An open letter to Sylvester Stallone:
Dear Sly,
I just saw you in “Cop Land” carrying 40 pounds over your Rambo weight. I know you’ve lost the weight because you’ve been on every talk show in the country promoting the movie and you’re back to your “Cliffhanger”-“Judge Dredd”-“Cobra” hard body.
I beg you, please, please, put the weight back. You are so much more appealing with a little paunch, love handles, jowls, a tush and a big old barrely chest. You are so much sexier when you lumber along with your head bent and your thighs rubbing together, grounded like a mighty tree by those 40 pounds, than when you run and climb and jump and leap and swing from branch to branch. (Boys do that.) You’re so much more huggable, lovable and touchable that way. Take it from a woman.
With 40 extra pounds, you are attainable. You’re not some fantasy; you’re not Fabio anymore. Women are practical creatures, and in “Cop Land” you look like the kind of guy a woman thinks she could actually have a shot at. That’s sexy.
I was a big fan of yours in the first “Rocky” days. You had a kind of Victor Mature thing going, a strong masculine presence, which was nice, but at the same time, you were kind of foolish. I can still see you in that black vinyl jacket and porkpie hat, yelling “Yo, Adrian.” What a potent combination: testosterone laced with humor.
Women like a project and you were a major project in those days. You needed doing. You were like a big old comfy chair that was begging to be reupholstered. You needed someone to clean you up, dress you up, teach you to talk and to walk. You had the potential; you just needed a firm hand to guide you.
In other words, you were vulnerable. And that made you sexy.
And then you got all buffed for your Rocky and Rambo roles and all those other car-crash, shoot-’em-up, bang-bang movies you made. And frankly, at that point, you became just another Arnold Schwarzenegger (who has all the sex appeal of a Ken doll). You lost the vulnerability, and as far as I’m concerned, the sexiness too. Perfection is not sexy. Rippling muscles, tight buns, mighty biceps and washboard abs impress other guys, but honestly, they really don’t do much for women.
And that’s the truth.
Ann Landers took a poll a while ago and found that women would rather cuddle than have sex. Well, if she asked them, she’d find they’d rather be with a real man, i.e., someone with some imperfections, than a GQ model. No woman wants to be with a man who’s better looking than she is, who has a better body, a flatter stomach and a cuter butt. No woman wants a guy who works harder at his looks than she does. It’s unnatural.
There’s a scene in “Cop Land” that is as erotic as any scene in any movie. You are with the woman you have loved all your life but have never been with. You are fully dressed and so is she. She takes your giant head in her arms and pulls you toward her.
Wow!
Now, men might not find this scene sexy. (What do they know? They think Pamela Anderson is a natural blond.) But there is so much emotion and bottled-up longing and passion going on, it’s almost breathtaking. When the scene ends, we don’t know if you two have had sex or not, and we don’t care.
Frankly, after that intensity, anything else would have been downhill.
(I’m just wondering, could it be possible that men would find Sharon Stone sexier if she gained, say, 25 pounds? Would they prefer Julia Roberts if she wore a size 12 instead of a size 2? Would Demi Moore’s movies do better if you couldn’t get a paper cut on her hip bones? Do the gravity-defying boobs on Jenny McCarthy ever strike men as silly? Right.)
So, Sly–I feel I can call you that, we go back a long way together–I’d like you to think about what I said. Don’t pass up the doughnuts and the ice cream and the steaks and the mashed potatoes. Have seconds. Eat for two. Fill up, fill out. You may lose your hold on teenage boys, but there are a lot of women who are more than willing to take up the slack.
Bon appetit,
Cheryl
