Vicky and Charlie, twenty-somethings, one the son of a vicar, the other the daughter of a much loved Radio 4 and Times columnist, friends for years but never boyfriend/girlfriend, decide to make a hardcore porn movie.
Vicky and Charlie are best friends who used to co-review hardcore porn movies. After a year of fat lechers, bored hookers and clunky dialogue, they said, "Hang on, we could make a better film than this ourselves." What was to stop them? Only their conservative families, stammering English reserve, and total lack of experience. They set off at once. This is the extraordinary and hilarious story of their journey from a sofa in North London, through the heart of the sex industry in California, to their own film set in Amsterdam. What happens when a 'nice girl' falls in love with a rent-boy, and a vicar's son attempts to film a gang-bang? Vicky and Charlie learned to see the world through new eyes, and the sex-workers learned how to play cribbage. And together they produced perhaps the most baffling skinflick in history.
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Number of pages: 352
Weight: 263 g
Dimensions: 198 x 129 x 24 mm
'An eminently readable account of utter filth. Just my cup of tea.' Griff Rhys Jones
'Funny, insightful and not at all unpleasant. Well, okay, maybe a little bit unpleasant but you can always avert your gaze.' Jonathan Ross
'This is the Springtime For Hitler of porn. It's a gripping adventure, and obviously the funniest book you'll read all year.' Caitlin Moran
'Strangely avoiding the obvious title Hansel and Gretel in Porno Hell, Victoria and Charlie have succeeded in writing a book they are not old
enough to read. Certainly I wasn't.' Clive James
`Exceedingly funny' Tatler
`Extremely funny, surprisingly heart-warming' GQ
'A satisfyingly prurient read, a hybrid of Eurotrash and Ealing comedy, with added lube.'
Ian Thomson, Daily Telegraph
`You will not read a funnier account of shooting a porn movie.' Jeanette Winterson
'It is a relentlessly funny book and I couldn't put it down.' Stephanie Merritt, Observer