Ever since the nude wrestling match between Alan Bates and Oliver Reed in Women in Love, we have had the occasional opportunity to see celebrity penises out in the open for all to enjoy.
These often fleeting, forever frustrating glimpses of gratuitous male nudity range from the dramatically necessary (Geoffrey Rush in Quills, Peter Sarsgaard in Kinsey) to the outrageously hilarious (M.C. Gainey in Sideways, Ken Davitian in Borat), from the famous (Richard Gere in American Gigolo, Jaye Davidson in The Crying Game) to the infamous (Vincent Gallo in The Brown Bunny, the entire cast of Shortbus), even from the animated (Bart Simpson in The Simpsons Movie) to the prosthetic (Mark "Dirk Diggler" Wahlberg in Boogie Nights).
And it doesn't seem to matter whether you are an established name actor (Marlon Brando in Last Tango in Paris, Kevin Bacon in Wild Things, Heath Ledger in Brokeback Mountain) or a rising star (Christopher Atkins in The Blue Lagoon, Viggo Mortensen in The Indian Runner, Daniel Craig in Love is the Devil) or even an actual male (Felicity Huffman in Transamerica): they have all dropped trou for our viewing pleasure.
Knowing full well that "art house" stands for "soft core", we have sat through many a pretentious pic from foreign lands (A Room With a View, Total Eclipse, Y tu Mamá También, The Dreamers) to get a peek at "the full monty" (which reminds me: The Full Monty).
Where else but in "the cinema" can we get our fill of the private parts of Ewan McGregor (The Pillow Book, Velvet Goldmine) and Harvey Keitel (Bad Lieutenant, The Piano) on ample (or maybe, not so ample ...) display?
Well, thanks to the wonders of the internet, fuzzy screen shots of all of the above and more (minus the disapproving glare of Saint Joan) are just an unrestricted 'Google' away ... or is that 'Ogle'?
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