"Is that real snakeskin?"
I recently went to the cinema at noon, because it is cheap at that time of day, and because Steven Soderbergh’s The Girlfriend Experience was only showing once a week in one movie theatre in all of Paris. Sasha Grey, an award-winning 21-year-old porn star, plays Chelsea, a high-class Manhattan call girl who manages to keep a boyfriend while seeing her various clients.
The film has a pseudo-documentary style, outlining stories of Chelsea’s life: the brands of her high heels, the types of alcohol her clients offer her, the astrological numbers of her week. And then there are scenes of some rich New York City republican wankers jetting off to Las Vegas for a boys’ weekend. They gripe about the economic crisis and the 2008 presidential election, and then one of them proclaims that all women are evil, blood-sucking psychopaths.
The Girlfriend Experience is sort of like a dark, soporific, new millennium version of Pretty Woman, with a porn star instead of Julia Roberts, and an infinite Manhattan bleakness instead of a happy ending.
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Alcohol is the drug of choice for most individuals, and it is a drug. Often named the “grease” of fellowship, an learned individual is more inclined to land in situations where it is dished out. An educated person is also more cognizant of the pressures to win in our culture, and the resulting desire to relax from that pressure. Most individuals have no problem with this drug, but the problem people leave behind a dreadful trail of wreckage.