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Reminder: My stories are always total fiction. Yet some real events and some real places may be used to add reality.
Shooting wrapped in early September. All the while Barry and Jerry continued to use Alan for whatever their dicks chose to do. Alan even offered to introduce them to other gay extras on the set, but Barry had to be circumspect. He was the star after all. It was one thing to spend time with a devoted cousin. "Cousins" of gymnasts and swimmers had been doing that with athletes Olympiad after Olympiad. But even messing around with Alan could have caused raised eyebrows.
Barry and Jerry went back to L.A. and waited for the post-production process to be completed. Word around the lot was nothing but good. When Barry saw the final print, he was overjoyed. He didn't think the picture could be better.
The film was released to thousands of screens the first week in November. Critics were most kind. Some even used the term "Oscar-worthy" in their reviews. The cinematography was spectacular. Jason Cameron had managed to capture the essence of surfing, filming the waves with surprisingly inventive camera angles, and showing the near-naked bodies of the surfers in all their glory. Of course, the flow of the pictures was the responsibility of the editor, and without superb cutting, the essence would have been lost.
Barry Swift's performance was also acclaimed. The boy that Barry is closest to dies in a wipeout that throws him onto a submerged rock. Barry retrieves his body from the surf, carries him to the beach, and delivers lines that summarize the whole point of the movie. The New York Times said that the scene was guaranteed to make grown men weep.
Smaller films do sometimes get nominated for Oscars. Just last year Breaking Away had been nominated for Best Picture and some thought it might win. Still, when this year's nominations were announced, most observers were surprised that The Surfer Boys received three: for cinematography, editing, and for Best Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role.
Jerry was fixing breakfast while listening to the radio, when he heard the news. He rushed to their bedroom, where Dick, that is Barry, had just finished his shower.
"You good-for-nothing motherfucker," Jerry shouted. "You know what? You just got nominated for the Oscar!"
The two of them were not much for kissing, but Jerry pulled Barry's naked body to his and passionately tongued his partner's mouth. Breakfast had to wait...and wait.
Their celebration lasted all day...and all night...and the next day, until the Columbia Publicity Department sent a young man to tell Barry to start answering his phone. He had interviews to give.
Barry countered that he had been so overwhelmed by the news that he had to "take to his bed." Actually he and Jerry had fucked each other until neither could hardly walk.
For several weeks Barry was a center of attention. He didn't give a lot of thought to the possibility that he could win, however. The other nominees included names like Robert DeNiro and Peter O'Toole. He didn't even bother to prepare an acceptance speech.
Jerry chose to stay home and watch the big event on tv. Said he didn't want to have to wipe away Barry's tears when he lost. Barry did look gorgeous in black tie, though.
The Oscar for Cinematography did go to The Surfer Boys. That was only a minor surprise. The prize for Editing, however, went to Raging Bull. That made Barry all the more certain that DeNiro would win for Best Actor. He was the odds-on favorite.
It was toward the end of the three hour spectacle that Sally Field, last year's Best Actress, prepared to open the envelope and announce the Best Actor winner. Clips from each of the nominated films were shown and the announcement was made.
"And the Oscar goes to...Barry Swift!"
It seemed like minutes before Barry could react. He was forced to his feet and literally stumbled to the stage. The audience at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion realized how shocked the honoree was and responded with thunderous applause.
Reaching the microphone he said, "I don't know what to say. I didn't think I could win against the great competition I was up against, so I didn't prepare anything. Of course, if it wasn't for the brainchild of Carlos Garcia and his great screenplay, there wouldn't have been any role for me. If it wasn't for my loving parents, there wouldn't be any me to play the role. Gosh! Let me just say thanks to all the guys and gals that put The Surfer Boys together and made it such a great show, and I'll get off the stage before I make a bigger fool of myself."
The applause even drowned out the orchestra.
At home Jerry couldn't have been prouder. "A fucking hustler snagging a fucking Oscar," he laughingly thought.
In Houston, Barry's mother and Carol, her husband, just happened to be watching. "That Barry Swift looks an awful lot like Dick," his mother said. "But it couldn't be."
"Nah," Carol responded. "He talked about his loving parents. Dick sure as shit wouldn't say anything like that."
Barry longed to be with Jerry, but he obediently was led by the studio brass to the Governor's Ball, where he was congratulated by stars, directors, and other celebrities who wouldn't have given him the time of day a day earlier. He also made a mandatory stop at the Vanity Fair after-party.
Despite the fact that Oscar Night actually starts in the afternoon, Pacific Time, in order to accommodate television prime time on the East Coast, it was still after two, Pacific Time, when Barry arrived at home. Jerry was waiting with a bottle of champagne.
"I was going to invite Jason Golden, Max, Graham and all the others from Bareknob days over to celebrate," Jerry said. "But then, I got to thinking `What the hell? I aint never been fucked by an Oscar winner before."
"So," Barry and Dick and Peter Goode all said, "what the hell?"
Copyright 2016 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.
Thanks for reading The Pornstar. Please let me know what you think of it. Does it need more character development? Is it not realistic enough? Does it need more sex? I really appreciate hearing from you, and I will answer all your emails. Please write me at macoutmann@yahoo.com.