Lou Zivkovich is best known for his appearance, at age 33, as the "nude centerfold" in the July 1974 issue of Playgirl Magazine. While many of Playgirl's nude models tend to have the look of Chippendale dancers -- complete with longish...
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Lou Zivkovich is best known for his appearance, at age 33, as the "nude centerfold" in the July 1974 issue of Playgirl Magazine. While many of Playgirl's nude models tend to have the look of Chippendale dancers -- complete with longish hair, shaved chest, supple body, and poutish expression -- Zivkovich represented a more masculine, more elemental type. His physique was powerful, (though not muscle-bound), with bulky shoulders and thighs, and he lacked the vaunted "wasp waist." He had generous amounts of hair on his forearms, chest, and stomach. (There was so much hair across his pecs that his nipples were almost lost to view.) His facial expressions tended toward natural, unstudied looks, and his stances avoided the artifical, calculated poses favored by many other models. There was no pose, for example, with his hips thrust provocatively forward, and he did not pose with one foot on the ground and one foot on a chair -- a pose which spreads apart the model's legs in order to showcase his "family jewels." Curiously, there were no rear-view shots of Zivkovich. Perhaps it was felt his buttocks weren't that attractive or perhaps Zivkovich vetoed these poses because they might have made him look too submissive. None of the photos emphasized his lower legs and at no point did he lift his arms to fully show off his armpits. (Perhaps they were considered too hairy.) Unfortunately, in its early years of publication, Playgirl only allowed its male models to be shown in relaxed rather than aroused states. This means that Zivkovich could not display what some might consider his greatest asset to its fullest extent, but this omission had the effect of stimulating the imagination of Playgirl readers and leaving them longing for more. Alas, following a brief attempt at an acting career, Zivkovich disappeared from view, leaving his fans only with rich memories of his physical presence.

Sam Elliott began to attract attention in a trio of minor films: as Ryan O'Neal's drug-pushing pal in "The Games" (1970), as Ray Milland's ecologically-minded houseguest in "Frogs" (1972), and as Vera Miles' no-good seducer in "Molly and Lawless...
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Sam Elliott began to attract attention in a trio of minor films: as Ryan O'Neal's drug-pushing pal in "The Games" (1970), as Ray Milland's ecologically-minded houseguest in "Frogs" (1972), and as Vera Miles' no-good seducer in "Molly and Lawless John." It wasn't until 1976, however, when Elliott played the lead role in "Lifeguard" -- a modest but well-regarded film directed by Daniel Petrie -- that he emerged as an actor seemingly destined for stardom. A successful career definitely followed but full-fledged stardom somehow remained just out of reach. Just why was this?

Perhaps it might be due to the fact that Elliott had a face, voice, and manner uniquely suited to playing in westerns, but he came along at a time when the traditional Hollywood "oater" was riding into the sunset. (Had he been working during the Golden Age of TV Westerns, he might have made a fine "Flint McCullough" on "Wagon Train.") Perhaps his identification with TV mini-series and made-for-TV movies kept him from attaining "A" status in Hollywood. After all, he followed "Lifeguard" with TV roles in such projects as "Once an Eagle" (1976), "Aspen" (1977), "The Sacketts" (1979) "Wild Times" (1980), "Murder in Texas" (1981), "The Shadow Riders" (1982), "Travis McGee" (1983), etc. By the time this spate of TV had ended, Elliott had reached his 40s and no longer had that "star-of-tomorrow" quality.

Elliott did make one theatrical film during these crucial years -- 1978's "The Legacy" which co-starred his soon-to-be-wife, Katharine Ross. The movie was a second-rate hodgepodge of satanism and black magic taking place at an English country estate and it effectively stalled the career progress made by "Lifeguard." He didn't make another theatrical feature till 1985's "Mask."

Finally, another factor may have entered into Elliott's career. He was a good-looking man who looked even better with his shirt off and thus he played "beefcake" scenes in all of his early movies. (For these scenes he did not, as is often the case, shave his chest.) In "Lifeguard," in fact, he spent a good part of the film wearing nothing more than a pair of red Baywatch-style swim trunks. At one point Elliott even changed into a pair of Speedos trim enough and snug enough to prove, beyond a doubt, that he was "genitally-gifted."

And then came his nude scene in "The Legacy." For no real purpose in the plot, Elliott is shown walking naked into a shower. His back is to the camera but he's seen in full-figure and under bright lights long enough to qualify for the highest rating in the guide to film nudity called "The Bare Facts." Elliott certainly looked good in this scene, being at the peak of his physical powers, (prompting one reviewer to hail his "buns by Michelangelo"), but his willingess to flaunt his body on such a feeble excuse may have tainted him with the label -- "male bimbo." How seriously would A-directors regard an actor who seemed to be angling for a shot at a Playgirl centerfold?

Elliott's "beefcake" scenes eased (but did not cease) after the mid-1980s. By this point, however, his career seemed to stuck at the level of TV work and of playing lead roles in B-movies and character roles in A-movies. The stardom promised by "Lifeguard" never quite came into focus.

Dan Pastorini tended to be a football quarterback from the Joe Namath mode with a reputation for fast cars, high living, pretty girls, cigars, and good eating. Unfortunately, when he played a supporting role in the 1979 movie, "Killer Fish," he...
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Dan Pastorini tended to be a football quarterback from the Joe Namath mode with a reputation for fast cars, high living, pretty girls, cigars, and good eating. Unfortunately, when he played a supporting role in the 1979 movie, "Killer Fish," he was cast as a glum, humorless "baddie" whose chief asset was his physique. (Pastorini played most of his big scene without a shirt.) Not much more than a year later, however, Pastorini found an outlet for his "rebel" streak by appearing in a nude photospread in the December 1980 issue of "Playgirl." This time, he took off more than just his shirt. Many of the photos -- taken inside a showerroom -- were rearview or profile shots which emphasized his bare buttocks but in some frontal shots he was seen nothing more than a sweaty jockstrap which, though it bulged conspicuously, did not seem to be artificially padded. While "Playgirl" readers got a discreet glimpse of the upper fringe of Pastorini's pubic hair, he did not actually reveal what are politely referred to as his "private parts." Perhaps because of his "rebel" image, this photospread did not harm Pastorini's reputation and may, in fact, have enhanced it. Compare this experience to that of Lou Zivkovich, formerly a player for the Calgary football team, who posed for the July 1974 centerfold in "Playgirl." Retired from professional football, Zivkovich worked as a coach and phys-ed teacher in Apple Valley, California, at the time of the centerfold's publication and was promptly fired by the school board. Students rallied to his defense as Zivkovich protested his firing and a court ruled in his favor. Perhaps the negative reaction to Zivkovich's photos had something to do with the fact that, unlike Pastorini, he did not have the reputation as a high-living "rebel" and he worked with young people in a public school system. Besides, unlike Pastorini, Zivkovich openly and unapologetically displayed his private parts. (Even now, more than 30 years later, Zivkovich's is considered the "Titanic" of "Playgirl" centerfolds.) It's unfortunate that Dan Pastorini abandoned his acting career so quickly, since -- with a superior part to that found in "Killer Fish" -- he might sucessfully have found a way to put his high-living personality onto movie film.

Magazine readers in the mid-1970s must have reacted with surprise when they suddenly found themselves staring at a full-page color photograph of a handsome, well-built man in his early 30s wearing nothing but a smile and a pair of Jockey-brand...
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Magazine readers in the mid-1970s must have reacted with surprise when they suddenly found themselves staring at a full-page color photograph of a handsome, well-built man in his early 30s wearing nothing but a smile and a pair of Jockey-brand underwear. And this wasn't just any man but superstar pitcher Jim Palmer of the Baltimore Orioles and he wasn't wearing a modest pair of nearly-knee-length boxers but rather a trimly-cut pair of briefs. What's more, he didn't assume the discreet pose of the usual underwear model but instead boldly presented himself in such a way as to draw attention to the healthy-sized bulge between his legs. Finally, he didn't display the smoothly-shaved chest of the usual male model but rather sported a healthy growth of dark body hair which unapologetically covered the front of his torso from his collarbones down to his briefs' elastic waistband.

Today these features would not be surprising but in the Jimmy Carter era of some 30 years ago, they attracted considerable attention and comment and made Palmer as well-known to the general public as he was to baseball enthusiasts. The magazine ads must have bolstered Jockey sales as well because the company continued their use into the early 1980s. Even now these ads, torn from such magazines as "Sports Illustrated," can be found offered for sale on eBay.

One wonders what Jim Palmer thought of this phenomenon. He projected a wholesome, "guy next door" image -- handsome but not pretty, physical but not threatening -- yet, in a sense, he was being exploited in ways similar to porn actors. This seems especially true when he graduated from Jockey's regular line of briefs to the scanty "bikini" briefs which, just a generation before, could only have been found modeled in "physique" magazines sold, more or less under the counter, to gay readers. Palmer's poses also grew more provocative, culminating in one in which he stands with his left foot firmly planted on the floor while his right foot is raised to rest on the seat of a chair. This pose forced Palmer to stand with spread-open thighs, thus focusing attention on his bulging crotch as surely as if a glow-in-the-dark bulls-eye had been painted on it.

Despite what some would consider "indignities," however, Palmer's reputation did not suffer because of these ads and he accepted his increasingly iconic status with good humor. Though he must have received financially-tempting offers, he did not follow the example of fellow athletes Jim Brown and Dan Pastorini who posed naked for "Playgirl" magazine. This reticence must have been due to Palmer's innate sense of what is proper rather than to any fear that he would not "measure up" if he stepped out of those briefs and, in the parlance of the 60s, "let it all hang out."