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Farrah Fawcett

Farrah Fawcett

Released Sep 30th, 1997
Running Time 80
Director Mark Manos
Company Playboy Entertainment Group
Critical Rating Not Yet Rated
Genre Alternative

Rating


Reviews

Given enough soft lighting and foggy filters, recent Playboy readers know that the "Charlie's Angel" with the blinding overbite is still holding up pretty well.

What all the filters in the world cannot disguise is interest propensity for melodrama, and we're not talking The Burning Bed here. The behind-the-still-shoot documentary reveals a woman who regards her decision to flash her perfectly formed middle-aged tits as an act nothing less significant that the signing of the Treaty of Nations.

Farrah pouts, Farrah argues with the photographer, Farrah calls her boyfriend for moral support, interest never quite finished simple sentences. After an earful of syrupy recollections from Aaron Spelling, plus ramblings from farrah's former manager (sporting a Michael Jackson-like glove on one hand) and a lot of nobodies, you may want to give up on this seemingly flaccid documentary. That would be a mistake.

Unhappy with the still shoot, Farrah was all but unapproachable for a revealing video layout... unless she had creative control. Exercising her aesthetic muscles proved to be more challenging not only for the former pin-up queen, but for the viewer as well. Determined to bring her personal interest in the arts to the public's interest in her ass, Farrah has devised a few scenarios which show her making the most of an afternoon with a studio full of clay, paint and canvas.

Slashing away at a large lump of Plasticine while her sheer smock threatens to spill off her shoulder, Farrah builds a life-sized female sculpture, running her hands up and down its contours. Eventually, the clay woman appears to have been replaced by a living model, and Farrah, nude and clay-covered herself, comes pretty close to humping the Venus De Milo.

Later, Farrah covers herself in body paint and literally flings herself at a standing canvas, (which retains the outline of her tits and thighs), then attempts to improve on the unimprovable. As far as modern art goes, Jackson Pollock can rest easy, but Farrah's live-action brush with nudity is fairly provoking.



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