When a superstar is treated as merely a tourist

Cathy Barry

Kelly St. Claire

Jazzinco

Phil Barry

Cathy Does Vegas

I&apos;m sure it doesn&apos;t happen to Madonna or Angelina Jolie when they travel to Africa (in search of babies to adopt or just to help the locals), but when British porn mega-star Cathy Barry traveled to Vegas to attend an AVN exhibition, she was treated as &quot;just folks&quot; and able to mingle and do sight- seeing just like any ordinary civilian. For me, the contrast was striking when recalling her immediate predecessor a decade earlier, the great Sarah Young, whose trips to Cannes for the festival market (circa 1992) were traffic-stopping.

This documentary-style video memorializes the trip, which is more educational and fitfully amusing than erotic or arousing. Hubby Phil is along to direct and man the camera, and when his better half goes clothes shopping he&apos;s enlisted as a fake sales associate in the store, filling out the threadbare supporting cast.

Cathy does have a BFF in tow for cross talk and threesome/lesbian humping purposes, in the form of Kelly St. Claire, an actress who I&apos;ve never heard of and needed adding to IMDb&apos;s listings. A seemingly amateur actress who shows up as a fan and is later enlisted to try some fisting (tastefully photographed by Phil in self-censorship mode, but seeming real nonetheless) of Barry&apos;s vagina late in the film is Ali London.

Barry &amp; Kelly do plenty of sight-seeing and in a cornball way it&apos;s kind of fun to watch the various hotels&apos; attractions like gondolas and fountains. I was most amused by Cathy&apos;s salt-of-the-earth reaction to the spaciousness of the rooms at the cheap motel good old Phil put them up at (we see the facade of the Holiday Motel at 2205 S. Las Vegas Blvd., which I took to be product placement in return for some deal on the tariff). One of the things I like about Cathy is her seeming accessibility -not a star who puts on airs, but instead a sort of porno Gracie Fields in the English tradition (e.g., one might imagine her in a takeoff on some hoary old classic like &quot;Sally in Our Alley&quot; if pornographers had any creative bones left in their bodies).

At the show the two gals only fleetingly sit down at a table for a display of Cathy&apos;s wares, spending all the time horsing around, dancing around with strippers, posing with peers such as Minka, and kidding around with the goof-balls who sell sex toys and other paraphernalia at such a low-grade event. Inevitably Ron Jeremy is injected into the action, spontaneously doing his tired stand-up shtick and fondling Barry as part of his &quot;6 Degrees of RJ&quot; methodology that has made him an iconic figure without actually earning such status -just as hanger-on Bill Margold did in an earlier era.

One sidelight was instructive: she makes a contact with a perfectly routine sleaze-ball of the industry, a guy running various fetish websites, who enlists Cathy &amp; Kelly&apos;s participation in posing for stills at his &quot;CatFight Corner&quot; set- up. The battling babes poses look like something from the late 1940s, and culminate in Cathy&apos;s displeasure when a milky liquid is poured all over her (apparently to simulate cum in still shots), getting into her nose and hair and generally wiping that Miss Congeniality smile off her face.

As porno travelogues go, &quot;Cathy Does Vegas&quot; has its moments and was certainly pleasing to me as a fanatical fan.

I'm sure it doesn't happen to Madonna or Angelina Jolie when they travel to Africa (in search of babies to adopt or just to help the locals), but when British porn mega-star Cathy Barry traveled to Vegas to attend an AVN exhibition, she was treated as "just folks" and able to mingle and do sight- seeing just like any ordinary civilian. For me, the contrast was striking when recalling her immediate predecessor a decade earlier, the great Sarah Young, whose trips to Cannes for the festival market (circa 1992) were traffic-stopping.

This documentary-style video memorializes the trip, which is more educational and fitfully amusing than erotic or arousing. Hubby Phil is along to direct and man the camera, and when his better half goes clothes shopping he's enlisted as a fake sales associate in the store, filling out the threadbare supporting cast.

Cathy does have a BFF in tow for cross talk and threesome/lesbian humping purposes, in the form of Kelly St. Claire, an actress who I've never heard of and needed adding to IMDb's listings. A seemingly amateur actress who shows up as a fan and is later enlisted to try some fisting (tastefully photographed by Phil in self-censorship mode, but seeming real nonetheless) of Barry's vagina late in the film is Ali London.

Barry & Kelly do plenty of sight-seeing and in a cornball way it's kind of fun to watch the various hotels' attractions like gondolas and fountains. I was most amused by Cathy's salt-of-the-earth reaction to the spaciousness of the rooms at the cheap motel good old Phil put them up at (we see the facade of the Holiday Motel at 2205 S. Las Vegas Blvd., which I took to be product placement in return for some deal on the tariff). One of the things I like about Cathy is her seeming accessibility -not a star who puts on airs, but instead a sort of porno Gracie Fields in the English tradition (e.g., one might imagine her in a takeoff on some hoary old classic like "Sally in Our Alley" if pornographers had any creative bones left in their bodies).

At the show the two gals only fleetingly sit down at a table for a display of Cathy's wares, spending all the time horsing around, dancing around with strippers, posing with peers such as Minka, and kidding around with the goof-balls who sell sex toys and other paraphernalia at such a low-grade event. Inevitably Ron Jeremy is injected into the action, spontaneously doing his tired stand-up shtick and fondling Barry as part of his "6 Degrees of RJ" methodology that has made him an iconic figure without actually earning such status -just as hanger-on Bill Margold did in an earlier era.

One sidelight was instructive: she makes a contact with a perfectly routine sleaze-ball of the industry, a guy running various fetish websites, who enlists Cathy & Kelly's participation in posing for stills at his "CatFight Corner" set- up. The battling babes poses look like something from the late 1940s, and culminate in Cathy's displeasure when a milky liquid is poured all over her (apparently to simulate cum in still shots), getting into her nose and hair and generally wiping that Miss Congeniality smile off her face.

As porno travelogues go, "Cathy Does Vegas" has its moments and was certainly pleasing to me as a fanatical fan.

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Cathy Does Vegas

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