I’m not sure about doc footage mixed with renactments, but you tell me. The Playboy brand stopped being a hip thing…when, in 1966 or ’67? And yet Hugh Hefner‘s legend is safe and sound. He was a revolutionary in his time — a hugely successful publisher, entrepeneur and cultural game-changer. A pajama-wearing, pipe-smoking smoothie, a man who was probably blown 10,000 times, the king of the nascent sexual revolution of the ’50s and early ’60s. To have been an honored celebrity guest in Hefner’s Chicago mansion during the Eisenhower, Kennedy or early Johnson administrations! 20-something years ago I sat down with Hef at the L.A. mansion for a magazine piece about celebrity poker games. No babes, no boobs…just an interview on his living-room couch. Imagine if Hef was renowned as a master of cunnilingus in the same way Junior Soprano enjoyed that rep among his criminal cronies and sometime girlfriends. A little more than a decade ago I read a screenplay for a musical based on Hef’s life. I thought it was good but not quite there.