When I first saw Gianna Michaels on screen, I first thought: Zowie, what a set of hooters! Then I thought: finally a woman who can replace that almost immortal porn star, Christy Canyon. Then I thought: that laugh could bring an army to its knees.
Yes, she is 5’10’, has beautiful pale skin, luminous sapphire eyes, and she has the sort of body that accidentally knocks over the knick-knack stalls at the flea-market when she walks by. But that laugh! It’s a fabulous, relaxed guffaw that she doesn’t use in every scene, but when she does the effect is devastating.
To me anyway, that laugh means she’s bringing the viewers in on the joke that is porn. She knows that she’s naked on camera doing these wild things, she knows that there are a whole lot of guys frenetically choking their chickens as she’s doing it, and with that laugh she’s telling us: “Hey, let’s admit this whole thing – this imaginary, panoptic relationship between me and thousands of people I’ve never met – is intrinsically silly.” That laugh tells us that sex is both simultaneously serious and ridiculous. 
Then there’s the colour issue. Or should I say the colouring? Gianna is indisputably a brunette, not a primped blonde. She’s pale, with barely a hint of a tan. There’s an Irish Rose vibe to her that’s rare in a business that’s all about surgery and fakery.
I don’t expect Gianna Michaels to be around as long as Nina Hartley (although they do share a similar and relaxed manner), but while she is, I’m going to thankful. She’s something special.
