In a narrow bathroom, perched upon a toilet bowl where, minutes earlier, a porn star had spread her legs and awkwardly tried to shave herself amidst the clutter, I gaze up at Shar Rednour with all the awe and ardor of girl doting on her glamorous mommy at the makeup mirror. Snug in a fluffy bathrobe and faux-fur flip-flops, Shar is winding lock after lock of thick, platinum hair around spiky curlers and fastening them to her scalp. Twin racks of hot curlers boil away on a TV tray that makes the tight space unbearably hot, but I stick it out for the privilege of watching Shar's transformation from sleepy bohemian to award-winning porn impresario. And make no mistake, it is a privilege. Today is the final day of filming for Sugar High Glitter City, a fantastical, sugar-laden porn video by the independent dyke production company, S.I.R., based out of San Francisco. A do-it-yourself outfit operated by Shar and her wife/collaborator Jackie Strano, S.I.R. has been in high demand since winning the coveted "Best All-Girl Feature" at the 2001 Adult Video News awards (which is the porn equivalent of the Oscars). This unexpected triumph has shoved these wicked queer heroines of the sex-radical underground into the porno mainstream, and the pair has so far turned down on-set visits from, among others, Playboy magazine. The capturing of the "Best All-Girl Feature" award by a gang of real live lesbians shouldn't be so unusual, but it is. As even a casual purveyor of porn could surmise, the industry's "lezzies" come in the same Malibu Barbie packaging as their hetero sistas, despite the fact that real dykes look . . . dykier, than your average female. S.I.R.'s cast reflects this reality, offering up real butch dykes, all short hair and manly swagger. It's a stunning victory for the gender underground, and one that the porn industry, hungry for hot new blood, has swarmed in to take a look at.
Being a local lezzie myself, and friends with most of the cast and crew, I was granted access that the big boys were denied, but even my familiar presence is making Shar a bit uncomfortable. The first outsider allowed on the set, she worries that — supportive as I am — I may interrupt the big, big love that has exploded among this tight-knit, all-dyke crew. Shar is maternally protective of the warm and safe arena S.I.R. has created for lesbian sex, and she's understandably worried about the corrupting gaze of Playboy — or snooping, critical sisters — breaking the spell these women have cast over their project.
Outside the tiny bathroom sprawls the rest of the S.I.R. empire — a live/work warehouse with a decadent history that includes countless drag queens, bacchanalian sex parties, speed-freak artists and the disco legend, Sylvester. It's important and depressing that Sugar High's final scenes will be filmed here, because the entire building of sex-freaky artistes has been evicted, scheduled for renovation into new media office space. The kitchen is doing double-duty as makeup trailer, with glitter in every form imaginable scattered across the Formica tabletop.
Jackie Strano, amped for the impending shoot, paces the room in blue vinyl pants, her short, purple hair in jagged spikes, her eyes encrusted with chunky silver glitter. "I'm Blue, and I'm shaking down these sugar 'hos," she crows, getting into character as a corrupt cop who routinely indulges in both the sugar and the sugar-smacked hookers she's supposed to be cleaning up. Inspired by their own addiction to sweets, Shar and Jackie created a gritty fairyland where candy is the illicit drug of choice — an aphrodisiac as powerful as heroin, aggressive as speed and psychedelic as LSD. At the kitchen table, actress Josephine X offers her lips to the makeup artist, who paints them in fuschia, then glosses them up with iridescent glitter. In Glitter City, everything that can be glittered is. Aerosol sparkles get gusted onto hairdos, sparkly fairy-dust gets brushed lightly onto eyelids and thick sparkle gel is smeared over entire torsos. Many glitter dildos are scattered around the warehouse and piled in prop boxes which also contain packets of Fun-Dip, rolls of Bubble Tape, bouquets of Blow Pops, vials of sour cherry sugar powder, candy bracelets, Tootsie Pops, Bubbalicious, sugared gum drops, family-sized bags of licorice and, my favorite, pristine sugar cubes sealed into tiny Ziploc drug baggies, looking like something illegal you'd buy on the street. A crew member clutching bottles of lube stumbles around the debris, poking through piles of feather-trimmed costumes in search of an elusive pack of Pixie Sticks needed for the next scene, in which the reformed, born-again street-preaching Honeydew (Shar), catches a whiff of sugar coming off Officer Blue and his sugar 'ho Cherry Glaze (Josephine X). Honeydew has what those in Narcotics Anonymous would call a "slip." Cut to a wild candy threesome to be filmed atop a satin-covered massage table in a room down the hall.
From the bathroom, Shar hollers to Jackie to find someone to Windex her pants. Jackie is taking a call from a sound assistant bedridden with heavy menstrual cramps. "One of the cons of an all-dyke crew," she shrugs good-naturedly. The boom operator who replaces her is a new mom whose infant is delivered to the set twice a day for breast-feeding. It's time to shoot a brief street scene on the sidewalk outside. Shar and Josephine wiggle into teeny, flashy outfits — metallic silver for the hooker, and army camouflage for crusading Shar, who hands me a Xeroxed pamphlet titled "Say No to the Sugar Life." "You are sweet on the inside," the brochure assures. "Join me in fighting the evil ways of sugar." Shar, a Christian preacher in her teens and present-day hedonist, personally knows both the holy wars and the drug wars her film lampoons.
Shar and Jackie occupy every position imaginable for S.I.R. — writer, director, actor and all the non-glamorous production work, too. Coaching the younger Josie X, Shar stresses, "Remember, when you see me on the street, you love me." Everyone clatters out the door but me and the makeup artist, a high-femme dyke who offers me a bag of gummy bears. Apparently, craft services is nothing but candy. "We're all a bit sugar-high," she whispers. I poke through another box of candy and strain my ears to catch a bit of the action happening outside. "Save her soul now . . ." floats up the stairwell, then muffled sex noises, like someone is getting fucked while her mouth is stuffed with sweets. The scene ends with an eruption of claps and cheers from the crew. "That's beautiful!" someone shouts as they pile back into the kitchen. Makeup swiftly goes to work scrubbing lipstick smudges from Jackie's face. "You got to remember to glitter your pussy," she calls over her shoulder to Josie X, who is peeling off her costume.
shoved these wicked queer heroines of the sex-radical underground into the porno mainstream, and the pair has so far turned down on-set visits from, among others, Playboy magazine. The capturing of the "Best All-Girl Feature" award by a gang of real live lesbians shouldn't be so unusual, but it is. As even a casual purveyor of porn could surmise, the industry's "lezzies" come in the same Malibu Barbie packaging as their hetero sistas, despite the fact that real dykes look . . . dykier, than your average female. S.I.R.'s cast reflects this reality, offering up real butch dykes, all short hair and manly swagger. It's a stunning victory for the gender underground, and one that the porn industry, hungry for hot new blood, has swarmed in to take a look at.
and depressing that Sugar High's final scenes will be filmed here, because the entire building of sex-freaky artistes has been evicted, scheduled for renovation into new media office space. The kitchen is doing double-duty as makeup trailer, with glitter in every form imaginable scattered across the Formica tabletop.
clutching bottles of lube stumbles around the debris, poking through piles of feather-trimmed costumes in search of an elusive pack of Pixie Sticks needed for the next scene, in which the reformed, born-again street-preaching Honeydew (Shar), catches a whiff of sugar coming off Officer Blue and his sugar 'ho Cherry Glaze (Josephine X). Honeydew has what those in Narcotics Anonymous would call a "slip." Cut to a wild candy threesome to be filmed atop a satin-covered massage table in a room down the hall.
I poke through another box of candy and strain my ears to catch a bit of the action happening outside. "Save her soul now . . ." floats up the stairwell, then muffled sex noises, like someone is getting fucked while her mouth is stuffed with sweets. The scene ends with an eruption of claps and cheers from the crew. "That's beautiful!" someone shouts as they pile back into the kitchen. Makeup swiftly goes to work scrubbing lipstick smudges from Jackie's face. "You got to remember to glitter your pussy," she calls over her shoulder to Josie X, who is peeling off her costume.
