In 1972, “Deep Throat” director Gerard Damiano asked Georgina to star in his next film. Ten years and over a hundred films later, she sought refuge in the Hollywood Hills with the love of her life and hid out for the next thirty years. Having written a review of her memoir, “The Devil Made Me Do It”, I decided to interview her. Here are excerpts.
How would you describe growing up?
Daddy was a doodle-bugger. That’s what the seismologists that worked for the oil companies of the ’30s were called. Probably because, like their namesake, their main function was to drill holes. The actual bugs by that name crawled down into theirs. The men so named drilled their holes in the pastures and fields of Texas, Louisiana, and Oklahoma in order to drop a small bit of dynamite into the earth, set it off, and record the resulting shudder on a seismograph. The squiggles made, told those in the know, where to drill for oil. This job required relocation every couple of months. Most of my toddler years were spent in the backseat of a Ford coupe.
Dad’s ROTC requirement for attendance at Texas A&M; where he earned his geologists degree, landed him in the Army as a second lieutenant when WW II called upon him to save the world. Mom was delighted to trade in the grunge of oil fields for the splendor of the Officers’ Clubs and quickly joined the Women’s Motor Corps so she, too, could wear a snappy uniform. Then we moved to Gainesville, a wide spot in the road to Oklahoma. I had just started second grade in San Antonio where one could be promoted at mid-term and that’s where I was placed upon arrival in the new school. However, when registering for school the next fall, the powers that reigned decreed that I was too young to go into third grade, so back to (Ho Hum) “Dick and Jane” and second grade I went. This scarred me for life. The up side was that mother never let school interfere with my education or desire to be a ballet dancer.
How did you end up on Broadway?
Ballet required equipment I hadn’t been issued, so after the years spent pursuing it in vain, I was thrilled to get a job in the Broadway musicals restaged for the State Fair Music Hall at the Fair Grounds of Dallas, Texas in 1954. I joined Chorus Equity and hopped the first plane to New York at the end of that summer. I still went to ballet classes, but I knew by then that “Swan Lake” was not in my future. I auditioned for everything and got a job in the chorus of the premier supper club of the day, The Latin Quarter. From there I made it into the chorus of the Broadway musical “Pajama Game” as a replacement. Thanks to the mentorship of the stage manager (a womanizer) who found my giving nature just the ticket, I was awarded the dance lead, the role created by Carol Haney and originally understudied by Shirley MacLaine. This provided me with the creds to audition for summer stock and industrial shows and I made a good living at that for the next ten years. Oh, I also was in “Cabaret” on Broadway, playing one of the two ladies in the number by that name.
Why did you start a film production company?
Growing long in the tooth–as dancers refer to the aging process–I pursued work in the production areas of all things theatrical. Film beckoned. In “Sweet Charity” I was MacLaine’s camera double; and “Hello Dolly”, as New York dance captain whilst dancing my little toes off for Michael Kidd and his assistant at that time, Michael Bennett. They were two taskmasters that went through dancers like they were Kleenex, and I did not rocket me to stardom. I went to work for JC Penny Co. as a producer of audio/visual presentations and filmed commercials–hard, dull work in a stultifying corporate surrounding. I wanted to make “meaningful” films. So, when a hippy flower child entered my life through the portals of a Peace March, I threw off all traces of all things “establishment,” including a ten-plus year pseudo marriage, and followed the Siren’s call of the anti-war movement into the bowels of lower Manhattan where a warehouse was turned into a film commune/studio aptly named The Pickle Factory.
How did you get into porn?
Keeping the rent paid on that warehouse was a big problem. We were far more interested in making films that would serve as scathing indictments of the government and the war in Vietnam than we were in making money. As the dreaded first of one month loomed, I picked up a “Showbiz” paper and combed the ads for work–any kind of work. Several ads were seeking actresses who were willing to show tit. I was 36-years-old and had no illusions about my appeal in this area. But I called the number in the first ad and said something to the effect that I could do anything on a film set that might be needed even though I was probably not what they were looking for in an actress. They needed a boat for their location. I knew someone who had one. They needed men to play tough sailors. I knew a lot of tough looking guys–most of them worked for us when we had work. They needed an older actress to play the madam of this white-slave-trade epic. Be still my heart! “I’m an actress,” I replied with conviction. They bought it. I did it. One of the guys working lights on the shoot asked me if I’d play the lead in his film, “High Priestess of Sexual Witchcraft.” Could I say no? No. I didn’t find out it was a hard-core film until we got into shooting the hard-core core of the movie. Surprise. Surprise. And that’s how that got started.
So how did the starring role in “The Devil In Miss Jones” come your way?
I’ve since heard that Gerard Damiano was asked by the backers of “Deep Throat”–the film that brought pornography into the mainstream theaters in the early ’70s– to make another film. Gerard later confided to me that it was an offer he couldn’t refuse. I was shooting High Priestess of Sexual Witchcraft at the time. Marc Stevens was playing the High Priest. He suggested I contact Harry Reams, the star of “Deep Throat,” and Damiano’s assistant director/producer as the team was about to shoot another film. I called Harry. He called Damiano and asked if there were any jobs to be filled. There was an opening for a cook. I took it. When I went by the office to pick up money for the food purchases, Gerard asked me to read a scene with an actor auditioning for the role of Mr. Abaca in the new film, “The Devil In Miss Jones.” He offered me the role of Miss Jones. I saw only a chance to do a lead role in a movie, a secret ambition my entire life. The subsequent hoop-la over the film came as a complete surprise. My role as a porn star was launched. I’m still trying to get used to it.
What do you remember most about those days?
To tell you the truth, very little. They say if you remember the sixties, you weren’t doing them right. We were doing them right.
What prompted your mother to join you on the road when you were doing your strip act?
True friends in New York (my former spouse whom I had abandoned to seek enlightenment in the world of film and pot being one) called my mother and told her of my deteriorating condition. Unfortunately, pot had not replaced my drug of choice, alcohol. She packed a bag–something she was really good at–and hopped the next plane. When I reeled in one evening after doing my shake and bake bit on 42nd street, there she was, with a small group of those who cared enough about me to make me face myself. She was all set to yank me back to Texas and wring me dry. I pleaded that I had to show up in Atlantic City for one of my burlesque gigs. She said she would accompany me, and then yank me back to Texas for rehab. That’s why we ended up together in a hotel room in Atlantic City–faced with an infestation of mites on my show prop, a six-foot long boa constrictor. When you strip, you gotta have a gimmick. The snake was mine: due homage to the scene that serendipitously became the logo of the film, “The Devil In Miss Jones.” The scene in my book, “The Devil Made Me Do It,” that depicts the episode in which my mother and I are stripped naked in a bathtub delousing the six-foot long snake, is John’s favorite. Oh, John is my truelove, life partner, and husband since January 16th, 2000. The Devil made me do it. He made me write the book.
So how is retirement and true love working out for you?
Retirement? I haven’t worked this hard since I was in summer stock. You see, I couldn’t find a publisher who wanted my book as I had written it. I just couldn’t let someone else write it to suit the porn market. So, like the “Little Red Hen” of children’s verse, I said, “Very well, I’ll print the book myself.” And I did. Hence the name of my publishing empire, Little Red Hen Books. Had I but known–a phrase I swear I will never use in a book–how much work would be involved in the bookkeeping alone, much less being the sole employee in the shipping department, I mightn’t have been so arrogant. Fortunately, my wonderful husband, John, has the patience of six saints, and is happy to haul me and my boxes of books to the bookstore reading/signing events that are another piece of the book promotion puzzle that I’m just beginning to put together. Knowing what I now know, would I do it all again? You bet your bippy! I’ve had more fun in my lifetime than most people can even imagine. Today is the best day I’ve had yet. I expect tomorrow will be even better. I sincerely hope I did something wonderful enough in some previous life that all the good fortune I enjoy has been duly earned, ’cause I sure hate to think of what I might have to do in some future existence to pay for it all.
What made you decide to write a memoir?
My husband was convinced I was a bigger name than I am and was sure if I just wrote a book about my life in porn, it would become a best seller and we could redo the kitchen.
Talk about being a writer
I used to say to people who would ask me if I thought they could learn to dance, “Everyone can dance. Some just do it so well others can’t help but watch them. But to get that good, you have to do it every day. If you can’t wait to get to class, and dance in your dreams, you might be able to make a living at it some day. If not–just enjoy what you can do, and what others do that’s fun and thrilling to watch.” I’ve been writing as long as I’ve been dancing. That is, like, forever. If someday, someone, or a lot of someones, get a kick out of what I do, that will be great. But, I’ll keep doing it because I have to, not because of that improbable scenario.
What’s next on the agenda?
The sci-fi novel I put aside to get “The Devil Made Me Do It” done. Five fifteen-year-old boys, in a Utopia of the future, discover startling evidence that their perfect world was not set in place by Starmen, as they had been taught, but was maneuvered into place by five wise men of their past–our present. Working title: “Hoax.” Also I’m hard a work on the sequel to The Devil Made Me Do It. Working title, “Going Down in Flames.” I plan to have that one out by Christmas.
What are some of the lessons life has taught you?
1) Moisturize. Every day. All over. Figuring out how to reach all of you is great exercise.
2) Relax. Sounds simple, but it’s a very difficult thing to learn how to do at will. It’s also the only way you can reach all of you.
3) Enjoy yourself. Try to find a way to enjoy what you have to do, and try to do a lot of what you enjoy doing.
4) Ignore annoyances. Most things will work themselves out, given time.
5) Hold tight to friendships. Nothing else, except true love, is as important.
6) Don’t argue with other’s beliefs. You can’t change ’em, anyway.
7) If you’re lucky enough to have found your own true love, cut everyone else some slack.
8) Make time to read.
9) Get enough fiber in your diet.
That’s about it. Thanks for asking.
