When I can’t sleep at night, I’ve stumbled on some gems of awesomely bad movies where thankfully I caught the most awesomely bad parts. In light of Dave’s post about the Worst Show on Television, otherwise known as The L Word, I’d like to point out that despite purveying crappy shows like Californication (made for and by douchebags), Secret Diary of a Call Girl (hugely disappointing tease), and the U.S. of Tara, which may be good but just sounds awful (Toni Collette plays a wife and mother with 3 distinct personalities)— Showtime occasionally hits a home run.

And that home run is Deeper Throat. The second “reality” series focusing on the owner of adult film company Vivid Entertainment, Steven Hirsch, trying to remake classic porn movies (though it pains me to say it, it is hard to top Californication’s “Vaginatown” subplot in terms of classic porn remakes.).

This season, Hirsch is remaking Deep Throat, and to do so he had to make a deal with the old codger who owns the film’s rights. The old codger sends a young, possibly teenage, douchebag to oversee the production, which of course Hirsch and his director PT do not want at all.

Highlights of last night’s episode include:

• Young paduwan douchebag, angry that he is out of the loop, decides that the best way to get PT’s attention is to TP his car. Get it? TP PT’s car!!
• Star Sasha Grey’s emasculated boyfriend, who admits to the camera, “I perform sometimes, but only with Sasha now.” And later: “It’s hard to be in a relationship with someone that you have to schedule your sex around all of her times having sex with other people” She is 20 years old, I imagine he is a bit older, and they plan to be married. Good luck with that.
• PT’s first draft of the Deeper Throat script ends with a woman biting a guy’s dick off.
• Porn star Tera Patrick wants to co-direct a lesbian orgy with Dave Navarro, rock star. When Dave freaks out and leaves, Tera is very nervous about going it alone, until she realizes she is directing porn, which is easy.

The Dave Navarro freakout deserves its own discussion. He shows up 90 minutes late to the shoot, causing Tera Patrick to nearly hyperventilate. After getting pictures with the ladies, they head out for a well-earned smoke break. Dave stands outside sipping coffee, looking intently at two of the porn starlets. Finally he walks up to the blond one and asks, “I know you, right? Indiana?” And she nods yes. Then we cut away to her talking to the camera, saying something along the lines of, “Dave and I met after one of his shows and stayed in touch with each other as friends for a while.” Then back to the interaction, and an obviously puzzled Dave offers, “You changed your number.” She again assents. Then he says, “When do you leave?” She replies, “I fly back tonight.” And he: “How long have you been in town?” And her: “About a week.” Dave leaves, but turns back and mimes a phone, “You should have called me.”

Next thing you know, Dave says an urgent family thing has come up and he has to go, which doesn’t stop him from talking to the camera about it for a while.

So was Dave phone-stalking her? That seems to be the drift of the conversation, but I have to admire the porn star’s professionalism and pokerface in her “confessional” on-camera time.

Unfortunately, she is the only professional so far. One porn star is ejected from the set when she hogs the, um, hog from another girl—taking her paperwork with her, so that the none of her footage can be used. Then there’s the douchebag TP’er, and finally, poor PT, the director, who’s been directing porn for 25 years, with probably thousands of movies to his credit, and he still thinks he’s making art.  (NOTE: I’m not saying you can’t mix art and porn, it’s just that you aren’t going to do that as Vivid house director)

More about Sasha Grey (pictured above in clothes, i’m sure you know by now how to find images or otherwise where she has them off…) than you ever wanted to know, from Wikipedia:

It has been reported she “shocked” her fellow performer by requesting to be punched in the stomach during fellatio, stating it was “an exercise in improvisational fantasy.”