BONUS NUMBER 185: SHORTS

(Did You Sleep With the Models?)

The title of today’s post refers not to what the models are wearing but rather to the abbreviated length of the three layouts. At the magazines, we had several reasons for running shorter features, e.g. four or five pages rather than the usual eight, ten, or more. The better studios and independent photographers — Colt, Falcon, Kristen Bjorn — never failed to supply a package of photographs that allowed us to choose cover close-ups, centerfolds, b&w along with color, and often both indoor and outdoor shots.

Other contributors, however, might come across an attractive model who wasn’t quite cover material, who lacked muscles or a handsome face, but who qualified all the same for a layout. Occasionally we ran an abbreviated feature to plug a movie, as in the case of the Joe Gage film “Django,” the basis of one of today’s selections. That movie’s plot, as our excerpt shows, is a parody of such hardboiled fiction writers as Raymond Chandler, Dashiell Hammett, and James M. Cain, and the many films made from their work. Joe Gage, in the uncensored 1980s, managed to outdo all of the above with Django’s opening line: “I WOKE UP WITH A DICK IN MY HAND.”

The second layout — two centerfolds, the end — is from Surge Studio, which was owned by Al Parker and his partner. Despite the good work that Surge produced, it never became top notch, one reason being lack of experience and another, Al Parker’s own hectic career as one of the world’s most sought-after erotic models.

You will perhaps say, as I did when I came across the Surge layout recently, “Don’t be stingy.” But in this instance, they were. There’s also something hurry-up about it, as though they had to wrap the shoot and leave for the airport in ten minutes. The well-hung model, with his attractive face, deserved better.

And the truncated inset photo — why would any photographer whack off the very part a gay viewer wants to see? I’m confident that wasn’t done by our art department; they were never so slapdash. The model leaves you wanting more, which is perhaps preferable to overstaying one’s welcome.

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And then comes a Little-Orphan-Annie kind of layout, the sort of thing my predecessor at Honcho was fond of: a leather fashion layout, with gushy copy plugging a leather store in Chicago. The intrusion of such blatant ad/promo into the editorial pages is bad practice in any publication. In the October 1982 issue of Honcho it’s embarrassing for the Sears and Roebuck photo layout, as well as the kitschy-sincerety of the copy, which reads like Drummer magazine crossed with “The Price Is Right.”

Why, then, you may ask, did I include these four pages? Well, the hairy arm with bulging bicep is worth a glance. Other than that, the body parts are okay, but unremarkable. And connoisseurs of gay camp may be amused.