Indoors on a Rainy Day – with Roberta Findlay and C.J. Laing

What was it like to work on an adult film set in 1970s New York?

We recently were contacted by a successful director of glossy, high-end commercials, and he talked about starting his career – on the set of Sweet Punkin’ I Love You…. (1976), a film made by Roberta Findlay and Walter Sear, in a scene that featured C.J. Laing, David Christopher, and David Davidson.

These are his memories.

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It was 1975, I was fresh out of NYU, a graduate of its respected film school: I was young, confident, and ready to become the next Martin Scorsese or Brian De Palma.

The only missing element on my resume’ was experience. Practical experience on real film sets. That was all I needed. Well, experience – and expertise too. Those two element were all that differentiated me from the big cheeses of the film business.

Or to put it another way: I hadn’t done anything, I didn’t know how to do anything, and I didn’t know where to go to do anything. But apart from that, I was completely ready for the big jobs that would surely come my way.

So in the fall of 1975, when a friend said that there was an “exciting film production” that needed “someone who could do anything” for a weekend shoot, I told him I was surely the right man for the job.

I was given instructions to show up to a midtown apartment that Saturday. That was strange, I thought: why wouldn’t the shoot be taking place at one of the city’s film studios? I figured that meant it was probably going to be a guerrilla style ‘Mean Streets’ shoot that would break out into the mainstream as a low-budget, innovative revelation.

Saturday came, and it was a melancholy, rainy day, an inauspicious start to my career as an award-winning auteur – but what the hell. I made my way across a deserted city, and arrived at the location sodden but my spirits entirely undimmed.

I walked into the apartment determined to make an impression. “Hey everyone. What is this opus called?” I boomed across the cramped space.

An older man look up and studiously walked over to me. He reached up, took hold of my collar, and pulled me into a fun-size bathroom. We stood over a tiny kermode, and he poked a digit into my face.

“Who the hell are you?” he not-very-politely inquired, tightening his grip on my neck.

“I’m your jack-of-all trades, multi-skilled, film-professional,” I ventured hopefully. “Can you tell me who’s driving the bus here today?”

“I am,” he hissed. “Now get me a coffee.”

Reader, I was new to the film business, and new to this particular group of filmmakers. So, how was I to know this gentleman was Walter Sear, founder of Sear Sound recording studio, famed for its vintage analog recording equipment, and partner of Robert Moog in creating portable synthesizers that could be used during live performances for the first time, as well being as the composer of the Midnight Cowboy soundtrack?

The simple answer is that I had no way of knowing because Walter kept his involvement in his film-making top secret. You see, Walter was keen not to sully his identity as a respectable music guy, and this film work was very much a skeleton in his closet. A naked, horny, X-rated skeleton. A fucking and sucking skeleton, if I can stretch the metaphor. This was a hardcore sex film shoot.

Basically, Walter was funding his music studio expansion by directing adult sex films for the raincoat market. Or rather, he was producing XXX movies: the actual directing was done by Walter’s second big secret – his girlfriend, Roberta Findlay, who he was seeing behind his wife’s back. They made a strange couple: Walter – the officious, unsmiling bearing of a retired military general, and Roberta – a diminutive woman with prodigious breasts and legs like matchsticks. Walter seemed to be in charge until Roberta opened her mouth, and then it was clear that she called the shots. I was sent to arrange the lights around a double bed. I did a great job, even if Roberta cackled with manic laughter and rearranged them completely a few minutes later.

My 1970s sexist alpha-male instincts found the situation bizarre: I was about to assist the making of a record of sexual congress, while being shouted and corrected by a 5 foot tall, scowling black cloud of energy, while being closely observed by Field Marshal Sear.

And then the talent arrived.

Once again, reader, I was new to the film business, and so unprepared for the people who would be fornicating in front of me.

First there was David (Davidson), a flaming exhibitionist, who breezed in with his ‘girlfriend’, Erica (Eaton). “I’ve brought my own wardrobe,” he proudly announced to an audience of no one. “I’m his personal dresser,” whispered Erica to even less interest.

Then another David (Christopher) showed up, a tired, amiable lug, still drowsy from the previous day’s ‘ludes. David’s acting technique was clearly very ‘method’ as evidenced by the immediate removal of his trousers coupled with the way he started kneading his manhood as he lay waiting on the bed.

“Where the fuck is C.J.?” shouted Roberta. “We’re ready to start rolling.”

Forty minutes later, an attractive, an elegant but hung over and exhausted young woman appeared. Tawdry Hepburn, if you will. She winked and smiled at me as she walked in:  C.J. was clearly a woman of culture, class, and distinction.

“I’ve got a mouth is like a camel’s ass in a sandstorm,” she yelled. “Who am I fucking today?”

Walter pointed at the masturbating David on the bed.

“Christ, I can feel my virginity growing back,” C.J. snorted.

“Oh shit. It’s C.J. the B.J. All my orgasms have come at once. The human cheese-grater to my dick,” muttered David.

Five minutes later, C.J. was asleep on the bed.

The scene took hours to shoot and was exhausting. At one stage I went onto the terrace for a smoke. Walter was already there sucking on a cancer stick. He smiled, “How are you liking your first day?” he asked.

I laughed. “Can I take a photo to commemorate the day?” I asked.

I left the apartment as the evening darkness was falling. It was still raining. I was feeling tired, but surprised at how much I had learned. This was a real film, with real decisions to make, real equipment to use, and real people at work. For the first time in my life, I felt I actually knew what making a film was all about.

I worked for Roberta and Walter several times in the years that followed. They were always honest and fair, and my film experience with them shaped my future success far more than anything else that I ever did.

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