Heidi Fleiss: Hollywood Madam

I felt so trashy while watching Heidi Fleiss: Hollywood Madame, yet it was so engrossing I just couldn't help continuing on. It's an expose of a woman who ran a high class prostitution ring in LA in the early 90s. Nick Broomfield interviews his subjects (call girls, the director of Starsky & Hutch, an elderly madame who looks and acts exactly like the Egg Lady in Pink Flamginos, a gruff voice on the phone belonging to "Cookie" the bodyguard, and eventually Heidi herself) again and again, eventually trapping them all in a web of lies. It's impossible to figure out who is telling the truth, if the people involved are just having a chuckle at Broomfield's expense, or if they're all so wigged out on coke that they legitimately have no idea what is going on.

In exchange for interviews, Broomfield actually hands his subjects huge wads of cash on camera, so at first he seems like the sucker (or, oddly, like he's applying the prostitute/john relationship to the structure of his documentary), but really he's buying a career move while they're just making themselves look silly. Overall I think Broomfield had the last laugh by exposing how absolutely ludicrous some of these Hollywood types are.

Broomfield is a shameless sensationalist, but he certainly knows how to bring out the hilarity and surreal nature of otherwise serious subjects.

It's hard not to enjoy Heidi Fleiss, a work clearly superior to rote television sensationalism. Never fear, sensationalism is present in abundance and obviously drives the movie. Broomfield hops from madam to druggie to porn-star with gleeful excess, intent on shocking and disgusting as much as possible within the confines of broadcast-quality material. However, he tends to show us a little more, material that run of the mill documentarians wouldn't show. We see, for example, LA Chief of Police Daryl Gates accepting a surprisingly large sum of money for his appearance in the film, apparently unconcerned that he's being filmed doing so. Before interviewing a former porn actress about her connections with Heidi, he establishes the fact that she's appearing to get some quick cash to fund her drug habit. Bloomfield's obvious mean-spirited approach to each and every character - with the blatant exception of the fetishized Fleiss - leaves no room for casual viewer identification. Broomfield himself constantly appears to add to the sense that none of these people, including the filmmaker, spends their time doing kind, humane things. The two people suggested as major influences on Fleiss's road to ruin would make an ideal harpie and Cyclops. Elderly Madam Alex, who died shortly after her scenes were shot, gossips rampantly for two visits but starts cursing Broomfield out when he refuses to pay for follow-up visits. Possibly not entirely evil Ivan Nagy, writer/director of a number of unimpressive features, does all he can to convince Broomfield's cameraman (when Broomfield's not having any of it) that he's just a good guy and could never have done all the things proven to be true about him. Victoria Sellers - Peter and Britt Ekland's daughter - grants Broomfield an interview right out of rehab, clearly at the end of her rope. Conceptually, this all would be difficult to absorb due to the daunting amount of pain all these people are going for, but Broomfield's nasty spirit finds a way to make it all fun. Always welcome porn star Ron Jeremy appears in a sleazy hotel room.

Those who take a look at this hoping for a wild romp thru a world of sex, drugs, big money, celebrities, and California sun-baked sleaze are in for a little surprise. Yes, there is some of that, but mostly this is a mind-boggling tale of screwy relationships and endless back-stabbing. Heidi Fleiss, the daughter of a liberal doctor and a prostitute turned madame, is at the center of this story. Her prosecution made headlines in the early 1990s, and this movie attempts to understand her and her labyrinthine relationships with sleazy charmers like elderly Madame Alex and second-rate producer-director Ivan Nagy. Broomfield and his crew do a good job of trying to come to grips with this odd, and very L.A., cast of characters, many of whom seem unable to not perform when a camera is turned on them. Interesting secondary characters pop up, like a shadowy underworld character named Cookie; L.A. police chief Darryl Gates, who accepts a nice cash sum before his interview; crooked top detective Mike B. (can't think of his name right now); and porn stars Ron Jeremy and Tisa. At the end, it is still not clear who has done what to whom and why, but you do have some insight into the dark side of the sunny Southland.

This is an odd documentary because, as a previous reviewer said here, you don't want to watch but you do. You're drawn in by director Nick Broomfield's smooth and ever-so-earnest British-style interviewing techniques while forgetting that he's talking to extremely unpleasant and even odious people (including Heidi Fleiss herself).

This Hollywood madam was apparently at the top of the heap in her 'profession,' and it's a tribute to her manipulative skills (I guess) that she was able to do it. She must also be a terrific actor: she looks at times like a wounded little girl, so it's hard to imagine how she was able to reach the 'top,' if that's the word. That's one of the keys to this woman's character, it seems to me: she is such a sleazy opportunist that she seems capable of talking herself into, or out of, anything. If this is true (and the evidence in this film would indicate that), how or why would we believe ANYTHING she says, including her more-or-less 'confessional' at the end? This is a hard-core, professional liar at work.

Fleiss is just one of a cast of people in this film who deliberately and systematically deceive each other, so much so that they have lost touch with what is, or isn't, truth. They no longer know where the line of truth is, and their own glaring self-deception is evident in Broomfield's camera.

You're left quite exhausted by the talking heads, and you realize that the documentary has little redeeming value -- we don't know anything more about who these characters REALLY ARE than when the film started.

In short, everyone is lying here, everyone is driving the viewer down a very convoluted series of rhetorical streets, everyone is playing that famous 'blame game'. What this film needs is some kind of resolution, some denouement. We don't get one, but we still watch. It's interesting to observe ourselves being manipulated by professional liars, and also interesting to see that director Broomfield emerges as a pretty nifty manipulator himself.

Broomfield takes a look at Hollywood decadence, not just the world of porn here. This documentary should be viewed by anyone who still has naive notions about Tinseltown i.e. what really goes on behind the scenes.

Heidi Fleiss is interesting, I suppose, with her boundless naivety (while fancying herself a sly vixen) and greed, but it's really her Hungarian pimp/porn-master/sex-partner and other lesser-known seedy individuals (like the fat old madam who hates both the Hungarian and Fleiss) who catch one's full attention here. These people make Ron Jeremy look utterly dull by comparison (yes, he's in this, too - no surprise there). Even a forgotten Peter Sellers daughter makes one or two appearances, letting us see what happens to some of the offspring that aren't as lucky as David Arquette or Anjelina Jolie. The mad relationships between various inidviduals here almost make for a sort of soap-opera: there is treason, bickering, back-stabbing and all that other stuff. Wonderful.

It's just a pity that the movie was made before Fleiss hooked up with Tom Sizemore. Having him scream into the camera would have been fun.

Not a minute of this film is dull.