BijouBlog

By Will Seagers

Hello Folks. Will Here! The title of this piece refers to a philosophical retrospective on my life and what I thought were catastrophic events, but turned out to be the flow of good fortunes that followed... "Life Goes On."

I am an emotional and caring individual who, over the years, has developed an actual talent of hiding my feelings lest they be taken advantage of or manipulated. Suffering from an almost "Pollyanna" belief in the goodness of humanity, I have had some rude awakenings.

As a child, I endured painful events both physical and social. The physical was having two congenital inguinal hernias. At the age of seven, I had my first hernia repair. Back in those days, the procedure left me with what I called a Frankenstein scar and a lack of mobility for several weeks. But, my scar healed I and moved along my path of life with few, if any, people noticing this scar even with the close up lenses of cameras to come.

On this path of life, personality traits started to surface that were sort of androgynous... the "gay thing" was starting to happen. One memory early in my childhood was having my father enroll me in little league. I liked the t-shirt and cap I wore and that's where it ended. I was terrified of throwing, running and all of the activities that would have given away my little secret. My parents saw my anxiety and let me off the hook... Life strangely move me onto another sports arena... track and field. I could run, leap and bound my way into acceptance.

In middle school, my appreciation and participation in the arts brought me further into expressing myself. And, it was at this point - a point of no return - that I said to myself: "to hell with what other people think of me!" If I appeared to be gay... so be it.

With the flurry of hormones one experiences in adolescence, it was a good thing that I had made friends with myself and enjoyed the encounters of boys discovering themselves and other boys. No longer willing to be stifled, there were some heavy encounters with my parents. Without saying it, I let them know that this is who I am. Mind you, it did not come from a place of defiance. I knew that it was a more difficult path to walk. And, one that felt right to me.

The first romantic encounter that I can remember happened in my early twenties. Although sex had been plentiful, it was just sex. Then, a most beautiful fellow entered into the picture who stopped me dead in my tracks. At that time, I was a steward in the airlines. We met in a local Jersey Shore gay club. I was thrilled when saw that our attraction was mutual. The sex was crazy - and like I had never had before. I fell head over heels in love. Tall, very well built and with a full flaxen head of hair, I thought I had met my soulmate. This was my "Pollyanna" talking. The depth of my feelings were countered by the superficiality of his. The relationship lasted only long enough for him to take notes. In short order after we parted ways, he became a steward and I was not surprised when I saw him gracing the pages of several Colt magazines. Only now do I feel the pleasure of having been a role model.

After we split up, I had a bit of a breakdown and actually got sick. This emotional and physical malady eventually faded away. I learned a lot about him, but even more about myself. It was years before I was romantically involved again. I really needed to let life go on without any entanglements.

It was about five years later when I moved to San Francisco and had my first true love affair. Tommy and I met almost immediately after I arrived in the city by the bay. It was the first time that I felt a mutual love. We moved in together after a few short weeks of courting. We remained together until his passing fourteen years later in 1989. Here is when I thought for the first time that life wasn't moving on. Losing a true partner is devastating. It took almost five years before I felt comfortable enough to experience that special feeling again. But, life moved on, after all.

Seven years later, in 1995, my spouse and I met at the Roxy Dance Hall in the Chelsea section of New York. That night, we had a lot of fun dancing up a storm and flirting like crazy. At sunrise, when we left the club, I told him that I really wanted to see him again. As overly dramatic as it seemed, I could feel that this was the person that I really wanted to be with. Life did go on for us. We became the couple of my dreams, living in NYC and then moving to the Southwest, where we bought a home together and ultimately got married in 2022.

In my mid seventies, I do a lot of recollecting and reminiscing. I am grateful for my life, my dear friends and especially my spouse. I guess I am forever that "Pollyanna," still looking forwards to the future as life goes on!

Bio of Will Seagers:

Will Seagers (also credited as Matt Harper), within his multifaceted careers and participation in numerous gay communities across the country in the '70s and '80s and beyond, worked as a print model, film performer, and DJ, just to name a few. He made iconic appearances in releases from Falcon, Hand in Hand, Joe Gage, Target (Bullet), J. Brian, Steve Scott, and more, including in lead roles in major classics like Gage's L.A. Tool & Die (1979) and Scott's Wanted (1980). He brought strong screen presence and exceptional acting to his roles and was scene partners with many fellow legends of classic porn.

Will Seagers, recent photo

By Will Seagers

Hi Folks, Will Here! In the spirit of "The Good Old Summertime," today's blog is about my life's encounters with the great and not so great bodies of water around the globe.

Born right at the edge of two signs, Capricorn (the sea goat) and Aquarius (the water bearer), I have had a life-long affinity to water. Until recently, I have had the privilege of living near an ocean, bay, lake or pond. There has always been a feeling of connection with these various bodies of water. From childhood till about twenty-five years ago, I was always within a short walk or drive to these "spiritual retreats." For the last twenty-five years, I have been surrounded by an inland ocean, so to speak - the Great American Southwest Desert!

Recounting the early years, my father was kind enough to take my brothers, sisters and myself to the "Shore" or to various man-made lakes in the northern part of my home state, New Jersey. The shore visits were always memorable because lots of our extended family lived along the coast. They were like mini family reunions. With that, a host of my aunts and uncles had us under their close watch and "policed" our activities in the water. Good thing, too, as riptides and turbulence were common occurrences. Although the beaches were always staffed with lifeguards, you could never have too many eyes on the kids in the water.

Next stop, the lakes. Another set of memories came from my father taking us kids up to "the lakes." These were in the northern counties of N.J. and usually fed by a nearby natural spring. I loved the lakes because the water was fresh and potable, unlike the brine of the ocean. But, here is where I had my first brush with mortality. I was about seven or eight and still didn't know how to swim. Normally, this would not be a problem, as I seldom ventured beyond the water's edge. But, this one outing we brought an old inner tube with us for some floating fun. Being the oldest of my siblings, I laid claim to it and promptly started floating out to the middle of the lake. I was okay until a rather nasty looking horse fly landed on my arm. Terrified, I swatted at my arm and went ass over tea kettle out of the inner tube and into about twenty feet of water. In a panic, I sunk below the water's surface. Luckily, the lifeguard snagged me by the back of the neck and hauled me to shore... safe but shaken. Swimming lessons soon followed. In the interim between my inner tube feat and learning to swim, my father was kind enough to erect an above ground pool in the backyard. It was quite sizeable and a big hit in the neighborhood... to say the least.

Learning to swim at the YMCA. Yet another fine gesture of my father was weekly visits to the local "Y." To say that I was stimulated by the size of the pool and the fact that all the men in the pool were naked was an understatement. After the initial shock of it all wore off, I was ready, willing and able to learn how to swim. My only regret was the horrific chlorine levels of this pool. My eyes burned and stayed red for hours.

Move the calendar forward fifteen years... San Juan and a few oceanic escapades. While stationed in San Juan with Eastern Airlines, I lucked out. I shared a beach side casita just minutes from the famous Condado resort beaches and their hotels. Before flights, particularly in the winter, I would grab my beach chair and head down for an hour or so of sun to flaunt aboard the airplanes. One morning while taking a dip in front of the Carribe Hilton, I saw the commotion of two locals swimming furiously into the water with bowie knives in their mouths. An unusual sight, indeed. But the swimmers around me stayed put. Moments later, all of us were shocked as the two men returned back to shore with two hammerhead sharks they retrieved from the very area we all were in! The local hotels paid men like these a bounty for catching these sharks. The other pre-flight swim that vividly comes to mind was me coming up out of the water underneath a Portuguese Man-O-War! What a horror. It seemed like forever before I had removed all of the stinging tentacles from my face. I was assisted by a hotel lifeguard who knew to spray my face with benzocaine. I guess I wasn't his first. I was thankful. In just a few short minutes, the red and swelling vanished and I was home and showering for my flight. Man-O-War, indeed!

Half a decade later I was living in San Francisco and enjoying both the frigid Pacific waters at San Gregorio beach (just north of San Francisco), and the lovely, almost tepid waters of the Russian River near Guerneville. The beach was great. And, as long as the day was hot enough the Pacific could be tolerated - albeit for brief dips! And, the little enclaves along the base of the mountains were perfect places to take full advantage of the clothing optional status!

Of course, clothing optional was the way of life along the Russian River banks, as well. Lots of romping in the nearby woods was standard bill of fare. (You just had to be careful of poison ivy and ticks!) I was privy to seeing the whole Russian River resort phenomenon explode. No more bushes and ticks. Resorts like The Woods and Fifes were a more civilized approach. And happily, the clothing optional thing followed along, too!

Oh, and did I mention that I was bi-coastal at this point? I spent half my year in S.F. and the other half on Fire Island working in The Pines as (you got it) a lifeguard at the Boatel. After getting my Red Cross certification at the downtown S.F. YMCA, I matriculated from Pines waiter to Pines lifeguard! It was a small pool with a bar and restaurant attached. So, some slinging of drinks and food came along with the title.

In the 1990s, I return to the East Coast. I was soon acquainted with Sandy Hook State Park Beach. Although from N.J. originally, I never knew about nor had I ever visited this beach. At the very tip of Monmouth County with a view of Manhattan, its white sandy beaches beckoned another clothing optional crowd. I liked the beach and the crowd and made some buddies straight up. The water's temps were comfortable and the water was quite clean... All the better to see bouncing genitals in the surf! LOL. You did have to be aware of the local park police who seemed to delight in hauling off beach patrons for anything they deemed as lude or lascivious. It was hard to stay behaved with so much flesh in your face! But behaved you were or off you went in a paddy wagon!

South Beach followed. What more can I say. It was 1994 and the gay invasion had begun down there. I had never seen anything like it. Stuff went on right on the beach with no cops to be found! I know firsthand... it happened to me. I didn't really like the water too much. It was like a bathtub and not particularly clean. Oh. And, did I mention the frequent sightings of Portuguese Men-O-War? Reason enough to stay on the beach and ogle all of the cuties! Just when I thought I saw the most handsome man in the world, the next contender blew him right off the map! But, it was a very - let me repeat, VERY - fast-paced town. It was very hard to make friends because people were here one day and gone the next! (Quel problème!)

Now in my seventies, I revel in all of my memories of the beaches, rivers, ponds and lakes. Of late, I have traded the vast oceanic vistas for those of the Southwest desert. They are quite beautiful, too. But, I will have to admit It is hard to splash around and frolic in the desert sand!

Bio of Will Seagers:

Will Seagers (also credited as Matt Harper), within his multifaceted careers and participation in numerous gay communities across the country in the '70s and '80s and beyond, worked as a print model, film performer, and DJ, just to name a few. He made iconic appearances in releases from Falcon, Hand in Hand, Joe Gage, Target (Bullet), J. Brian, Steve Scott, and more, including in lead roles in major classics like Gage's L.A. Tool & Die (1979) and Scott's Wanted (1980). He brought strong screen presence and exceptional acting to his roles and was scene partners with many fellow legends of classic porn.

Will Seagers, recent photo

By Will Seagers

Salut, les gens - Will ici! So, here's an appropriate greeting to go along with my blog title! BTW, it's how I open each blog - but, with a French twist! I have been in love with the French language and culture from a very early age... seven to be exact!

My first two years were spent in a parochial school in the northern New Jersey town of Bloomfield. I was so scared of the nuns that I literally got sick every morning before leaving for school. It was standard operating procedure for the nuns to resort to corporal punishment at the slightest infraction of their strict rules. Add to this my first grade teacher, Sister Marie, who could have been a line backer or a professional wrestler, if you catch my drift. My strongest recollection of her brutality was watching one of my classmates come hurtling out of the far end of the cloak room - some twenty feet - after raising the ire of Sr. Marie! The kids were no angels. But, IMHO, the punishment far exceeded the crimes! Oh, ironically, Sr. Marie was part of the order of "Sisters of Charity." 'Nuf said.

At the end of first grade, my parents decided to buy a lovely home in the Brookdale section of Bloomfield on the other side of town. As fate would have it, the purchase of the house left my family a bit strapped for cash. So, that year in second grade I was enrolled in a public school. Whew! Adding to my delight was my teacher, Miss Garneau, who took the place of my Sumo wrestler. She was lovely and had a kind disposition. As I remember, she had only recently moved to the United States from France. Although she never spoke French in the classroom, her accent left an indelible mark on me. This stayed with me till I got to high school and started to really learn and love the language. With Miss Garneau, I felt "rescued" from the wrestling mat! Merci!

In high school, I never considered myself to be any kind of whiz kid. That was, until I landed up in French I class with an incredibly motivating teacher. Under his tutelage, I quickly blossomed into one of his best students. He had a very direct manner and always maintained complete control over the class. With his precise methods, I learned grammatical structure, vocabulary and lots of idiomatic phrases. I remember using these idiomatic phrases, which seemed to surprise French nationals - as most were not normally included in the language's curriculum. Another of his grammatical gifts was teaching us how to line up the many types of pronouns in a sentence for proper flow. Having a techy side, the mechanics and structures intrigued me. All in all, my teacher was as impressed with me as I was with him. I stayed on with him for the next three years, learning as much as I could about the language and culture.

Originally, I had planned for a career in engineering. My foray into engineering school was short lived. Although, as I have mentioned, I have a techy side, higher mathematics did me in! I left engineering school after only a year. Then, after bouncing around in the party-like atmosphere of a community college, I realized that I did not have the discipline to be a student. And, I couldn't rationalize the continued spending on schools. Oh... and did I mention that I had just come out?! Along with this whole new world of possibilities, I was morphing from an ugly duckling teenager into a desirable young lad. I was having too much fun to buckle down and be any kind of student!

Enter Eastern Airlines... Here I got to mix fun and work! Back in the early 70s after I decided to take a break from school, I remembered hearing advertisements for openings for stewards and stewardesses on New York metro radio stations. I thought... Voilà! I might like to work for Pan Am and use some of that acquired French! So, I got all dressed up and headed into NYC for an interview. Strangely, I never never got to the Pan Am interview. Eastern Airlines' NY headquarters was right en route to the Pan Am building. At the Eastern building, I was cordially greeted and interviewed by a former flight attendant who hailed from Montreal. Detecting her accent, I proceeded to hold the rest of the interview in French. She was amused and delighted. I was hired on the spot! (This was quite a feather in my cap, as most candidates had one or more follow-up interviews.) So, off I went to Miami Springs, Florida to Eastern's training facility.

Training was fun and not too difficult. I was in a large class with a lot of nice looking and pleasant people. At the end on my training, I was assigned to JFK as my base. This was my first of three times that I called NYC my home. Because of my French qualification, I flew between New York's JFK or La Guardia to Montreal. These shuttle flights were called "L'Aero Navette" (Air Shuttle). I was a little nervous using my high school French on board. But, aside from a few chuckles over my accent, everything went quite well. However, after a year of living on Manhattan's upper East Side on a flight attendant's salary, I opted to be reassigned to San Juan, PR for my base. After having several flights there, I wanted to trade the snow shovel for a beach.

I arrived in SJU on July 4th, 1972 with a mop of very stylish long 70s hair. With the 90 degree heat and 90%+ humidity, that didn't last long. I was one of the first people to get a "Clone Cut." Short hair was becoming chic in the early 70s and the upkeep was perfect for my appearance requirements. Although I loved living in San Juan, I had rather 'turbulent" times at my new base. Power outages were a frequent occurrence. And, although I was warned by my co-workers to get a mechanical alarm clock, I did not. I missed two flights in one month. Unfortunately, that was grounds for termination. I was let go. This was a humbling experience, as I returned back to stay with my family in NJ till I got back on my feet.

Although I have never had a job requiring me to speak French since then, it has always come in handy in my other public-related jobs and my travels to France. Yes! In 1988, my dreams of traveling to Paris finally came true! That was the first trip, but certainly not my last!

One thing I noticed is how French-speaking people appreciated a few words in their native tongue. Beware. You might get corrected mid-sentence! LOL! So, even though my fluency was never 100%, my efforts were usually greeted with enthusiasm. And, to this day, I still try to remember all that I learned so many decades ago. You never know when it might be useful! Au revoir!

Bio of Will Seagers:

Will Seagers (also credited as Matt Harper), within his multifaceted careers and participation in numerous gay communities across the country in the '70s and '80s and beyond, worked as a print model, film performer, and DJ, just to name a few. He made iconic appearances in releases from Falcon, Hand in Hand, Joe Gage, Target (Bullet), J. Brian, Steve Scott, and more, including in lead roles in major classics like Gage's L.A. Tool & Die (1979) and Scott's Wanted (1980). He brought strong screen presence and exceptional acting to his roles and was scene partners with many fellow legends of classic porn.

Will Seagers, recent photo

By Will Seagers

Hi Folks! "Will at Large" here for you today on this fortuitous "Ides of March" Friday. Yes, this is a departure from my ramblings about my past in the wonderful world of porn. But, there has always been a very large part of me that is drawn to the occult and esoteric parts of life. It is an ironic contrast to the showy and external nature of porn. Here, we find ourselves diving deep inside to find answers to questions that we barely know we are asking. Yet they are there tugging at us! One of which is the Idus Martias - better know as the Ides of March!

First off, there is so much negativity and bad reputation that has come to surround "The Ides of March," which is hardly the case. I guess that most of the negativity is due to our old friend William Shakespeare. He immortalized the phrase in the infamous death of Julius Caesar in the play by the same name.

With a little combing through the internet, I have come to find that the Ides were one of four time markers used by the Romans in their Lunar Calendars. The Ides were a time marker indicating the 13th to the 15th of most months (including March). The Ides were joined by the "Kalends" - the first of the month and the "Nones" around the 7th of the month. These were time markers indicated by the phases of the Moon, so there was some variation from month to month similar to what we experience in the variations of our current calendars. My point in all of this is that it is not a given that the Ides are a bad thing. As a matter of fact, as we draw closer to this infamous day, things (for me at least) are on an unusual upswing!

For the past few days I have had a most unusual and symbolic visitor - a Peacock. And, for the past few days, he has been roosting on my roof as well as that of my next door neighbor. According to a neighborhood blog, the bird was first sighted last Friday. Animal authorities have been notified as well as the police. But, it seems no one wants the arduous task of collecting this bird, as they can be quite feisty and hard to capture. So, for the time being he has become our neighborhood mascot!

Now, not only does the Ides of March have a lot of history and symbolism tied to it... but, so does the sighting, or even moreso the visiting, of a peacock! Once again, the internet to the rescue! So many cultures revere this bird and attach symbolic strength, power, confidence and even divinity to it. I would have written it off as a freak migratory event... but, it has remained here for the past few days without enticement from me or my neighbor! So, I don my Merlin wizard cap and try to get a sense of what's going on.

OK, I am currently 73 and am trying to figure out what these "golden years" ahead of me have in store. May I mention that having had some fame and glamour earlier in my life, it is sometimes hard to face the aging game. Yes, I valiantly and religiously go to the gym and try to keep a modicum of my past physique intact. I am grateful to have the strength to do it. And, I love to write to engage my mind and keep memories intact. Sometimes this routine needs an external jolt to help these processes to continue.

The Jolts. Recently there have been three: two that were tough and one that was a near miracle and that I would like to attribute to both the "Ides and the Peacock." The two tough ones were the loss of a life long friend to cancer. And, the other was a disturbing cancellation of a friendship - the cause of which I still can't determine. The positive jolt ties in mysteriously with the arrival of my friend the peacock. Out of the blue, I received a call from a long time friend from San Francisco. Coincidentally, this person who called has had a life long relationship with the "friend" that canceled my friendship just before Christmas and was responsible for bringing me and my former friend together.

My friend calling from San Francisco heard my tale of woe concerning the "cancellation" and, in a powerful and loving way, put my whole spirit at ease. He acknowledged that this was a behavior pattern that he knew from this former friend. I felt like a millstone had been taken from around my neck. I felt guilt and blame lift from me that I had been carrying since the altercation around the holidays.

Just after this phone call, I felt a mental and spiritual shift occur. I mused over the "blessing" that I had - with the call and the visit of my peacock totem. One of my research articles from the web referred to the sighting or visiting of a peacock as a time to "open up to new possibilities and to trust in yourself more."

I am grateful for acknowledging this sixth sense that I have always had with me both on and off the screen. It is definitely part of who I am. Be aware of your blessings.

Bio of Will Seagers:

Will Seagers (also credited as Matt Harper), within his multifaceted careers and participation in numerous gay communities across the country in the '70s and '80s and beyond, worked as a print model, film performer, and DJ, just to name a few. He made iconic appearances in releases from Falcon, Hand in Hand, Joe Gage, Target (Bullet), J. Brian, Steve Scott, and more, including in lead roles in major classics like Gage's L.A. Tool & Die (1979) and Scott's Wanted (1980). He brought strong screen presence and exceptional acting to his roles and was scene partners with many fellow legends of classic porn.

Will Seagers, recent photo

Now I know by the title of this blog, you are thinking: “Oh Sweet! Josh is writing a blog about Bijou Video’s Beat Cop Donnie Russo," and it would make sense to think that by the way I formed the title. The truth is, I’d love to write a blog, again, about Donnie Russo. Some of the most hysterical times on and off the set were with Donnie. When he pulled out his dick on the 10 freeway and raised his hips up so high that the truck drivers passing by could see his boner. That was on the way to a Palm Springs shoot. Or numerous other times we shot together, then would hang out in West Hollywood. Hey, there’s even the best story of all in my blog called “A Salty Fuck in Saugatuck,” starring Lord Russo, when we shot the movie Thrill Me! But I am writing about a different RUSSO. However, I did come across a great recent interview with Donnie Russo by Jim Jordan (thankfully not the douche bag Jordan you might be thinking of) from The Fire Island News. The below “after” photos are from that interview; it’s a great read.

The Russo I am writing this blog about is a bit of a mystery. I came home from a hard day’s work at Petco, yes Petco, sorry to destroy the illusion! My partner Tony and I are both around retirement age and we like to keep active, so we punish ourselves by doing a “Boot Camp” like workout unloading the Petco delivery truck at 4am every Tuesday and then over another couple of days we stock, restock and re-face the store. It’s exactly the job I want, no thinking, just doing… busy work. Those 40lb bags of dog food will keep you in shape! 20+ years of producing, directing and running a production department are behind me. As are the years after that working in customer service as a spa supervisor at the JW Marriott’s 35,000 square foot high end facility. I’m looking forward to retiring soon and winding down the work I do to have time for myself and hobbies that are key for me right now. One of my hobbies that I’ve written about before is re-watching some of the Catalina Video movies we made and cutting clips, trailers and “PG” full feature versions for my YouTube Channel.

I just worked on a movie I produced that was directed by my right hand man on the crew, Brad Austin. It was a movie we were so excited to be able to make. Once the actual sound stage “airplane set” was secured and the cost approved by the GM, it was on. The airplane set was actually used in the opening scene of the original Charlie’s Angels movie with Drew Barrymore, Cameron Diaz, and Lucy Liu. The movie was Cockpit: Everybody’s Going Down! I used some cool new AI technology and stripped the original music from the background, leaving only the actors' dialogue. I reused two songs from the movie which were great, but honestly the other original “muzak” throughout was simply annoying, so I replaced it courtesy of my CANVA membership. All with the blessing of Brad Austin, of course. I then cut the sequel Cockpit: Survival of the Fittest onto the end of the first movie and made one big brand new 40 minute PG version called Cockpit: The Ultimate Edition. I did this because my dear friend Brad Austin really dreamed of having this done, and like I said, It’s my new hobby. It turned out great! (Click this link for the Cockpit trailer or click this link for Cockpit: The Ultimate Edition, the full movie.) I’m supposed to get Brad over here so we can record the director’s commentary version to put on my YouTube Channel this spring.

So anyway, I got home from Petco (where the pets go) today and I saw this really nice comment pop up on my tablet. The comment was attached to the full version of Cockpit from YouTuber @YouSoRusso. You know at first I thought the same things as you. Is that Donnie Russo’s handle? It’s not, but it’s funny how name recognition works. Here is the comment followed by my response:

@YouSoRusso (edited):
Josh, You really did make some special stuff. Like, you got a group of guys together on a shoestring budget and took us all on sexy gay adventures. In the skies, In Chicago, In Arizona, in Yosemite, In L.A., on a crash-landed island, even to the International Mr. Leather Competition. All in pursuit of making phenomenal stories. Stories that stand the test of time to the point that thousands of people will come and sit down and watch porn films with no porn 25 years after their releases. The vibes of guys just having a good time and some bros coming together having fun always comes through. Thank you for preserving these gems of a forgotten time and here’s to some more remasters!

@TheJoshEliot:
YouSoRusso, I just got home from work and saw your comment pop up. I have to say, your kind words really made an impact with me. Thank you very much. You described my crew and I to a T. Most of the movies were made with just enough money to pay the models, buy the still photographer his Fuji Film, cover our location fees and lunches, without leaving much at all for a prop. Dildo, model airplane, tie-die T-shirts for a certain Boy Band, or to get Steve Rambo a really fancy haircut. We all were in it for the stories we could tell and the love of movie-making. Much to the dismay of the GM at Catalina, we displayed “rebel-ish” behavior. Many times I told my producer I was making a themed movie he approved of and then completely changed what I shot. If I knew my producer, early on, would not approve an idea, I would simply show him one script and go and direct the real one I wanted to shoot. I would just deal with the wrath once he watched it for approval to release on VHS or DVD, and by that time he wouldn’t be so irate, hopefully.

I guess I’m referring to all of this because of what you mentioned. It truly does blow me away that our movies, which we always thought would have a very limited audience, are now seeing the light of day on social media and actually being enjoyed. I also love the fact that I get to tweak them when making their PG rated debuts. I might not feel “so great” if someone uninvolved with the production of them did the same, music changes, editing changes, etc., but I figured if I made them from scratch as writer, director or producer, it kind of entitles us to make a Director’s Cut, albeit 20 to 30 years later. The changes I make on them honestly are all things I would have done in the first place if we had access to things like: a music library, sound effects, color correction, buzz remove, goodness - even slow motion! Or fast motion! The fact is we had zero bells and whistles at our disposal when editing, so we always relied on our imaginations and shot the movies so they would work with our limited editing abilities. Thank you for getting all of this, as shown in your note to me, that means so much. I’ve written so much right now, and as I think about it, I have a blog due two weeks from Friday for BijouWorld.com. I’m going to use your comment as inspiration for that blog and include what we have both written. I’ll go one step further and say I’m titling the blog: “You So RUSSO”... (though I might add a subtitle).

Your comment really hit home with me… and I thank you. You can sign up to get the BijouWorld.com blogs emailed to you each week. I’m currently on my 51st and having a blast reminiscing about the golden days at Catalina Video. Take Care.

Bio of Josh Eliot:

At the age of 25 in 1987, Josh Eliot was hired by Catalina Video by John Travis (Brentwood Video) and Scott Masters (Nova Video). Travis trained Eliot on his style of videography and mentored him on the art of directing. Josh directed his first movie, Runaways, in 1987. By 2009 when Josh parted ways with Catalina Video, he'd produced and directed hundreds of features and won numerous awards for Best Screenplay, Videography, Editing, and Directing. He was entered into the GayVN Hall of fame in 2002.