Graphic violence and explicit content added in post-production
The door swung open, and Bob Guccione walked in. The publisher of Penthouse magazine didn't look like a Hollywood producer. He looked like a wealthy pirate—open silk shirt, gold chains nestled in chest hair, an air of aggressive opulence that sucked the oxygen out of the room.
Elena closed her eyes. She thought of the rain in L.A., the hopes of a prestige drama, the intellectual weight of Gore Vidal, and the raw, chaotic energy of the set. It had all been devoured by the beast.
Graphic violence and explicit content added in post-production
The door swung open, and Bob Guccione walked in. The publisher of Penthouse magazine didn't look like a Hollywood producer. He looked like a wealthy pirate—open silk shirt, gold chains nestled in chest hair, an air of aggressive opulence that sucked the oxygen out of the room.
Elena closed her eyes. She thought of the rain in L.A., the hopes of a prestige drama, the intellectual weight of Gore Vidal, and the raw, chaotic energy of the set. It had all been devoured by the beast.