Hollywood released two movies based on Truman Capote's books "Other Voices, Other Rooms" and "The Grass Harp." CBS did a two-part miniseries of "In Cold Blood" (which was originally made into a movie in 1967). CBS remade his "A Christmas Memory." And Doubleday published an oral biography of Capote, edited by George Plimpton. The last person to interview Capote, who died in Los Angeles on August 25, 1984, was Playboy's Lawrence Grobel. Then, as always, Truman had the last word.
Below is a list of retailers and manufacturers you can contact for information on where to find this month's merchandise. To purchase the apparel and equipment shown on pages 20, 33, 35, 37, 86--89, 108--111, 126--127 and 171, check the listings below to find the stores nearest you.
mitch, 35 "Here's a move that always works for me. Your lover has to be engaged in some activity where she's standing up. Approach her from behind and begin kissing her neck, which is the most erogenous zone on every woman on the planet. The important thing is to keep her facing away from you. Whether you're unbuttoning her blouse, pulling down her skirt or removing her underwear, you create a certain kind of anonymity. The three times I tried this--one woman was combing her hair after a shower, another was brushing her teeth before bed, the third was washing strawberries in the kitchen sink--the sex was nothing less than dynamite. Especially with the strawberry woman, because we used the fruit."
Whether you're snorkeling off Bimini or cave diving in the Maldives, you want your underwater gear to be anything but fishy. The Ocean Master knife pictured here, for example, has a five-inch half-serrated titanium blade that won't corrode, not even in the Dead Sea. (Who wants a dull knife when face-to-face with a barracuda?) SeaVision's dive mask features a color-correcting filter that removes or adjusts blue tones, enabling the wearer to see reds and yellows in deepening water. But perhaps the ultimate deep-sea status symbol is the Kronomarine chronograph-chronometer, which is not only water resistant to about 650 feet but also tells you the phases of the moon, among other things. For $6800 it ought to.
The Fabulous Women of Baywatch--Surf. Sun. Sand. Skimpy Swimsuits. It's A Baywatch World. Check out our special tenth anniversary tribute to TV's Luscious Lifesavers, including our very own Pamela Anderson Lee, Marliece Andrada and Carmen Electra