After years of balancing arty projects with popcorn flicks, Johnny Depp nabbed an Academy Award nomination for a perfect combination of the two, playing the swashbuckling Keith Richards—oops, we mean Captain Jack Sparrow—in last summer's smash Pirates of the Caribbean. Did Depp have Oscar expectations? "That was not in any way in the cards," reports Bernard Weinraub, whom we nominated to meet Depp for this month's Playboy Interview. "With his public persona, I didn't know what to expect. He comes across as a way-out guy, but he's not like that at all. He's friendly, very easy to talk to, quite down-to-earth and real. Although he wants to separate his private life as much as he can now that he has two children, he was willing to talk about pretty much anything. He seemed like a really smart guy."
Maybe there is a reason you'd consider seeing the upcoming romantic comedy Tony 'n' Tina's Wedding. Krista Allen will be there to ease your pain, playing a friend of Italian bride Mila Kunis of That '70s Show (okay, make that two reasons). Interestingly, Krista hangs with the gabagool crowd again in her other major role this year, as the sex-crazed niece of a mafioso in Shut Up and Kiss Me. Directors may like to cast Krista as a hot-blooded daughter of Italy, but in reality she's straight-up Texan. The Lone Star State couldn't keep Krista lassoed for long, though. In 1995, with only $1,000 in her jeans, she headed for Hollywood, adding another $2,500 with a gambling stopover in Vegas. The lucky streak didn't end there. Within a week of arriving in L.A. she landed a role on The Bold and the Beautiful as a bikini waitress (maybe we should start checking out those daytime dramas). Bit parts on Silk Stalkings and Married With Children, and a three-year stint on Days of Our Lives followed. Ditching soaps for a swimsuit, she breaststroked her way through the 1999 season of Baywatch before jumping to the big screen in Anger Management and Paycheck. Undoubtedly even bigger roles will follow. Meanwhile, if Krista needs to practice her wise-girl accent with someone, we'll bring the pizza.
Name: Alicia Burley. Favorite hobby: "Off-roading. I like doing it on three-wheelers, too." In high school: "I was heavier. I lost 30 pounds, and that's when I decided to do Playboy." Nickname: "Gleek. He was the cartoon monkey on Super Friends." Road Runner or Wile E. Coyote? "I'm on the coyote's side. Just once he needs to nail that bird." If I were a guy: "I'd want to do Adriana Sklenarikova, the Victoria's Secret model with those great blue eyes. Or Gisele. Actually, any of them." One thing you should know: "I've got two pit bulls. But don't worry—they're very nice."
A while back you ran a letter from a woman who asked why guys save all their Playboys. Here's one reason: my nephew's letters from boot camp. He describes the lonely and difficult times and asks for food and girlie magazines. I have never parted with a Playboy, but I would be happy to help out a few anonymous servicemen by shipping some of my issues to Iraq or wherever they are needed. Can you tell me how to get this done?—J.Y., Madison, Wisconsin
Looking for a good fight? You don't need to travel far: The battles between environmentalists and the Bush administration have reached a fever pitch. The roots of the Republican policies can be found in Ron Arnold's 1989 book, The Wise Use Agenda, based on a landmark conference he conducted of property owners, snowmobilers, loggers and developers. Arnold, 66, a defector from the Sierra Club, is now executive vice president of the Center for the Defense of Free Enterprise. Dean Kuipers spoke with Arnold on the status of his agenda.
The career of rugged individualism in America has run mostly to absurdity, tragic or comic. But it has also done a certain amount of good. There was a streak of it in Thoreau, who went to jail to protest the Mexican War. And that streak has continued in his successors, who have suffered penalties for civil disobedience because of their perception that law and government were not always or necessarily right. This is individualism of a kind rugged enough, and it has typically been authenticated by its identification with a communal good.
From a Consensual-Sex Contract sold online by SW Designs for $29.99: "This agreement supercedes any and all written and oral agreements heretofore entered into and represents the entire agreement between the parties. (1) It is acknowledged and agreed that the parties are fully aware of and understand the contents, legal effects and consequences of this agreement and, being fully advised, enter into this agreement voluntarily, free from duress, fraud, drunkenness (as defined by the laws of this state), undue influence, coercion, mental incompetence or misrepresentation of any kind. (2) The agreeing parties are of legal age according to the laws of_____, the legal venue of the agreement. (3) It is agreed that parties hereto are now, and must remain, willing participants in the sexual act fully described under separate and confidential document [a list of sexual activities that includes entries such as intercourse, sex toys, other insertion, adultery and cross-dressing, with definitions for each] and that the signing of this document is not to be constructed as an obligation to fulfill the contract. (4) The parties agree that consensual sexual activity is privileged information and is not to be discussed with any individuals who are not parties to this agreement unless prior written permission is granted. This agreement is not to be used for financial gain by either party herein."
1977: A Connecticut appeals court overturns the conviction of a high school student who gave the finger to a trooper from the back of a school bus. The officer had stopped behind the bus at a red light.
It's early June 2003. The man in the shades guides his black Pontiac Grand Prix down a side street near the 101 freeway. Overhead a jet on its final approach to San Francisco International Airport roars in, nearly drowning out Tupac on the car stereo. In a single extended motion the man flips off the music and switches on a tiny black electronic device.
Whether Helmut Newton was shooting fashion for Italian Vogue or the famous for playboy, his photographs were always edgy, unpredictable and uncompromisingly erotic. His death in a car accident early this year at the age of 83 represents the loss of one of the world's great visual stylists.
It's Tuesday night at the Blue Water Grill, a swank New York nightspot housed in a lofty 19th century bank building, and a crowd has gathered around the copper bar—clusters of moneyed suits, Prada-clad babes, a few downtown punks, everyone melting into an evening soaked with potential. We've saddled up in a far corner. You might say we're here on business.
Brant Call was a pretty nice guy. He lived in a small rented house on a quiet street in the town where he went to college. He always shoveled his walk when it snowed, and he always said hi to passing neighbors, and through he was young (he'd graduated only a couple years before), he acted like he was 37, and everybody liked him for it.
And there you have it: the largest pile of sex toys ever constructed. Buzzing silicone insects, undergarments fitted with remote-control massaging nubs, pulsating penises fashioned out of the same materials used to manufacture prosthetic limbs. All this and more is piled on my living room floor. I'm alone in my pajamas, up to my knees in the stuff. For the third time in as many seconds I find myself wondering what the hell I've gotten myself into.
L icensed pilot Nicole Whitehead—yes, she flies airplanes—is absolutely fearless. "The first time I flew a plane was also the first time I went skydiving," says the 23-year-old. "I literally dived out the plane door—they couldn't open it fast enough. When I was free-falling I could see all this amazing scenery at one time—the ocean, the city and the area where the NASA shuttles take off. It was so pretty, I think I started to cry." Back on solid ground, Nicole, with ample Southern charm (she's from Alabama and lives in Florida), explained to the pilot that while skydiving was a trip, she would be even more excited actually flying the plane. How could he resist? "He took me up and let me take the controls," she says. "It was the best day I ever had. I knew right then that I had to fly for a living."
Samuel Ball has landed one of the year's most enviable roles: He'll star opposite Alias's Jennifer Garner in the upcoming 13 Going On 30. Ball grew up in West Virginia and has mined the indie film scene for his biggest parts, debuting in Urbania and starring with Christina Ricci in Pumpkin. He's also worked in TV, appearing on Dawson's Creek, Sex and the City, CSI and Law&Order.
Pamela Anderson is lounging in the backyard of her beach house in Malibu, California. She got home late last night from Las Vegas, where she attended her friend Elton John's extravaganza, in which he performs "The Bitch Is Back" in front of a 30-foot-tall screen that shows Pam pole dancing.
Below is 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 36, 43–44, 114–119 and 159, check the listings below to find the stores nearest you.
So you can't afford that $600,000 Ferrari Enzo? You poor, pathetic bastard. Lucky for you, automakers are now littering showrooms with lifestyle products—knives, stereos, watches, computers—branded with their company logos. The idea? To apply the kind of pleasure you get from joyriding a high-end car to other parts of your life. Stay tuned for future products such as Chrysler cauliflower and BMW kittens. No, seriously.
Playboy (ISSN 0032-1478), May 2004, volume 51, number 5. Published monthly by Playboy in national and regional editions, Playboy, 680 North Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60611. Periodicals postage paid at Chicago, Illinois and at additional mailing offices. Canada Post Canadian Publications Mail Sales Product Agreement No. 40035534. Subscriptions: in the U.S., $29.97 for 12 issues. Postmaster: Send address change to Playboy, P.O. Box 2007, Harlan, Iowa 51537-4007. For subscription-related questions, call 800-999-4438, or e-mail firstname.lastname@example.org.
The Vegas Chapel Wars—Long before Britney Spears starred in a quickie sin city wedding, folks had been flocking to Las Vegas to get hitched without a hassle. Behind the Garter belts and the ordained Elvis impersonators, however, love is a battlefield. A crop of cutthroat Chapel owners is competing for business—even if it means turning honeymoons into hell. By Kate Silver and Scott Dickensheets