A mass of contradictions, Michael Lucas is the Russian-born gay-porn mogul/star who releases movies like Farts!, Feet!, and South Beach Seductions, but calls his grandmother four times a day and regularly goes to the opera.
Lucas: "The best thing is, don't talk to the person. After you talk, sometimes it goes down."
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A tireless self-promoter, albeit with real personality and pathos, Lucas is an easy target in the gay world, but he doesn't mind the criticisms anymore. In fact, he dutifully recited the most common ones to me over dinner: "He's a Zoolander, he's the ugliest man on earth, he's Joan Crawford mixed with something else, he's the victim of surgery, he's 100 years old . . ." Whatever. Lucas is just glad to be talked about—and to talk.
The man's plump lips love to flap away in between sex engagements. He regularly mouths off about subjects like Palestine ("They're promising to destroy lives, so why would Israel allow them to have this neighboring state?") and African-Americans ("They're racist, anti-Semitic, and homophobic," he asserted to me, but generously added that he doesn't mean all of them).
My dinner with Lucas happened the night before he went to California for the GAYVN Awards, where he ended up flapping those lips again. First, he tried to get Brent Corrigan bumped as a presenter because he's not a good role model. (A few years ago, Corrigan forged a birth certificate and starred in porn when he wasn't legal.) The full-of-outrage rim queen then managed to trash Corrigan onstage, leading to Corrigan's boyfriend supposedly making threats that prompted Lucas to call the police with one hand and the press with the other. I'm sure you got the press release.
Anyway, here's our conversation, which could turn you celibate:
MM: Hello, Michael. How's the economy treating you? Between the plunging market and the amateur-porn explosion, aren't you all losing your shirts along with your pants? ML: Porn is not recession-proof. Whoever says it is lying. But because of the recession, everyone wants to be a porn star now. To balance things, I pay them less and I pay less for renting locations. Everybody's making a deal now.
MM: Speaking of deal making, have you ever taken money from the mafia? ML: What do you mean by mafia? MM: You know, the mob. ML: What is the mob? Are you asking if I'm an assassin? Are you trying to get me deported? No, I haven't.
MM: Aaaanyway, your movie Farts! got a lot of publicity, but it was a total sham. There wasn't any real flatulence in it (thank God). ML: I had a lot of complaints like that. I remember getting e-mails saying, "They're artificial." Well, what the fuck are you thinking? Do you want me to give the cast rice and beans? It doesn't work that way. It's all illusion! MM: So it's a heartwarming movie? ML: It's warming, but not heartwarming. It's sweet. There's a lot of urination and a lot of water squirting out of the ass into the mouth. Nick Capra drinking right out of the asshole of Jason Crew. MM: Charmed, I'm sure. You weren't in Farts!, though. ML: I'm a class ass. No one will invite me to any openings if I'm appearing in a movie called Farts! MM: Let's not even talk about being "invited to any openings," ba-dum-pum. But you're saying it's OK to direct and produce such a thing, just as long as you're not in it? ML: I'm very hypocritical.
MM: And it's OK to pee in people's butts? ML: Mouth. MM: No, you did it into an ass. It's in the special features of one your movies. I hear. ML: Probably.
(Pause.)
MM: What's not sexy to you about a guy? ML: When I was a hustler, I slept with four or five people a day. It always stayed up. The best thing is, don't talk to the person. After you talk, sometimes it goes down. MM: Did you ever bottom? ML: Only top. Otherwise, my asshole would look like ground beef right now—like it was eaten by a zombie. MM: And it wasn't? But wait, you missed out on all that income. ML: No one wants me to bottom. When they see my dick, they want to suck it. MM: I feel that way about doughnuts. How about on film? What's sexy? ML: I'm looking for the package—face, body, dick. Also, good attitude. I don't feel like paying money to an asshole who's torturing the crew and cast, so I send him home. That's how I get a reputation for being a bitch.
MM: Oh, that's how. Have you ever taken Viagra? ML: Once. It was horrible. I was hallucinating. I saw blue, and my chest was red. MM: At least your noodle didn't turn purple. Have you ever enlarged it? ML: No. I saw a Brazilian guy who did that. It was swollen, gross, and disgusting. Once I met a Japanese man who said he does that for a living. I said, "I don't really need you, but I'm glad to know that it's possible."
MM: Cute. Why are you so opinionated? ML: I couldn't talk about anything in Russia. I was growing up in a very strict regime. But I rebelled. I wouldn't wear a tie, and I didn't want to salute the flag. At that time in Russia, sexual education did not exist, and there were no discussions of it. I had no idea how to masturbate. There was no sharing of information—I was isolated . . . I accidentally got off on the flow of bathwater on my dick. I came and then freaked out because I didn't know what had happened or what the cum was. Then, obviously, I loved the feeling, so I tried it again. It took me a while to figure out I could do it without water and instead use my hand. I felt guilty every time—people don't understand how damaging the Communist regime is.
