While other children enjoyed Disney classics, author/comedian Andrew Goffman took pleasure in another type of classic: the XXX porn video, beginning with titles, amongst others, as Sleeping Booty, Pocahotass and his all-time favorite, Star Whores featuring “Princess Laid Her.” He was just 11-years-old at the time.
The Accidental Pervert which opened January 23rd off-Broadway at the Player’s Theatre in the West Village, chronicles Andrew Goffman’s 15-year porn addiction.
Andrew’s adventures in porn begin, he explains, when, during a childhood rummage through his father’s closet, he happens upon an unlabeled box of XXX videos. He finds himself enthralled noting that it’s his first opportunity to view naked women not in the National Geographic. Over time, the VCR becomes his best friend – the one who gives him “a twisted impression of women” and helps him through the warped transition from innocent kid to teenaged pervert. He calls the box “curious” and says he is drawn to it like Superman to Kryptonite. The box helps him through the tough times like his parents breakup, for example, offering comfort and companionship.
Sound sad? Sort of, but not exactly.
As he grows into young adulthood, Andrew graduates to updated titles: On Golden Blonde, For Your Thighs Only and I Know Who You Did Last Summer, to name just a few of the less graphic titles. At some point, he supplements his video companionship with actual boy/girl interaction even if his behavior is somewhat unorthodox for a boy his age. It’s not until he goes to college and meets Dina DiBona (from Bologna) (yes!) that he gets any real sexual experience.
In an hilariously funny monologue, accompanied by props that include Porn Flakes, a giant (GIANT) tub of Vaseline and disturbingly, way too many crumpled Kleenexes, Andrew Goffman takes us on this 15-year journey. He feels fated to his plight, he tells us, having been born in 1969 in a town called Blue Ball (near Intercourse), PA. As a child, he lived on Woodcock Lane. What other conclusion can one make? Unsurprisingly and somewhat unceremoniously, his addiction ends the moment he meets his wife, a hot Latina Goddess. It’s at this point the show slows a bit. In fact, the recounting of his courtship, marriage and the birth of his daughter are the only boring segments of an otherwise funny, touching and even poignant memoir. But then, it makes you wonder if that isn’t the case for marriage itself.
There are certainly some tender moments in this tale, specifically in the author’s remembrance of his father, now deceased. He rationalizes that the box somehow provided an unspoken, absentee closeness with his father in a strange, though admittedly, distorted way. He goes so far as to suggest the box may have been placed, strategically, for his personal discovery (though many a parent would find that difficult to relate to and repulsed by the thought).
Although this show is touted as the true accounting of one man’s descent into the perils (and joys) of pornography, it’s hard not to wonder how much of it is supplemented by Goffman’s imagination and natural comedic abilities. It’s also hard to believe that a real addiction can be beaten by “true love.” But, if this is the case, it’s comforting to walk away with the realization that he’s probably not so different from any other young man. He just had visual aids.
The Player’s Theatre
115 MacDougal Street
New York
For tickets, call 212.352.3101 or visit www.theatremania.com
