Jesse Friedman is 20 years old. A former resident of Fort Lauderdale, Florida, he prefers the moniker Hi-Rez over his Christian name. Like most 20-year-old Floridians, he loves pornography. Unlike most 20-year-old Floridians, he’s a Penalty/Sony recording artist, so when he tweeted at Pornhub, the YouTube of smut, asking if they’d give him a lifetime membership in exchange for an original song about the site, the company responded to his request with an emphatic yes. A man of his word, Hi-Rez then went into the studio and, in one magical hour, cranked out a song titled, natch, “Pornhub.”
Which explains why he’s here, in a hillside mansion in the otherwise unglamorous enclave of Whittier, California, surrounded by porn stars, camera equipment, cookie jars filled with weed, tired-looking men holding clipboards, and bored-looking members of his entourage. The time has come to shoot a music video for “Pornhub”. Which explains why I’m here.
Videos by VICE
The interior of the mansion is nondescript in a decidedly new-money way: An enormous flat-screen TV blasts Olympics footage in the living room to an audience of no one. A curio cabinet filled with action figures and memorabilia from the Saw franchise sits in one corner; a cage full of exotic cats sits in the other. I hear the click of heels above me, but the only person within my eyesight is a middle-aged man with a buzz cut and dazed expression. He wanders around slowly, saying nothing. I take a seat on an overstuffed black leather couch and wait for my contact, Hi-Rez’s manager, to find me.
I’m eventually led upstairs, where filming is taking place in one of the bedrooms. Hi-Rez’s manager introduces me to his employer as “Megan from VICE.” “Is that her last name? ‘From VICE?’” Hi-Rez retorts. Along with the already exhausted looking crew, I exchange awkward chuckles at this bon mot. Hi-Rez is, indeed, 20 years old. He wears tube socks and sweat shorts, and his face is lightly dusted with acne – he looks, acts and exudes his age. He sits on a pile of beanbags that have been placed to give him a height advantage over the two tanned women in pink bikinis that fawn over him whenever the camera rolls. The three of them frolic on a velour Playboy blanket, the kind you’d buy from a kiosk in the mall or the trunk of a van outside a gas station. Hi-Rez’s shirt reads “Big Dreams,” which, given the context, seems very apropos.
Porn legend Eva Angelina, sitting on a couch behind the crew, picks up one of the two copies of Guns & Ammo lying next to her and holds it to her chest. “Looks like she really likes guns!” she remarks, referring to the owner of the mansion. I can already tell Eva will be the sunshine of this set. I take a photo of her giving an electric pink-nailed thumbs-up next to one of the gun mags:
Hi-Rez pantomime-raps along to his song (sample lines: “Jerkin’ off till my elbow’s / Fuckin’ sore as hell, though / I don’t really care, though”) as the pink bikinied women writhe around him. His manager nods along, even though he’s surely heard the (admittedly catchy) song at least a dozen times today. The owner of the house, a middle-aged woman who resembles the actress Louise Lasser, nods along as well. “I love the song!” she gushes. She asks the director if he wants to include a shot of two of her exotic cats fucking in the video. According to her, whenever you put ’em together, they just start going at it. She reckons it might “be cute.” He responds positively, but without making a commitment to her.
Scene in the can, I smoke a cigarette outside with a fella by the name of Huggy. Along with being a loving father and husband, he’s also a director of films for Brazzers. (Brazzers, for the uninitiated, is one of the biggest porn producers in the business, specialising in gals with big knockers gettin’ fucked but good.) He’s telling me about a profile of a pornographer he recently read. “It was good,” he says, “but the guy was just the worst.” According to Huggy, the man in question came off as incredibly egotistical, to the extent that he feels the profile negatively reflected the entire porn industry. “I wanted to send an Edible Arrangement [to everyone who read it] or something, to say, like, ‘We aren’t all like that!’”
Eva comes out and smokes a menthol alongside us. She pokes away at a phone ensconced in a bright-pink case. A guy from Hi-Rez’s entourage wanders outside, saying the word hashtag to no one in particular. Eva takes a selfie. “What you doin’ with that?” he asks. “Putting it on Instagram,” she replies. “Can you hashtag me?” he requests. “Sure, what’s your name?” she enquires. “Kush Friendly ENT.” “Kush friendly EMT?” she confusedly asks. “No, Kush Friendly E-N-T,” he clarifies. “Like entertainment.”
Hi-Rez’s hangers-on all wear hats and are smoking weed. They’re doing very little, other than the aforementioned weed smoking and checking their cell phones. They don’t even gawk at the porn stars; when they actually talk to them, they do so respectfully. They mostly wander in silence, on call to smoke more weed with their employer. (By “their employer,” I mean “their friend, the 20-year-old from Ft. Lauderdale.”)
Morale on the set is high, the environment lighthearted. All the porn stars are jovial and jokey; their jokes usually involving humorous puns about their profession. “I’m a carnivore at heart!” Eva yells. “I can’t live without my tube steak!” It’s impressive how quick these gals can turn it on – pun intended. Cheerful and gay before becoming seriously, intensely, mock-gay, they instantly kiss and rub and make bedroom eyes and whatnot as soon as the director says, “Action!” I admire their professionalism. I watch Eva and another broad lick whipped cream off each other’s tits.
“I’m not gonna lie,” Hi-Rez’s manager says. “This beats being in my office. This beats any video we’ve ever shot.” Huggy and another guy on the crew talk camera lenses as the licking transpires. They’re oblivious.
Time moves slowly, as it does with anything entertainment-industry-related. The dazed middle-aged man I encountered earlier explains film shoots to me: “It’s hurry up to wait,” he says. “Tell you what – it doesn’t matter if it’s a Miley Cyrus video or if it’s a porno. It’s always hurry up and wait.” He keeps trying to get me to take a picture of an enormous shark statue next to the pool, in the interest of making it look like it’s biting one of the twerking asses currently being filmed. My camera won’t focus. “Come over here,” he slurs. “Just take pictures of the asses.”
Many hours have passed, and morale has decreased significantly. We’ve been privy to a lot: hours of twerking, topless pole dancing, energy-drink product placement, the eating out of an Eva Angelina-signature Fleshlight and the mock sucking of the dick of a bear from the motion picture Ted. Even Hi-Rez himself is pooped. “I’m done,” he says. “I’m done. I’ve seen enough tits and ass for today.” Eva jokes that the shoot has gone on so long, she’s “gonna ask for [her] anal rate.” “Do you take PayPal?” Huggy asks. “Actually, I do!” she cheerfully replies.
The smell of weed smoke sits heavy in the air. It’s 7 PM; the crew has been here since 8AM. Everyone types away on his or her phone. The porn stars perk up when Hi-Rez’s manager suggests a Starbucks run. Before the caffeine can be procured, however, a wrap is called. They nixed the cat scene.
For behind-the-scenes footage of Hi-Rez’s “Pornhub,” watch Pornhub’s making-of video.
Follow Megan Koester on Twitter.
