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Celebrity Homes We'd Most Like to Visit Slide Show

Celebrity Homes We'd Most Like to Visit Slide Show


George Clooney, Lake Como, Italy

It has been confirmed. George Clooney has split with his Italian model girlfriend Elisabetta Canalis. But he remains true to his first Italian love: his villa on Lake Como. Not that we blame him, of course. After all, picturesque Lake Como — just across the Swiss border in northern Italy — has been cherished as a playground for the rich and famous for centuries. If you’re in the area and would like to have lunch with George (so he won’t be alone), take him to Îl Gatto Nero, where the view alone should be enough to take his mind off fair Elisabetta. For a while, anyway. After lunch, suggest taking a dip in Villa d’Este’s glistening pool.

Oprah, Montecito, Calif.

Conquer the hearts and minds of America? Check! Make a billion dollars? Easy! Start a television network? Done! “The Oprah Winfrey Show” is now a thing of the past and everyone is crying (except maybe Ellen, whose daytime ratings are sure to benefit). Maybe the pair can laugh about it together over juicy steaks at Lucky’s in Montecito, the elite California coastal town where Ellen used to live and where Oprah’s $52 million home stands, modestly named “The Promised Land.” If classic steakhouses aren’t their thing, perhaps they’d prefer a taste of Provence at nearby Stella Mare’s. Hmm, someone call Gayle, she’ll decide.

Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, South of France and Valpolicella, Italy

You won’t have to clamor for attention when hanging out with the Brangelina clan when you offer an educated, location-specific dining suggestion! They don’t have time to even remember what hemisphere they’re in, so if at their South of France digs, suggest the Les Terrasses du Golf restaurant in the nearby town of Brignoles for the red mullet fillets with Parmesan and fennel. If, instead, they are at their Valpolicella property in northern Italy, take them to the family-owned and inviting Trattoria Nicola for some local treats like Amarone-braised steak. Either way, you’ll quickly climb the ranks to becoming their favorite.

Celine Dion, Île Gagnon, Quebec

In Quebec’s Mille Île river, the greatest singer in the world — the one, the only, Celine... DION! — makes her home on a private island estate called Île Gagnon. Surrounded by security, the island offers celebrity creature comfort not too far from the cosmopolitan bustle of Montreal. After a day of buzzing around the island with a speedboat and telephoto lens, the town of Laval offers your best choices in dining. Those in the know stop into Le Mitoyen for the elk and then a sumptuous dessert of salted chocolate cream. And, though you probably won’t spot the notoriously private Dion, Laval est…MAGNIFIQUE!

The Seinfelds, Amagansett, NY

The palatial home of Jerry Seinfeld and family is known best for two things: its, ahem, palatialness and as the rendezvous point for then — newly — single Madonna and Yankees slugger Alex Rodriguez. Lucky for A-Rod, the Seinfelds have a mansion for a guest house, complete with a baseball field. Next time you’re in the neighborhood for a friendly game of hardball with Jesus Luz, Madonna, Jerry, and Jessica, succumb to the all-American quaintness of the Hamptons with a trip to the Amagansett Farmer’s Market for some locally-sourced hot dogs and ice cream.

Martha Stewart, Seal Harbor, Maine

When Martha Stewart isn’t weaving pure happiness and gold out of jute twine and a fig, she can often be found at what she has referred to as her “favorite home” in Seal Harbor off the coast of Maine. If you are having a Cabot Cove kind of day and become tired of combing rocky Maine beaches, head over to Stewman’s Lobster Pound in the town of Bar Harbor. The name alone suggests you’ll run into Martha. And, if that doesn’t work, the laws of probability practically guarantee you know at least one person in her army of domestics who could leave a back door unlocked.

Mariah Carey, Windermere Island, Bahamas

The site of Mariah Carey and Nick Canon’s wedding in 2008 was, surprise, a private island in the Bahamas. Known as Windermere Island, it is connected to Eleuthera Island by only a small, gated walkway. Though accounts of the nuptials paint it as nothing short of a breathtaking affair, there’s something about flying live Maine lobster onto an island of the Bahamas that feels like cheating. Instead, you’ll probably want try something a little more native like local-style ribs or conch at Barbie’s Snack & Notions in Tarpum Bay on Eleuthera Island.

Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin, Hampstead, England

What began as the purchase of a single home, formerly owned by Kate Winslet, in the North of London escalated to the purchase of the adjoining home, and then to the purchase of a third nearby house creating nothing less than a fortress. But how else can Gwyneth Paltrow be qualified to dispense domestic and lifestyle advice if not by being the biggest and best life-leading domestic person? It is common sense, really. In keeping with the theme, Paltrow likes to source her ingredients from posh marketplaces like C. Lidgate for poultry and other meats and the Notting Hill shop Speck for all things Italian.

John Travolta and Kelly Preston, Ocala, Fla.

Outside the small Florida city of Ocala is home of John Travolta and actress/wife Kelly Preston. Here, Travolta has created the home of his (and many others’) dreams. Mimicking an airport terminal in looks and also function, it has a commercial-sized landing strip where the actor and avid aviator can land his Boeing 707, literally pulling it into the backyard. Travolta also has a much more modest Gulfstream II private jet, which he can more easily maneuver around the region. If you ever find yourself in the jumpseat, get Johnny to land in Gainesville and take you to Bonefish Grill for their great seafood and dine-at-the-bar specials. Or fly you to Disney World. Or New York City. Or Geneva. Fly wherever you feel like flying since the airport is also his house.

Johnny Depp and Vanessa Paradis, Little Halls Pond, Bahamas, and South of France

Ever heard of Little Halls Pond Cay in the Bahamas? No? That’s because you aren’t invited. It is the private Bahamian getaway of Johnny Depp, his wife Vanessa Paradis, and their two kids. Instead of trying to get there, head up to nearby Nassau for some decadent lobster bisque at Café Matisse, an Italian bistro housed in a century-old colonial home. What? They’re at their South of France pad, you say? No worries, you can visit Johnny and the kids there too at their Plan-de-la-Tour house, near St. Tropez. Don’t hurt yourself craning your neck in their (or some other famous person’s) direction at the St. Tropez beachfront and celebrity-favorite Club 55.


11 Celebrity Sex Tapes, Ranked by Cinematic Value

I've watched a lot of celebrity sex tapes. Dozens of them. Rarely are they titillating&mdashbut more interesting is how much they do or don't offer a glimpse into the private lives of those involved. They leave you wondering: Are they being themselves? Are they acting? Are they acting well? Why did they choose the kitchen? When you're filming your sexual activities, self-presentation is paramount.

After watching a few of these, you can easily spot the frauds, whose construction is manipulated down to the last frame (see: Kim Kardashian, who now has the best-selling sex tape of all time). As in Kardashian's case, a sex tape can skyrocket someone to fame (or at least infamy) on the other hand, a sex tape can ultimately bring ruin to an independent media company (*cough*Hulk Hogan*cough*).

Considering this is pornographic genre of great cultural interest, I've ranked 11 pivotal celebrity sex tapes here from best to worst&mdashas measured purely by their cinematic qualities.

Note: Esquire does not endorse theft or unpermitted distribution of copyrighted material, but these have all been widely circulated, commented upon, and in some cases publicly approved and/or mocked by the participants.

This is one of the earliest and most notorious celebrity sex tapes, having nearly ruined Lowe's career. Watching it is a dull and queasy task. It's filmed from an unlevel tripod in yellowy light (gotta remember that white balance) and filled with white noise and blurry group sex whose indistinctness only leads you to imagine the worst. Alas, the '80s were not as glamorous as previously reported.

No one asked Screech for a sex tape. But Screech felt like unleashing one upon the world, and the result is even more nausea-inducing than one might expect. Diamond films two women from central porn casting, asking them, "Do you want to see the monster?" He later admitted that he used a "stunt wang." Sounds about right.

Durst keeps the camera on the woman (somewhat understandably), not allowing us to take in the wider mise-en-scène and forcing us to identify him by his sleeve tats, before an abrupt mid-video pan to his face in closeup. This is just sloppy filmmaking, especially from a veteran music video director.

There are about as many Paris Hilton sex tapes as entries in the Hunger Games franchise. None of them is pleasant. The most famous, One Night in Paris, is a textbook example of everything you shouldn't do with your home porno. It's introduced by sleaze Rick Salomon himself, who thinks more highly of his skills than he should (his creepy catchphrase: She likes it. ). Hilton, meanwhile, is so bored out of her mind that at one point she stops to answer her phone. There's no fun in watching them debate where to station the camera on a table. (Tip: Handheld is almost always better than stationary photography, especially webcams, which feel distant and clinical.) And the video makes a compelling case for never using the night vision setting to film your own sex, thereby giving it the dreaded Blair Witch/Zero Dark Thirty effect. At one point Salomon, chewing gum and staring at a monitor displaying his own cock, comments, "It looks like we're having a good time." No, it doesn't, Rick. It really doesn't.

It's hard to feel good about Farrah Superstar: Backdoor Teen Mom. She was a former teen mom, now a regular mom craving publicity. He&mdashhe being famed porn star James Deen&mdashhas been accused of rape and sexual assault by multiple women. Abraham claimed the tape was a leak. Turns out she made $1.5 million for selling it to Vivid Entertainment. But, technically speaking, this production could have been worse. It was even good enough to spawn a sequel, Farrah 2: Backdoor and More. So there's that.

Befitting its star, this is just out-and-out weird. Simmons enters to Foreigner's "I Want to Know What Love Is" as a candle flickers in the background. He wears only a t-shirt (never a good look for a guy), and the woman seems game for anything but kissing him. The faraway stationary black-and-white photography works, for once, lending a surreal vibe to the proceedings.

It's rigorously controlled, with annoying soundtrack cues, though that should surprise no one who has followed Kardashian's career. In many ways this is the earliest glimpse into her ability to exploit her own bodily gifts for monolithic public attention. She shows little interest in the sex, but defends the naturalness of her breasts to the camera and insists that Ray J record her "bling" all the way down to her feet. She shows the slightest bit of humanity when Ray J shoots her unpacking, but it's quickly replaced by a smile. Kardashian is a pro.

Hogan's tape appears to be recorded by a security camera like some kind of voyeuristic Steven Soderbergh experiment. You can't see much, but the surprisingly clear audio and subtitles suggest a gentlemanly encounter, ended by Hogan giving the woman a goodnight kiss and telling her, "You're awesome."

It doesn't hold a candle to her magnum opus with Tommy, but Pam as always is a master of the costume. Here she's wearing knee-high boots in a Stevie-Nicks-sex-goddess look. You nearly forget Bret Michaels is in the room.

Farrell lays on the charm thick, which might be annoying if he didn't do it so well. He improvises increasingly inventive compliments for model Nicole Narain in his Irish lilt: "If a fucking camera could blush, this thing would be fucking red." "I didn't know they made bastards as sexy as you." And best of all: "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner right here." He could've turned on a couple more lights, and he's probably drunk, but who wouldn't be? Bonus points for self-deprecating jokes about his crummy photography and pubic hair.

This is the ur-celebrity sex tape, what you might call the Citizen Kane of famous people screwing, which ushered in the form's modern era. There's little you can say about this video that hasn't already been said. So I'll say this: It's sweet. You actually feel badly that the marriage didn't work out. Pam and Tommy were clearly in love during their honeymoon. They make the most of their locations&mdashin front of a mansion, driving in a car, on a yacht, swimming in a lake&mdashas well as the now-nostalgic analog video camera, including an artful zoom into the MAYHEM tattoo on Tommy's stomach. They unironically call each other "lover" and show the appropriate level of bashfulness. There's even suspense when they almost hit a rock (not a euphemism, a literal rock). What you get is what you want from any movie: a journey. Emotional, uh, payoff. There are few moments in cinema as tender and sincere as when Pam says, "He's gotta get me through the rest of my life." Granted, she's talking about Tommy's junk, but that's how true love works, isn't it?


11 Celebrity Sex Tapes, Ranked by Cinematic Value

I've watched a lot of celebrity sex tapes. Dozens of them. Rarely are they titillating&mdashbut more interesting is how much they do or don't offer a glimpse into the private lives of those involved. They leave you wondering: Are they being themselves? Are they acting? Are they acting well? Why did they choose the kitchen? When you're filming your sexual activities, self-presentation is paramount.

After watching a few of these, you can easily spot the frauds, whose construction is manipulated down to the last frame (see: Kim Kardashian, who now has the best-selling sex tape of all time). As in Kardashian's case, a sex tape can skyrocket someone to fame (or at least infamy) on the other hand, a sex tape can ultimately bring ruin to an independent media company (*cough*Hulk Hogan*cough*).

Considering this is pornographic genre of great cultural interest, I've ranked 11 pivotal celebrity sex tapes here from best to worst&mdashas measured purely by their cinematic qualities.

Note: Esquire does not endorse theft or unpermitted distribution of copyrighted material, but these have all been widely circulated, commented upon, and in some cases publicly approved and/or mocked by the participants.

This is one of the earliest and most notorious celebrity sex tapes, having nearly ruined Lowe's career. Watching it is a dull and queasy task. It's filmed from an unlevel tripod in yellowy light (gotta remember that white balance) and filled with white noise and blurry group sex whose indistinctness only leads you to imagine the worst. Alas, the '80s were not as glamorous as previously reported.

No one asked Screech for a sex tape. But Screech felt like unleashing one upon the world, and the result is even more nausea-inducing than one might expect. Diamond films two women from central porn casting, asking them, "Do you want to see the monster?" He later admitted that he used a "stunt wang." Sounds about right.

Durst keeps the camera on the woman (somewhat understandably), not allowing us to take in the wider mise-en-scène and forcing us to identify him by his sleeve tats, before an abrupt mid-video pan to his face in closeup. This is just sloppy filmmaking, especially from a veteran music video director.

There are about as many Paris Hilton sex tapes as entries in the Hunger Games franchise. None of them is pleasant. The most famous, One Night in Paris, is a textbook example of everything you shouldn't do with your home porno. It's introduced by sleaze Rick Salomon himself, who thinks more highly of his skills than he should (his creepy catchphrase: She likes it. ). Hilton, meanwhile, is so bored out of her mind that at one point she stops to answer her phone. There's no fun in watching them debate where to station the camera on a table. (Tip: Handheld is almost always better than stationary photography, especially webcams, which feel distant and clinical.) And the video makes a compelling case for never using the night vision setting to film your own sex, thereby giving it the dreaded Blair Witch/Zero Dark Thirty effect. At one point Salomon, chewing gum and staring at a monitor displaying his own cock, comments, "It looks like we're having a good time." No, it doesn't, Rick. It really doesn't.

It's hard to feel good about Farrah Superstar: Backdoor Teen Mom. She was a former teen mom, now a regular mom craving publicity. He&mdashhe being famed porn star James Deen&mdashhas been accused of rape and sexual assault by multiple women. Abraham claimed the tape was a leak. Turns out she made $1.5 million for selling it to Vivid Entertainment. But, technically speaking, this production could have been worse. It was even good enough to spawn a sequel, Farrah 2: Backdoor and More. So there's that.

Befitting its star, this is just out-and-out weird. Simmons enters to Foreigner's "I Want to Know What Love Is" as a candle flickers in the background. He wears only a t-shirt (never a good look for a guy), and the woman seems game for anything but kissing him. The faraway stationary black-and-white photography works, for once, lending a surreal vibe to the proceedings.

It's rigorously controlled, with annoying soundtrack cues, though that should surprise no one who has followed Kardashian's career. In many ways this is the earliest glimpse into her ability to exploit her own bodily gifts for monolithic public attention. She shows little interest in the sex, but defends the naturalness of her breasts to the camera and insists that Ray J record her "bling" all the way down to her feet. She shows the slightest bit of humanity when Ray J shoots her unpacking, but it's quickly replaced by a smile. Kardashian is a pro.

Hogan's tape appears to be recorded by a security camera like some kind of voyeuristic Steven Soderbergh experiment. You can't see much, but the surprisingly clear audio and subtitles suggest a gentlemanly encounter, ended by Hogan giving the woman a goodnight kiss and telling her, "You're awesome."

It doesn't hold a candle to her magnum opus with Tommy, but Pam as always is a master of the costume. Here she's wearing knee-high boots in a Stevie-Nicks-sex-goddess look. You nearly forget Bret Michaels is in the room.

Farrell lays on the charm thick, which might be annoying if he didn't do it so well. He improvises increasingly inventive compliments for model Nicole Narain in his Irish lilt: "If a fucking camera could blush, this thing would be fucking red." "I didn't know they made bastards as sexy as you." And best of all: "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner right here." He could've turned on a couple more lights, and he's probably drunk, but who wouldn't be? Bonus points for self-deprecating jokes about his crummy photography and pubic hair.

This is the ur-celebrity sex tape, what you might call the Citizen Kane of famous people screwing, which ushered in the form's modern era. There's little you can say about this video that hasn't already been said. So I'll say this: It's sweet. You actually feel badly that the marriage didn't work out. Pam and Tommy were clearly in love during their honeymoon. They make the most of their locations&mdashin front of a mansion, driving in a car, on a yacht, swimming in a lake&mdashas well as the now-nostalgic analog video camera, including an artful zoom into the MAYHEM tattoo on Tommy's stomach. They unironically call each other "lover" and show the appropriate level of bashfulness. There's even suspense when they almost hit a rock (not a euphemism, a literal rock). What you get is what you want from any movie: a journey. Emotional, uh, payoff. There are few moments in cinema as tender and sincere as when Pam says, "He's gotta get me through the rest of my life." Granted, she's talking about Tommy's junk, but that's how true love works, isn't it?


11 Celebrity Sex Tapes, Ranked by Cinematic Value

I've watched a lot of celebrity sex tapes. Dozens of them. Rarely are they titillating&mdashbut more interesting is how much they do or don't offer a glimpse into the private lives of those involved. They leave you wondering: Are they being themselves? Are they acting? Are they acting well? Why did they choose the kitchen? When you're filming your sexual activities, self-presentation is paramount.

After watching a few of these, you can easily spot the frauds, whose construction is manipulated down to the last frame (see: Kim Kardashian, who now has the best-selling sex tape of all time). As in Kardashian's case, a sex tape can skyrocket someone to fame (or at least infamy) on the other hand, a sex tape can ultimately bring ruin to an independent media company (*cough*Hulk Hogan*cough*).

Considering this is pornographic genre of great cultural interest, I've ranked 11 pivotal celebrity sex tapes here from best to worst&mdashas measured purely by their cinematic qualities.

Note: Esquire does not endorse theft or unpermitted distribution of copyrighted material, but these have all been widely circulated, commented upon, and in some cases publicly approved and/or mocked by the participants.

This is one of the earliest and most notorious celebrity sex tapes, having nearly ruined Lowe's career. Watching it is a dull and queasy task. It's filmed from an unlevel tripod in yellowy light (gotta remember that white balance) and filled with white noise and blurry group sex whose indistinctness only leads you to imagine the worst. Alas, the '80s were not as glamorous as previously reported.

No one asked Screech for a sex tape. But Screech felt like unleashing one upon the world, and the result is even more nausea-inducing than one might expect. Diamond films two women from central porn casting, asking them, "Do you want to see the monster?" He later admitted that he used a "stunt wang." Sounds about right.

Durst keeps the camera on the woman (somewhat understandably), not allowing us to take in the wider mise-en-scène and forcing us to identify him by his sleeve tats, before an abrupt mid-video pan to his face in closeup. This is just sloppy filmmaking, especially from a veteran music video director.

There are about as many Paris Hilton sex tapes as entries in the Hunger Games franchise. None of them is pleasant. The most famous, One Night in Paris, is a textbook example of everything you shouldn't do with your home porno. It's introduced by sleaze Rick Salomon himself, who thinks more highly of his skills than he should (his creepy catchphrase: She likes it. ). Hilton, meanwhile, is so bored out of her mind that at one point she stops to answer her phone. There's no fun in watching them debate where to station the camera on a table. (Tip: Handheld is almost always better than stationary photography, especially webcams, which feel distant and clinical.) And the video makes a compelling case for never using the night vision setting to film your own sex, thereby giving it the dreaded Blair Witch/Zero Dark Thirty effect. At one point Salomon, chewing gum and staring at a monitor displaying his own cock, comments, "It looks like we're having a good time." No, it doesn't, Rick. It really doesn't.

It's hard to feel good about Farrah Superstar: Backdoor Teen Mom. She was a former teen mom, now a regular mom craving publicity. He&mdashhe being famed porn star James Deen&mdashhas been accused of rape and sexual assault by multiple women. Abraham claimed the tape was a leak. Turns out she made $1.5 million for selling it to Vivid Entertainment. But, technically speaking, this production could have been worse. It was even good enough to spawn a sequel, Farrah 2: Backdoor and More. So there's that.

Befitting its star, this is just out-and-out weird. Simmons enters to Foreigner's "I Want to Know What Love Is" as a candle flickers in the background. He wears only a t-shirt (never a good look for a guy), and the woman seems game for anything but kissing him. The faraway stationary black-and-white photography works, for once, lending a surreal vibe to the proceedings.

It's rigorously controlled, with annoying soundtrack cues, though that should surprise no one who has followed Kardashian's career. In many ways this is the earliest glimpse into her ability to exploit her own bodily gifts for monolithic public attention. She shows little interest in the sex, but defends the naturalness of her breasts to the camera and insists that Ray J record her "bling" all the way down to her feet. She shows the slightest bit of humanity when Ray J shoots her unpacking, but it's quickly replaced by a smile. Kardashian is a pro.

Hogan's tape appears to be recorded by a security camera like some kind of voyeuristic Steven Soderbergh experiment. You can't see much, but the surprisingly clear audio and subtitles suggest a gentlemanly encounter, ended by Hogan giving the woman a goodnight kiss and telling her, "You're awesome."

It doesn't hold a candle to her magnum opus with Tommy, but Pam as always is a master of the costume. Here she's wearing knee-high boots in a Stevie-Nicks-sex-goddess look. You nearly forget Bret Michaels is in the room.

Farrell lays on the charm thick, which might be annoying if he didn't do it so well. He improvises increasingly inventive compliments for model Nicole Narain in his Irish lilt: "If a fucking camera could blush, this thing would be fucking red." "I didn't know they made bastards as sexy as you." And best of all: "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner right here." He could've turned on a couple more lights, and he's probably drunk, but who wouldn't be? Bonus points for self-deprecating jokes about his crummy photography and pubic hair.

This is the ur-celebrity sex tape, what you might call the Citizen Kane of famous people screwing, which ushered in the form's modern era. There's little you can say about this video that hasn't already been said. So I'll say this: It's sweet. You actually feel badly that the marriage didn't work out. Pam and Tommy were clearly in love during their honeymoon. They make the most of their locations&mdashin front of a mansion, driving in a car, on a yacht, swimming in a lake&mdashas well as the now-nostalgic analog video camera, including an artful zoom into the MAYHEM tattoo on Tommy's stomach. They unironically call each other "lover" and show the appropriate level of bashfulness. There's even suspense when they almost hit a rock (not a euphemism, a literal rock). What you get is what you want from any movie: a journey. Emotional, uh, payoff. There are few moments in cinema as tender and sincere as when Pam says, "He's gotta get me through the rest of my life." Granted, she's talking about Tommy's junk, but that's how true love works, isn't it?


11 Celebrity Sex Tapes, Ranked by Cinematic Value

I've watched a lot of celebrity sex tapes. Dozens of them. Rarely are they titillating&mdashbut more interesting is how much they do or don't offer a glimpse into the private lives of those involved. They leave you wondering: Are they being themselves? Are they acting? Are they acting well? Why did they choose the kitchen? When you're filming your sexual activities, self-presentation is paramount.

After watching a few of these, you can easily spot the frauds, whose construction is manipulated down to the last frame (see: Kim Kardashian, who now has the best-selling sex tape of all time). As in Kardashian's case, a sex tape can skyrocket someone to fame (or at least infamy) on the other hand, a sex tape can ultimately bring ruin to an independent media company (*cough*Hulk Hogan*cough*).

Considering this is pornographic genre of great cultural interest, I've ranked 11 pivotal celebrity sex tapes here from best to worst&mdashas measured purely by their cinematic qualities.

Note: Esquire does not endorse theft or unpermitted distribution of copyrighted material, but these have all been widely circulated, commented upon, and in some cases publicly approved and/or mocked by the participants.

This is one of the earliest and most notorious celebrity sex tapes, having nearly ruined Lowe's career. Watching it is a dull and queasy task. It's filmed from an unlevel tripod in yellowy light (gotta remember that white balance) and filled with white noise and blurry group sex whose indistinctness only leads you to imagine the worst. Alas, the '80s were not as glamorous as previously reported.

No one asked Screech for a sex tape. But Screech felt like unleashing one upon the world, and the result is even more nausea-inducing than one might expect. Diamond films two women from central porn casting, asking them, "Do you want to see the monster?" He later admitted that he used a "stunt wang." Sounds about right.

Durst keeps the camera on the woman (somewhat understandably), not allowing us to take in the wider mise-en-scène and forcing us to identify him by his sleeve tats, before an abrupt mid-video pan to his face in closeup. This is just sloppy filmmaking, especially from a veteran music video director.

There are about as many Paris Hilton sex tapes as entries in the Hunger Games franchise. None of them is pleasant. The most famous, One Night in Paris, is a textbook example of everything you shouldn't do with your home porno. It's introduced by sleaze Rick Salomon himself, who thinks more highly of his skills than he should (his creepy catchphrase: She likes it. ). Hilton, meanwhile, is so bored out of her mind that at one point she stops to answer her phone. There's no fun in watching them debate where to station the camera on a table. (Tip: Handheld is almost always better than stationary photography, especially webcams, which feel distant and clinical.) And the video makes a compelling case for never using the night vision setting to film your own sex, thereby giving it the dreaded Blair Witch/Zero Dark Thirty effect. At one point Salomon, chewing gum and staring at a monitor displaying his own cock, comments, "It looks like we're having a good time." No, it doesn't, Rick. It really doesn't.

It's hard to feel good about Farrah Superstar: Backdoor Teen Mom. She was a former teen mom, now a regular mom craving publicity. He&mdashhe being famed porn star James Deen&mdashhas been accused of rape and sexual assault by multiple women. Abraham claimed the tape was a leak. Turns out she made $1.5 million for selling it to Vivid Entertainment. But, technically speaking, this production could have been worse. It was even good enough to spawn a sequel, Farrah 2: Backdoor and More. So there's that.

Befitting its star, this is just out-and-out weird. Simmons enters to Foreigner's "I Want to Know What Love Is" as a candle flickers in the background. He wears only a t-shirt (never a good look for a guy), and the woman seems game for anything but kissing him. The faraway stationary black-and-white photography works, for once, lending a surreal vibe to the proceedings.

It's rigorously controlled, with annoying soundtrack cues, though that should surprise no one who has followed Kardashian's career. In many ways this is the earliest glimpse into her ability to exploit her own bodily gifts for monolithic public attention. She shows little interest in the sex, but defends the naturalness of her breasts to the camera and insists that Ray J record her "bling" all the way down to her feet. She shows the slightest bit of humanity when Ray J shoots her unpacking, but it's quickly replaced by a smile. Kardashian is a pro.

Hogan's tape appears to be recorded by a security camera like some kind of voyeuristic Steven Soderbergh experiment. You can't see much, but the surprisingly clear audio and subtitles suggest a gentlemanly encounter, ended by Hogan giving the woman a goodnight kiss and telling her, "You're awesome."

It doesn't hold a candle to her magnum opus with Tommy, but Pam as always is a master of the costume. Here she's wearing knee-high boots in a Stevie-Nicks-sex-goddess look. You nearly forget Bret Michaels is in the room.

Farrell lays on the charm thick, which might be annoying if he didn't do it so well. He improvises increasingly inventive compliments for model Nicole Narain in his Irish lilt: "If a fucking camera could blush, this thing would be fucking red." "I didn't know they made bastards as sexy as you." And best of all: "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner right here." He could've turned on a couple more lights, and he's probably drunk, but who wouldn't be? Bonus points for self-deprecating jokes about his crummy photography and pubic hair.

This is the ur-celebrity sex tape, what you might call the Citizen Kane of famous people screwing, which ushered in the form's modern era. There's little you can say about this video that hasn't already been said. So I'll say this: It's sweet. You actually feel badly that the marriage didn't work out. Pam and Tommy were clearly in love during their honeymoon. They make the most of their locations&mdashin front of a mansion, driving in a car, on a yacht, swimming in a lake&mdashas well as the now-nostalgic analog video camera, including an artful zoom into the MAYHEM tattoo on Tommy's stomach. They unironically call each other "lover" and show the appropriate level of bashfulness. There's even suspense when they almost hit a rock (not a euphemism, a literal rock). What you get is what you want from any movie: a journey. Emotional, uh, payoff. There are few moments in cinema as tender and sincere as when Pam says, "He's gotta get me through the rest of my life." Granted, she's talking about Tommy's junk, but that's how true love works, isn't it?


11 Celebrity Sex Tapes, Ranked by Cinematic Value

I've watched a lot of celebrity sex tapes. Dozens of them. Rarely are they titillating&mdashbut more interesting is how much they do or don't offer a glimpse into the private lives of those involved. They leave you wondering: Are they being themselves? Are they acting? Are they acting well? Why did they choose the kitchen? When you're filming your sexual activities, self-presentation is paramount.

After watching a few of these, you can easily spot the frauds, whose construction is manipulated down to the last frame (see: Kim Kardashian, who now has the best-selling sex tape of all time). As in Kardashian's case, a sex tape can skyrocket someone to fame (or at least infamy) on the other hand, a sex tape can ultimately bring ruin to an independent media company (*cough*Hulk Hogan*cough*).

Considering this is pornographic genre of great cultural interest, I've ranked 11 pivotal celebrity sex tapes here from best to worst&mdashas measured purely by their cinematic qualities.

Note: Esquire does not endorse theft or unpermitted distribution of copyrighted material, but these have all been widely circulated, commented upon, and in some cases publicly approved and/or mocked by the participants.

This is one of the earliest and most notorious celebrity sex tapes, having nearly ruined Lowe's career. Watching it is a dull and queasy task. It's filmed from an unlevel tripod in yellowy light (gotta remember that white balance) and filled with white noise and blurry group sex whose indistinctness only leads you to imagine the worst. Alas, the '80s were not as glamorous as previously reported.

No one asked Screech for a sex tape. But Screech felt like unleashing one upon the world, and the result is even more nausea-inducing than one might expect. Diamond films two women from central porn casting, asking them, "Do you want to see the monster?" He later admitted that he used a "stunt wang." Sounds about right.

Durst keeps the camera on the woman (somewhat understandably), not allowing us to take in the wider mise-en-scène and forcing us to identify him by his sleeve tats, before an abrupt mid-video pan to his face in closeup. This is just sloppy filmmaking, especially from a veteran music video director.

There are about as many Paris Hilton sex tapes as entries in the Hunger Games franchise. None of them is pleasant. The most famous, One Night in Paris, is a textbook example of everything you shouldn't do with your home porno. It's introduced by sleaze Rick Salomon himself, who thinks more highly of his skills than he should (his creepy catchphrase: She likes it. ). Hilton, meanwhile, is so bored out of her mind that at one point she stops to answer her phone. There's no fun in watching them debate where to station the camera on a table. (Tip: Handheld is almost always better than stationary photography, especially webcams, which feel distant and clinical.) And the video makes a compelling case for never using the night vision setting to film your own sex, thereby giving it the dreaded Blair Witch/Zero Dark Thirty effect. At one point Salomon, chewing gum and staring at a monitor displaying his own cock, comments, "It looks like we're having a good time." No, it doesn't, Rick. It really doesn't.

It's hard to feel good about Farrah Superstar: Backdoor Teen Mom. She was a former teen mom, now a regular mom craving publicity. He&mdashhe being famed porn star James Deen&mdashhas been accused of rape and sexual assault by multiple women. Abraham claimed the tape was a leak. Turns out she made $1.5 million for selling it to Vivid Entertainment. But, technically speaking, this production could have been worse. It was even good enough to spawn a sequel, Farrah 2: Backdoor and More. So there's that.

Befitting its star, this is just out-and-out weird. Simmons enters to Foreigner's "I Want to Know What Love Is" as a candle flickers in the background. He wears only a t-shirt (never a good look for a guy), and the woman seems game for anything but kissing him. The faraway stationary black-and-white photography works, for once, lending a surreal vibe to the proceedings.

It's rigorously controlled, with annoying soundtrack cues, though that should surprise no one who has followed Kardashian's career. In many ways this is the earliest glimpse into her ability to exploit her own bodily gifts for monolithic public attention. She shows little interest in the sex, but defends the naturalness of her breasts to the camera and insists that Ray J record her "bling" all the way down to her feet. She shows the slightest bit of humanity when Ray J shoots her unpacking, but it's quickly replaced by a smile. Kardashian is a pro.

Hogan's tape appears to be recorded by a security camera like some kind of voyeuristic Steven Soderbergh experiment. You can't see much, but the surprisingly clear audio and subtitles suggest a gentlemanly encounter, ended by Hogan giving the woman a goodnight kiss and telling her, "You're awesome."

It doesn't hold a candle to her magnum opus with Tommy, but Pam as always is a master of the costume. Here she's wearing knee-high boots in a Stevie-Nicks-sex-goddess look. You nearly forget Bret Michaels is in the room.

Farrell lays on the charm thick, which might be annoying if he didn't do it so well. He improvises increasingly inventive compliments for model Nicole Narain in his Irish lilt: "If a fucking camera could blush, this thing would be fucking red." "I didn't know they made bastards as sexy as you." And best of all: "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner right here." He could've turned on a couple more lights, and he's probably drunk, but who wouldn't be? Bonus points for self-deprecating jokes about his crummy photography and pubic hair.

This is the ur-celebrity sex tape, what you might call the Citizen Kane of famous people screwing, which ushered in the form's modern era. There's little you can say about this video that hasn't already been said. So I'll say this: It's sweet. You actually feel badly that the marriage didn't work out. Pam and Tommy were clearly in love during their honeymoon. They make the most of their locations&mdashin front of a mansion, driving in a car, on a yacht, swimming in a lake&mdashas well as the now-nostalgic analog video camera, including an artful zoom into the MAYHEM tattoo on Tommy's stomach. They unironically call each other "lover" and show the appropriate level of bashfulness. There's even suspense when they almost hit a rock (not a euphemism, a literal rock). What you get is what you want from any movie: a journey. Emotional, uh, payoff. There are few moments in cinema as tender and sincere as when Pam says, "He's gotta get me through the rest of my life." Granted, she's talking about Tommy's junk, but that's how true love works, isn't it?


11 Celebrity Sex Tapes, Ranked by Cinematic Value

I've watched a lot of celebrity sex tapes. Dozens of them. Rarely are they titillating&mdashbut more interesting is how much they do or don't offer a glimpse into the private lives of those involved. They leave you wondering: Are they being themselves? Are they acting? Are they acting well? Why did they choose the kitchen? When you're filming your sexual activities, self-presentation is paramount.

After watching a few of these, you can easily spot the frauds, whose construction is manipulated down to the last frame (see: Kim Kardashian, who now has the best-selling sex tape of all time). As in Kardashian's case, a sex tape can skyrocket someone to fame (or at least infamy) on the other hand, a sex tape can ultimately bring ruin to an independent media company (*cough*Hulk Hogan*cough*).

Considering this is pornographic genre of great cultural interest, I've ranked 11 pivotal celebrity sex tapes here from best to worst&mdashas measured purely by their cinematic qualities.

Note: Esquire does not endorse theft or unpermitted distribution of copyrighted material, but these have all been widely circulated, commented upon, and in some cases publicly approved and/or mocked by the participants.

This is one of the earliest and most notorious celebrity sex tapes, having nearly ruined Lowe's career. Watching it is a dull and queasy task. It's filmed from an unlevel tripod in yellowy light (gotta remember that white balance) and filled with white noise and blurry group sex whose indistinctness only leads you to imagine the worst. Alas, the '80s were not as glamorous as previously reported.

No one asked Screech for a sex tape. But Screech felt like unleashing one upon the world, and the result is even more nausea-inducing than one might expect. Diamond films two women from central porn casting, asking them, "Do you want to see the monster?" He later admitted that he used a "stunt wang." Sounds about right.

Durst keeps the camera on the woman (somewhat understandably), not allowing us to take in the wider mise-en-scène and forcing us to identify him by his sleeve tats, before an abrupt mid-video pan to his face in closeup. This is just sloppy filmmaking, especially from a veteran music video director.

There are about as many Paris Hilton sex tapes as entries in the Hunger Games franchise. None of them is pleasant. The most famous, One Night in Paris, is a textbook example of everything you shouldn't do with your home porno. It's introduced by sleaze Rick Salomon himself, who thinks more highly of his skills than he should (his creepy catchphrase: She likes it. ). Hilton, meanwhile, is so bored out of her mind that at one point she stops to answer her phone. There's no fun in watching them debate where to station the camera on a table. (Tip: Handheld is almost always better than stationary photography, especially webcams, which feel distant and clinical.) And the video makes a compelling case for never using the night vision setting to film your own sex, thereby giving it the dreaded Blair Witch/Zero Dark Thirty effect. At one point Salomon, chewing gum and staring at a monitor displaying his own cock, comments, "It looks like we're having a good time." No, it doesn't, Rick. It really doesn't.

It's hard to feel good about Farrah Superstar: Backdoor Teen Mom. She was a former teen mom, now a regular mom craving publicity. He&mdashhe being famed porn star James Deen&mdashhas been accused of rape and sexual assault by multiple women. Abraham claimed the tape was a leak. Turns out she made $1.5 million for selling it to Vivid Entertainment. But, technically speaking, this production could have been worse. It was even good enough to spawn a sequel, Farrah 2: Backdoor and More. So there's that.

Befitting its star, this is just out-and-out weird. Simmons enters to Foreigner's "I Want to Know What Love Is" as a candle flickers in the background. He wears only a t-shirt (never a good look for a guy), and the woman seems game for anything but kissing him. The faraway stationary black-and-white photography works, for once, lending a surreal vibe to the proceedings.

It's rigorously controlled, with annoying soundtrack cues, though that should surprise no one who has followed Kardashian's career. In many ways this is the earliest glimpse into her ability to exploit her own bodily gifts for monolithic public attention. She shows little interest in the sex, but defends the naturalness of her breasts to the camera and insists that Ray J record her "bling" all the way down to her feet. She shows the slightest bit of humanity when Ray J shoots her unpacking, but it's quickly replaced by a smile. Kardashian is a pro.

Hogan's tape appears to be recorded by a security camera like some kind of voyeuristic Steven Soderbergh experiment. You can't see much, but the surprisingly clear audio and subtitles suggest a gentlemanly encounter, ended by Hogan giving the woman a goodnight kiss and telling her, "You're awesome."

It doesn't hold a candle to her magnum opus with Tommy, but Pam as always is a master of the costume. Here she's wearing knee-high boots in a Stevie-Nicks-sex-goddess look. You nearly forget Bret Michaels is in the room.

Farrell lays on the charm thick, which might be annoying if he didn't do it so well. He improvises increasingly inventive compliments for model Nicole Narain in his Irish lilt: "If a fucking camera could blush, this thing would be fucking red." "I didn't know they made bastards as sexy as you." And best of all: "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner right here." He could've turned on a couple more lights, and he's probably drunk, but who wouldn't be? Bonus points for self-deprecating jokes about his crummy photography and pubic hair.

This is the ur-celebrity sex tape, what you might call the Citizen Kane of famous people screwing, which ushered in the form's modern era. There's little you can say about this video that hasn't already been said. So I'll say this: It's sweet. You actually feel badly that the marriage didn't work out. Pam and Tommy were clearly in love during their honeymoon. They make the most of their locations&mdashin front of a mansion, driving in a car, on a yacht, swimming in a lake&mdashas well as the now-nostalgic analog video camera, including an artful zoom into the MAYHEM tattoo on Tommy's stomach. They unironically call each other "lover" and show the appropriate level of bashfulness. There's even suspense when they almost hit a rock (not a euphemism, a literal rock). What you get is what you want from any movie: a journey. Emotional, uh, payoff. There are few moments in cinema as tender and sincere as when Pam says, "He's gotta get me through the rest of my life." Granted, she's talking about Tommy's junk, but that's how true love works, isn't it?


11 Celebrity Sex Tapes, Ranked by Cinematic Value

I've watched a lot of celebrity sex tapes. Dozens of them. Rarely are they titillating&mdashbut more interesting is how much they do or don't offer a glimpse into the private lives of those involved. They leave you wondering: Are they being themselves? Are they acting? Are they acting well? Why did they choose the kitchen? When you're filming your sexual activities, self-presentation is paramount.

After watching a few of these, you can easily spot the frauds, whose construction is manipulated down to the last frame (see: Kim Kardashian, who now has the best-selling sex tape of all time). As in Kardashian's case, a sex tape can skyrocket someone to fame (or at least infamy) on the other hand, a sex tape can ultimately bring ruin to an independent media company (*cough*Hulk Hogan*cough*).

Considering this is pornographic genre of great cultural interest, I've ranked 11 pivotal celebrity sex tapes here from best to worst&mdashas measured purely by their cinematic qualities.

Note: Esquire does not endorse theft or unpermitted distribution of copyrighted material, but these have all been widely circulated, commented upon, and in some cases publicly approved and/or mocked by the participants.

This is one of the earliest and most notorious celebrity sex tapes, having nearly ruined Lowe's career. Watching it is a dull and queasy task. It's filmed from an unlevel tripod in yellowy light (gotta remember that white balance) and filled with white noise and blurry group sex whose indistinctness only leads you to imagine the worst. Alas, the '80s were not as glamorous as previously reported.

No one asked Screech for a sex tape. But Screech felt like unleashing one upon the world, and the result is even more nausea-inducing than one might expect. Diamond films two women from central porn casting, asking them, "Do you want to see the monster?" He later admitted that he used a "stunt wang." Sounds about right.

Durst keeps the camera on the woman (somewhat understandably), not allowing us to take in the wider mise-en-scène and forcing us to identify him by his sleeve tats, before an abrupt mid-video pan to his face in closeup. This is just sloppy filmmaking, especially from a veteran music video director.

There are about as many Paris Hilton sex tapes as entries in the Hunger Games franchise. None of them is pleasant. The most famous, One Night in Paris, is a textbook example of everything you shouldn't do with your home porno. It's introduced by sleaze Rick Salomon himself, who thinks more highly of his skills than he should (his creepy catchphrase: She likes it. ). Hilton, meanwhile, is so bored out of her mind that at one point she stops to answer her phone. There's no fun in watching them debate where to station the camera on a table. (Tip: Handheld is almost always better than stationary photography, especially webcams, which feel distant and clinical.) And the video makes a compelling case for never using the night vision setting to film your own sex, thereby giving it the dreaded Blair Witch/Zero Dark Thirty effect. At one point Salomon, chewing gum and staring at a monitor displaying his own cock, comments, "It looks like we're having a good time." No, it doesn't, Rick. It really doesn't.

It's hard to feel good about Farrah Superstar: Backdoor Teen Mom. She was a former teen mom, now a regular mom craving publicity. He&mdashhe being famed porn star James Deen&mdashhas been accused of rape and sexual assault by multiple women. Abraham claimed the tape was a leak. Turns out she made $1.5 million for selling it to Vivid Entertainment. But, technically speaking, this production could have been worse. It was even good enough to spawn a sequel, Farrah 2: Backdoor and More. So there's that.

Befitting its star, this is just out-and-out weird. Simmons enters to Foreigner's "I Want to Know What Love Is" as a candle flickers in the background. He wears only a t-shirt (never a good look for a guy), and the woman seems game for anything but kissing him. The faraway stationary black-and-white photography works, for once, lending a surreal vibe to the proceedings.

It's rigorously controlled, with annoying soundtrack cues, though that should surprise no one who has followed Kardashian's career. In many ways this is the earliest glimpse into her ability to exploit her own bodily gifts for monolithic public attention. She shows little interest in the sex, but defends the naturalness of her breasts to the camera and insists that Ray J record her "bling" all the way down to her feet. She shows the slightest bit of humanity when Ray J shoots her unpacking, but it's quickly replaced by a smile. Kardashian is a pro.

Hogan's tape appears to be recorded by a security camera like some kind of voyeuristic Steven Soderbergh experiment. You can't see much, but the surprisingly clear audio and subtitles suggest a gentlemanly encounter, ended by Hogan giving the woman a goodnight kiss and telling her, "You're awesome."

It doesn't hold a candle to her magnum opus with Tommy, but Pam as always is a master of the costume. Here she's wearing knee-high boots in a Stevie-Nicks-sex-goddess look. You nearly forget Bret Michaels is in the room.

Farrell lays on the charm thick, which might be annoying if he didn't do it so well. He improvises increasingly inventive compliments for model Nicole Narain in his Irish lilt: "If a fucking camera could blush, this thing would be fucking red." "I didn't know they made bastards as sexy as you." And best of all: "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner right here." He could've turned on a couple more lights, and he's probably drunk, but who wouldn't be? Bonus points for self-deprecating jokes about his crummy photography and pubic hair.

This is the ur-celebrity sex tape, what you might call the Citizen Kane of famous people screwing, which ushered in the form's modern era. There's little you can say about this video that hasn't already been said. So I'll say this: It's sweet. You actually feel badly that the marriage didn't work out. Pam and Tommy were clearly in love during their honeymoon. They make the most of their locations&mdashin front of a mansion, driving in a car, on a yacht, swimming in a lake&mdashas well as the now-nostalgic analog video camera, including an artful zoom into the MAYHEM tattoo on Tommy's stomach. They unironically call each other "lover" and show the appropriate level of bashfulness. There's even suspense when they almost hit a rock (not a euphemism, a literal rock). What you get is what you want from any movie: a journey. Emotional, uh, payoff. There are few moments in cinema as tender and sincere as when Pam says, "He's gotta get me through the rest of my life." Granted, she's talking about Tommy's junk, but that's how true love works, isn't it?


11 Celebrity Sex Tapes, Ranked by Cinematic Value

I've watched a lot of celebrity sex tapes. Dozens of them. Rarely are they titillating&mdashbut more interesting is how much they do or don't offer a glimpse into the private lives of those involved. They leave you wondering: Are they being themselves? Are they acting? Are they acting well? Why did they choose the kitchen? When you're filming your sexual activities, self-presentation is paramount.

After watching a few of these, you can easily spot the frauds, whose construction is manipulated down to the last frame (see: Kim Kardashian, who now has the best-selling sex tape of all time). As in Kardashian's case, a sex tape can skyrocket someone to fame (or at least infamy) on the other hand, a sex tape can ultimately bring ruin to an independent media company (*cough*Hulk Hogan*cough*).

Considering this is pornographic genre of great cultural interest, I've ranked 11 pivotal celebrity sex tapes here from best to worst&mdashas measured purely by their cinematic qualities.

Note: Esquire does not endorse theft or unpermitted distribution of copyrighted material, but these have all been widely circulated, commented upon, and in some cases publicly approved and/or mocked by the participants.

This is one of the earliest and most notorious celebrity sex tapes, having nearly ruined Lowe's career. Watching it is a dull and queasy task. It's filmed from an unlevel tripod in yellowy light (gotta remember that white balance) and filled with white noise and blurry group sex whose indistinctness only leads you to imagine the worst. Alas, the '80s were not as glamorous as previously reported.

No one asked Screech for a sex tape. But Screech felt like unleashing one upon the world, and the result is even more nausea-inducing than one might expect. Diamond films two women from central porn casting, asking them, "Do you want to see the monster?" He later admitted that he used a "stunt wang." Sounds about right.

Durst keeps the camera on the woman (somewhat understandably), not allowing us to take in the wider mise-en-scène and forcing us to identify him by his sleeve tats, before an abrupt mid-video pan to his face in closeup. This is just sloppy filmmaking, especially from a veteran music video director.

There are about as many Paris Hilton sex tapes as entries in the Hunger Games franchise. None of them is pleasant. The most famous, One Night in Paris, is a textbook example of everything you shouldn't do with your home porno. It's introduced by sleaze Rick Salomon himself, who thinks more highly of his skills than he should (his creepy catchphrase: She likes it. ). Hilton, meanwhile, is so bored out of her mind that at one point she stops to answer her phone. There's no fun in watching them debate where to station the camera on a table. (Tip: Handheld is almost always better than stationary photography, especially webcams, which feel distant and clinical.) And the video makes a compelling case for never using the night vision setting to film your own sex, thereby giving it the dreaded Blair Witch/Zero Dark Thirty effect. At one point Salomon, chewing gum and staring at a monitor displaying his own cock, comments, "It looks like we're having a good time." No, it doesn't, Rick. It really doesn't.

It's hard to feel good about Farrah Superstar: Backdoor Teen Mom. She was a former teen mom, now a regular mom craving publicity. He&mdashhe being famed porn star James Deen&mdashhas been accused of rape and sexual assault by multiple women. Abraham claimed the tape was a leak. Turns out she made $1.5 million for selling it to Vivid Entertainment. But, technically speaking, this production could have been worse. It was even good enough to spawn a sequel, Farrah 2: Backdoor and More. So there's that.

Befitting its star, this is just out-and-out weird. Simmons enters to Foreigner's "I Want to Know What Love Is" as a candle flickers in the background. He wears only a t-shirt (never a good look for a guy), and the woman seems game for anything but kissing him. The faraway stationary black-and-white photography works, for once, lending a surreal vibe to the proceedings.

It's rigorously controlled, with annoying soundtrack cues, though that should surprise no one who has followed Kardashian's career. In many ways this is the earliest glimpse into her ability to exploit her own bodily gifts for monolithic public attention. She shows little interest in the sex, but defends the naturalness of her breasts to the camera and insists that Ray J record her "bling" all the way down to her feet. She shows the slightest bit of humanity when Ray J shoots her unpacking, but it's quickly replaced by a smile. Kardashian is a pro.

Hogan's tape appears to be recorded by a security camera like some kind of voyeuristic Steven Soderbergh experiment. You can't see much, but the surprisingly clear audio and subtitles suggest a gentlemanly encounter, ended by Hogan giving the woman a goodnight kiss and telling her, "You're awesome."

It doesn't hold a candle to her magnum opus with Tommy, but Pam as always is a master of the costume. Here she's wearing knee-high boots in a Stevie-Nicks-sex-goddess look. You nearly forget Bret Michaels is in the room.

Farrell lays on the charm thick, which might be annoying if he didn't do it so well. He improvises increasingly inventive compliments for model Nicole Narain in his Irish lilt: "If a fucking camera could blush, this thing would be fucking red." "I didn't know they made bastards as sexy as you." And best of all: "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner right here." He could've turned on a couple more lights, and he's probably drunk, but who wouldn't be? Bonus points for self-deprecating jokes about his crummy photography and pubic hair.

This is the ur-celebrity sex tape, what you might call the Citizen Kane of famous people screwing, which ushered in the form's modern era. There's little you can say about this video that hasn't already been said. So I'll say this: It's sweet. You actually feel badly that the marriage didn't work out. Pam and Tommy were clearly in love during their honeymoon. They make the most of their locations&mdashin front of a mansion, driving in a car, on a yacht, swimming in a lake&mdashas well as the now-nostalgic analog video camera, including an artful zoom into the MAYHEM tattoo on Tommy's stomach. They unironically call each other "lover" and show the appropriate level of bashfulness. There's even suspense when they almost hit a rock (not a euphemism, a literal rock). What you get is what you want from any movie: a journey. Emotional, uh, payoff. There are few moments in cinema as tender and sincere as when Pam says, "He's gotta get me through the rest of my life." Granted, she's talking about Tommy's junk, but that's how true love works, isn't it?


11 Celebrity Sex Tapes, Ranked by Cinematic Value

I've watched a lot of celebrity sex tapes. Dozens of them. Rarely are they titillating&mdashbut more interesting is how much they do or don't offer a glimpse into the private lives of those involved. They leave you wondering: Are they being themselves? Are they acting? Are they acting well? Why did they choose the kitchen? When you're filming your sexual activities, self-presentation is paramount.

After watching a few of these, you can easily spot the frauds, whose construction is manipulated down to the last frame (see: Kim Kardashian, who now has the best-selling sex tape of all time). As in Kardashian's case, a sex tape can skyrocket someone to fame (or at least infamy) on the other hand, a sex tape can ultimately bring ruin to an independent media company (*cough*Hulk Hogan*cough*).

Considering this is pornographic genre of great cultural interest, I've ranked 11 pivotal celebrity sex tapes here from best to worst&mdashas measured purely by their cinematic qualities.

Note: Esquire does not endorse theft or unpermitted distribution of copyrighted material, but these have all been widely circulated, commented upon, and in some cases publicly approved and/or mocked by the participants.

This is one of the earliest and most notorious celebrity sex tapes, having nearly ruined Lowe's career. Watching it is a dull and queasy task. It's filmed from an unlevel tripod in yellowy light (gotta remember that white balance) and filled with white noise and blurry group sex whose indistinctness only leads you to imagine the worst. Alas, the '80s were not as glamorous as previously reported.

No one asked Screech for a sex tape. But Screech felt like unleashing one upon the world, and the result is even more nausea-inducing than one might expect. Diamond films two women from central porn casting, asking them, "Do you want to see the monster?" He later admitted that he used a "stunt wang." Sounds about right.

Durst keeps the camera on the woman (somewhat understandably), not allowing us to take in the wider mise-en-scène and forcing us to identify him by his sleeve tats, before an abrupt mid-video pan to his face in closeup. This is just sloppy filmmaking, especially from a veteran music video director.

There are about as many Paris Hilton sex tapes as entries in the Hunger Games franchise. None of them is pleasant. The most famous, One Night in Paris, is a textbook example of everything you shouldn't do with your home porno. It's introduced by sleaze Rick Salomon himself, who thinks more highly of his skills than he should (his creepy catchphrase: She likes it. ). Hilton, meanwhile, is so bored out of her mind that at one point she stops to answer her phone. There's no fun in watching them debate where to station the camera on a table. (Tip: Handheld is almost always better than stationary photography, especially webcams, which feel distant and clinical.) And the video makes a compelling case for never using the night vision setting to film your own sex, thereby giving it the dreaded Blair Witch/Zero Dark Thirty effect. At one point Salomon, chewing gum and staring at a monitor displaying his own cock, comments, "It looks like we're having a good time." No, it doesn't, Rick. It really doesn't.

It's hard to feel good about Farrah Superstar: Backdoor Teen Mom. She was a former teen mom, now a regular mom craving publicity. He&mdashhe being famed porn star James Deen&mdashhas been accused of rape and sexual assault by multiple women. Abraham claimed the tape was a leak. Turns out she made $1.5 million for selling it to Vivid Entertainment. But, technically speaking, this production could have been worse. It was even good enough to spawn a sequel, Farrah 2: Backdoor and More. So there's that.

Befitting its star, this is just out-and-out weird. Simmons enters to Foreigner's "I Want to Know What Love Is" as a candle flickers in the background. He wears only a t-shirt (never a good look for a guy), and the woman seems game for anything but kissing him. The faraway stationary black-and-white photography works, for once, lending a surreal vibe to the proceedings.

It's rigorously controlled, with annoying soundtrack cues, though that should surprise no one who has followed Kardashian's career. In many ways this is the earliest glimpse into her ability to exploit her own bodily gifts for monolithic public attention. She shows little interest in the sex, but defends the naturalness of her breasts to the camera and insists that Ray J record her "bling" all the way down to her feet. She shows the slightest bit of humanity when Ray J shoots her unpacking, but it's quickly replaced by a smile. Kardashian is a pro.

Hogan's tape appears to be recorded by a security camera like some kind of voyeuristic Steven Soderbergh experiment. You can't see much, but the surprisingly clear audio and subtitles suggest a gentlemanly encounter, ended by Hogan giving the woman a goodnight kiss and telling her, "You're awesome."

It doesn't hold a candle to her magnum opus with Tommy, but Pam as always is a master of the costume. Here she's wearing knee-high boots in a Stevie-Nicks-sex-goddess look. You nearly forget Bret Michaels is in the room.

Farrell lays on the charm thick, which might be annoying if he didn't do it so well. He improvises increasingly inventive compliments for model Nicole Narain in his Irish lilt: "If a fucking camera could blush, this thing would be fucking red." "I didn't know they made bastards as sexy as you." And best of all: "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner right here." He could've turned on a couple more lights, and he's probably drunk, but who wouldn't be? Bonus points for self-deprecating jokes about his crummy photography and pubic hair.

This is the ur-celebrity sex tape, what you might call the Citizen Kane of famous people screwing, which ushered in the form's modern era. There's little you can say about this video that hasn't already been said. So I'll say this: It's sweet. You actually feel badly that the marriage didn't work out. Pam and Tommy were clearly in love during their honeymoon. They make the most of their locations&mdashin front of a mansion, driving in a car, on a yacht, swimming in a lake&mdashas well as the now-nostalgic analog video camera, including an artful zoom into the MAYHEM tattoo on Tommy's stomach. They unironically call each other "lover" and show the appropriate level of bashfulness. There's even suspense when they almost hit a rock (not a euphemism, a literal rock). What you get is what you want from any movie: a journey. Emotional, uh, payoff. There are few moments in cinema as tender and sincere as when Pam says, "He's gotta get me through the rest of my life." Granted, she's talking about Tommy's junk, but that's how true love works, isn't it?


11 Celebrity Sex Tapes, Ranked by Cinematic Value

I've watched a lot of celebrity sex tapes. Dozens of them. Rarely are they titillating&mdashbut more interesting is how much they do or don't offer a glimpse into the private lives of those involved. They leave you wondering: Are they being themselves? Are they acting? Are they acting well? Why did they choose the kitchen? When you're filming your sexual activities, self-presentation is paramount.

After watching a few of these, you can easily spot the frauds, whose construction is manipulated down to the last frame (see: Kim Kardashian, who now has the best-selling sex tape of all time). As in Kardashian's case, a sex tape can skyrocket someone to fame (or at least infamy) on the other hand, a sex tape can ultimately bring ruin to an independent media company (*cough*Hulk Hogan*cough*).

Considering this is pornographic genre of great cultural interest, I've ranked 11 pivotal celebrity sex tapes here from best to worst&mdashas measured purely by their cinematic qualities.

Note: Esquire does not endorse theft or unpermitted distribution of copyrighted material, but these have all been widely circulated, commented upon, and in some cases publicly approved and/or mocked by the participants.

This is one of the earliest and most notorious celebrity sex tapes, having nearly ruined Lowe's career. Watching it is a dull and queasy task. It's filmed from an unlevel tripod in yellowy light (gotta remember that white balance) and filled with white noise and blurry group sex whose indistinctness only leads you to imagine the worst. Alas, the '80s were not as glamorous as previously reported.

No one asked Screech for a sex tape. But Screech felt like unleashing one upon the world, and the result is even more nausea-inducing than one might expect. Diamond films two women from central porn casting, asking them, "Do you want to see the monster?" He later admitted that he used a "stunt wang." Sounds about right.

Durst keeps the camera on the woman (somewhat understandably), not allowing us to take in the wider mise-en-scène and forcing us to identify him by his sleeve tats, before an abrupt mid-video pan to his face in closeup. This is just sloppy filmmaking, especially from a veteran music video director.

There are about as many Paris Hilton sex tapes as entries in the Hunger Games franchise. None of them is pleasant. The most famous, One Night in Paris, is a textbook example of everything you shouldn't do with your home porno. It's introduced by sleaze Rick Salomon himself, who thinks more highly of his skills than he should (his creepy catchphrase: She likes it. ). Hilton, meanwhile, is so bored out of her mind that at one point she stops to answer her phone. There's no fun in watching them debate where to station the camera on a table. (Tip: Handheld is almost always better than stationary photography, especially webcams, which feel distant and clinical.) And the video makes a compelling case for never using the night vision setting to film your own sex, thereby giving it the dreaded Blair Witch/Zero Dark Thirty effect. At one point Salomon, chewing gum and staring at a monitor displaying his own cock, comments, "It looks like we're having a good time." No, it doesn't, Rick. It really doesn't.

It's hard to feel good about Farrah Superstar: Backdoor Teen Mom. She was a former teen mom, now a regular mom craving publicity. He&mdashhe being famed porn star James Deen&mdashhas been accused of rape and sexual assault by multiple women. Abraham claimed the tape was a leak. Turns out she made $1.5 million for selling it to Vivid Entertainment. But, technically speaking, this production could have been worse. It was even good enough to spawn a sequel, Farrah 2: Backdoor and More. So there's that.

Befitting its star, this is just out-and-out weird. Simmons enters to Foreigner's "I Want to Know What Love Is" as a candle flickers in the background. He wears only a t-shirt (never a good look for a guy), and the woman seems game for anything but kissing him. The faraway stationary black-and-white photography works, for once, lending a surreal vibe to the proceedings.

It's rigorously controlled, with annoying soundtrack cues, though that should surprise no one who has followed Kardashian's career. In many ways this is the earliest glimpse into her ability to exploit her own bodily gifts for monolithic public attention. She shows little interest in the sex, but defends the naturalness of her breasts to the camera and insists that Ray J record her "bling" all the way down to her feet. She shows the slightest bit of humanity when Ray J shoots her unpacking, but it's quickly replaced by a smile. Kardashian is a pro.

Hogan's tape appears to be recorded by a security camera like some kind of voyeuristic Steven Soderbergh experiment. You can't see much, but the surprisingly clear audio and subtitles suggest a gentlemanly encounter, ended by Hogan giving the woman a goodnight kiss and telling her, "You're awesome."

It doesn't hold a candle to her magnum opus with Tommy, but Pam as always is a master of the costume. Here she's wearing knee-high boots in a Stevie-Nicks-sex-goddess look. You nearly forget Bret Michaels is in the room.

Farrell lays on the charm thick, which might be annoying if he didn't do it so well. He improvises increasingly inventive compliments for model Nicole Narain in his Irish lilt: "If a fucking camera could blush, this thing would be fucking red." "I didn't know they made bastards as sexy as you." And best of all: "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner right here." He could've turned on a couple more lights, and he's probably drunk, but who wouldn't be? Bonus points for self-deprecating jokes about his crummy photography and pubic hair.

This is the ur-celebrity sex tape, what you might call the Citizen Kane of famous people screwing, which ushered in the form's modern era. There's little you can say about this video that hasn't already been said. So I'll say this: It's sweet. You actually feel badly that the marriage didn't work out. Pam and Tommy were clearly in love during their honeymoon. They make the most of their locations&mdashin front of a mansion, driving in a car, on a yacht, swimming in a lake&mdashas well as the now-nostalgic analog video camera, including an artful zoom into the MAYHEM tattoo on Tommy's stomach. They unironically call each other "lover" and show the appropriate level of bashfulness. There's even suspense when they almost hit a rock (not a euphemism, a literal rock). What you get is what you want from any movie: a journey. Emotional, uh, payoff. There are few moments in cinema as tender and sincere as when Pam says, "He's gotta get me through the rest of my life." Granted, she's talking about Tommy's junk, but that's how true love works, isn't it?


Watch the video: Inside Nicole Scherzingers LA House with a Cozy Home Theater. Open Door. Architectural Digest