by producer Alan Rogers in London
There has been so many words, written by educated people with far more experience than I, on the subject of love. I can hardly add more than my narrow minded white British male opinion. But somehow I feel compelled to give it, so here it is;
‘Love’ is a noun to describe a suite of emotions. A scale. I look upon it like the word ‘Colour’; on its own it is meaningless. The word can describe anything from ‘like’, to ‘obsession’.
I believe that it is often misinterpreted because of this and used inappropriately. Never more so than when the words ‘I love you’ are used to corrupt.
In much the same way we have to take stock of our wants and needs (yes, Maslow gets everywhere), we sometimes have to take stock of our feelings within relationships.
Everyone knows that Lust and Sexual Desire are natural feelings of a burgeoning relationship between two ‘like-minded’ people. But this has nothing at all to do with love. If the sex is good, then love may be credited as the reason. If the sex is ‘adequate’, love may still save the relationship from failure. But Love describes a want, and Lust describes a need.
I am currently reading Maitland Wards autobiographical novel ‘Rated X: How Porn Liberated Me from Hollywood’. Don’t judge.
Apart from the fact that this woman is VERY career minded, she makes some very good points. There is no equality for men and women in the Hollywood based acting world. Women are not allowed to publicly show sexual urges, or fantasies, as they portray the woman negatively. Men are encouraged to show desire and lust. Think Jessica Rabbit as a boy in a room full of cartoon girls with eyes on stalks.
Then there is the fact that if you are a actress and you lose your looks and/or have a family (in Hollywood), you are finished. If you are an actor and you lose your looks and/or have a family, you may still be admired as a ‘Hollywood Great’. Not saying this is not changing. It is less of a problem in Britain for instance where our ’National Treasures’ tend to be at least septuagenarian and we call all male and female players, ‘actors’ (who by this time have achieved ‘Dame-hood’ or ‘Knighthood’).
To summarise: Maitland Ward was finished as an Actor. When this became obvious to her, she grew angry and frustrated at the unfairness. This occurred at a time when her sex life was expanding rapidly, so she threw herself into being overtly sexualised as a means of career survival. This led to a career as a porn actress. Not a choice Dame Maggie Smith might have made, but Dame Helen Mirren might have, had the internet been invented in the 1960s. She had to endure countless moronic interviews about how much nudity was acceptable for a young actress.
Cyberfeminism is required to extrapolate the xenophobia surrounding this second-generation gender bias.
“Ah” Says Missy. “You called?”
This series is a marathon rant at society, over (nearly) a decade of release(s). Society has changed in that time, but your message is as relevant today as it was at the start.
Deep synth music playing.
A (very slowed down) voice with an Irish accent is talking. The slowing down has made the voice deep and foreboding:
“If you were to visit this house, inside you would find a man, a woman, harvesting food from the surrounding farmland’
The image of what looks like John Lennon and Yoko Ono (seen from behind) walking in their garden in England appears out of fog.
“Living a normal family life”
Image changes to interior of a dark room. Lit only by windows facing the camera like two half-closed eyes. The door opens and a man shuffles into the room.
“But the longer you stay here”
“The more questions you’d start to have”
The man turns and we notice the lower half of his face is covered with a scarf.
Image changes to a silhouette of a person sitting in a chair facing a lit screen.
“Why does it feel like this man and this woman don’t actually know each other”
Image changes to candle flame flickering. Then back to the man standing in the room, then to a close up of Missy smoking.
(Growing in exasperation) “What is wrong with this houses mirrors? and who are these strange men who creep in through it’s windows at night and leave behind an eerie lifelike robot?”
Man pulls out a gun.
What is happening here, What is this place?”
Man washing an eyeball in a stainless steel sink. His hands are covered in blood.
“And the answer is that this house is a reflection”
At this point audio stops to silence and the video pauses for a few seconds for us to take that in.
Cut to suited older gentleman in an office standing. There is another older gentleman sitting behind him to the left. A sign on the wall says ’NOVITZ’. There is also a portrait of a man on the wall, probably of the seated man.
Standing man: “So what shall I call you? Shall I call you…?”
Cut to a seated Vinnie Jones (between two unhappy similar looking women) who says:
“You can call me Susan if it makes you happy”
Sound of needle scratching a record. Cut to profile of a woman’s head with an angry mans face projected on it.
“They bleached your hair. They must’ve bleached your brains too.”
Blackness and silence while we take that in too.
Cut to Missy. Head shot. Sepia tones. Footage made to look old (filmed on cellulite rather than digital imagery).
‘If I Be Wrong’ – by Wolf Larsen starts playing. Beautiful song.
I WAS ONCE ASKED
Missy moves. She is moving about the room carrying the camera at arms length. This is a selfie shot. She is naked. Her hair is wet.
HAVE YOU EVER REGRETTED HAVING SEX WITH A MAN?
We see that she is also carrying a towel and a bottle of water. There are always bottles of water. It is clear that water is important to her. The house also has a lot of mirrors, affording the opportunity for Missy to glance at herself.
YES. ALL OF THEM I ANSWERED
Which she does now. Peering at herself, then at the camera, then at her ‘reflection’.
IF I’M HONEST WITH MYSELF
OF THE MANY HUNDREDS OF MEN I’VE BEEN WITH
I CAN ONLY THINK OF A HANDFUL I DON’T REGRET
The fact that your list extends to many hundreds can mean one of two things: You do not know how many you have ‘done the deed’ with, and are guessing it must be in the multiple hundreds. Or you have kept count. The truth is though, what does it matter? How many times have you taken a piss? Judging by the amount of water you drink, it would be in the millions by now. Who cares? Although, that does insinuate that taking a piss is the same thing as sex. Which is weird. No, what I mean is that barring the emotional stress of both parties during a sexual encounter, the deed comes down to mechanics.
Missy points the camera at her naked back and buttocks in the mirror.
THE REST I WOULD PUT IN THE CATEGORY OF ‘ADEQUATE’
Back to Missy’s face where she turns her nose up at the camera and smirks, before continuing to walk on.
WHICH I WOULD DEFINE AS SEX THAT IS EITHER
MEANINGLESS OR MEDIOCRE. OR BOTH
Sex can sometimes be just sex. A need, remember. Not a want.
Missy crouches. Then stands and walks on.
BUT IN REALITY, I WAS USING SEX LIKE A DRUG
Which I take to mean you were addicted to sex, or at least the sensations of lust.
Missy has reached the leather couch, which she crawls onto, to lay down.
TO FILL A HOLE INSIDE ME WITH MEN
SLEEPING WITH A LOT OF MEN
IS NOT THE ONLY BEHAVIOUR I REGRET
Missy is trying to get comfortable while holding the camera on herself. We see a lot of close ups of her hair in the process.
EVEN MORE DAMAGING WAS WHAT I TOLD MYSELF
We now see Missy’s face. And it has a sad expression.
IN ORDER TO JUSTIFY THE FACT
THAT I WAS DISPOSABLE TO THESE MEN
I TOLD MYSELF I DIDN’T CARE
THE LIE I TOLD MYSELF FOR YEARS WAS
I’M NOT IN PAIN
This is a very sad confession. The need to be loved is in all of us. We all want that verification of existence that someone puts us on the scale between ‘like’ and ‘obsession’. We hope the needle goes up with time too.
Close up of Missy’s beautiful almond eyes.
FROM A YOUNG AGE
I LEARNT TO FEEL SHAME
ABOUT MY NATURAL SEXUAL URGES
MY SEXUALITY WOULD UNFOLD MESSILY
This is true of so many. Sadly. You are being honest in this assessment.
AS A REACTION TO THESE REPRESSIVE ORTHODOXIES
I DEALT WITH THE OVERWHELMING SHAME
BY BECOMING HYPER-SEXUAL AND PROMISCUOUS
I INTERNALISED THE LIE
THAT LOVELESS SEX IS EMPOWERING
I cannot imagine having sex with someone I am not attracted to. Perhaps I am mistaking attraction with desire, and desire with lust. They are not linked to love though. I can imagine having sex with someone I do not love, but find attractive. Not sure what that proves though.
Missy starts to move the camera over her body.
I BASKED IN THAT DELUSION FOR DECADES
WHILE WEAPONISING MY SEXUALITY
I TOLD MYSELF THAT BECAUSE I COULD SEDUCE A MAN
I WAS POWERFUL
There is power in seduction. But not glory.
I WASN’T POWERFUL
I WAS FULL OF SHIT
I FAILED TO REALISE
THAT BEING DESIRED IS NOT THE SAME THING
AS BEING HELD IN HIGH ESTEEM
I am glad you mentioned ‘high esteem’.
As one of my heroes, you hold a solid place in my heart and mind that I would categorise as ‘high esteem’. But I think you are inferring a category of love that is more intimate than the term implies. I think you mean that being needed is not the same thing as being wanted.
AS A DEFENCE MECHANISM
I CRAFTED A MANEATER PERSONA
THAT PERSONA HAD FOUR RULES
INTIMACY IS CREEPY
Only if the intimacy is unwanted.
LOVE IS A PUNCH LINE
Sometimes, when thrown away carelessly.
MOTHERHOOD AND CHILDREN ARE A TRAP
To some people they are. And that is fine too.
AND SEX IS ABOUT POWER
BUT SEX ISN’T ABOUT POWER
IT’S ABOUT TRUST
Possibly. I do not categorise sex and trust as leading to the same thing.
FOR ALL OF MY LIFE
THAT WAS SOMETHING
I WANTED NO RESPONSIBILITY FOR
I think you have spun these words to show you have had trust issues in the past.
ISN’T ALWAYS ABOUT LOSING EVERYTHING
SOMETIMES IT CAN BE RECEIVING 3 WORDS
ROCK BOTTON CAME ONE NIGHT
WITH A TEXT MESSAGE FROM AN EX-LOVER
I LOVE YOU
THEN I RECEIVED A SECOND TEXT
SORRY WRONG PERSON
I am not sure you mean this to be heartbreaking or funny. It is a bit of both. Like ‘Afterlife’, the UK TV series.
Song Ends. Cut to same close up of Missy but the screen is no longer sepia. This is now a black and white (bluish) tone. Perhaps this signifies we have cut to modern day. New song starts; A version of Tears for Fears ‘Shout’ . I cannot recognise the artist.
I would like to summarise this film as both a cry from the heart and a rally call.
You do not come across as feeling sorry for yourself. You are self deprecating, but only as a retrospective consideration of early you. I am sure I have summarised likewise before, so sorry if this sounds very familiar; but we are all a sum of our experiences. Our personalities and ego’s are shaped by things we experience and do. Nothing is wasted. Everything is worthwhile.
But I am a bloke. And we blokes strut.
Start strutting Missy. Strut everywhere, It will suit you.