Released: Jun 01st, 1995
Running Time: 90
Company: Avs Ltd.
Cast: Justine (I), C.J. Bennett, Destiny De Morre, Randy De Troit, Fawntana, Sonora, Lauren Bates, Regan Senter
Critical Rating: Not Yet Rated
It would be far too easy to dismiss the content of this series in the same reckless, cavalier fashion that Regan "Chief Executive Officer of Beautiful Models, International" Senter repeatedly dismisses some very real, disturbing allegations about his agency Senter and his pal Randy De Troit have made a conscious, concerted effort to incorporate a legitimate AVN business article as the very basis for their fictional scenarios - bad choice!
Hollywood Starlets resembles nothing less than a pornographic remake of Freaks, as directed by John Waters. Senter makes the case against himself by merely playing himself. As anyone who has been in this man's company already knows, the distinction between the performer and the individual is virtually nonexistent; save for the fact that you can't mute him in person.
The King of Phone Vampires is attended to by his own personal Renfield - Randy De Troit. This creative tag-team makes Ed Wood Jr. look positively brilliant. Arriving with fresh meat, De Troit whispers apologetically for Senter's "Napoleon complex," and dumps the hapless client into the lap of Leisure Suit Boy. Senter then delivers an egoistic monologue in a manner suggestive of Wood's own whipping boy, the lilting psychic Criswell.
Even as Senter squeezes off the last dribbling emission, he is already rebounding with another "they're so jealous because I'm so powerful" harangue against AVN and the world at large. Needless to say, De Troit gets handed sloppy seconds. At least Dracula allowed Renfield fresh spiders and flies.
Except for cuddly Lauren Bates, the parade of "Beautiful Models" who swing through this series are - ahem - less than covergirl material. Apparently to reinforce the self-deprecating theme, some of the girls are encouraged to display disgust under Senter's advances. All of these non-actresses deserve some kind of award - possibly the famed Marvel Comics' "no-prize."
Primitive visual techniques and extended blank gaps between segments simply reinforce the impression that Senter and De Troit haven't clue one about erotica, or professionalism.