Have you every noticed that talking/debating about porn is (mostly) more engaging than actually watching it?

Anyway, Ms. Naughty, just back from bushwalking and wine-guzzling has added her two cents to the porn/blowjob/feminism debate in a post entitled Boring Blowjobs and Feminist Facials. This is the part that jumped out at me:

“Can a facial ever be “feminist”? My answer is yes. As always, context is everything.”

I agree. Context is everything. I’d even go as far as saying context is the only thing. Porn is often criticized for being fake and/or lacking context, but this is utterly untrue.

Porn is vividly real and hypercontextual. The very essence of photographic pornography is the depiction of actual sex, and it doesn’t get more “real” than two people actually fucking.

The problem is that (overwhelmingly) the reality depicted and the context in which it’s placed is utterly unappealing if not downright offensive. But when it comes to photographic images of sex, like the words “porn” and “feminism”, “reality” and “context” are at least as slippery.

Is “reality” the degree to which the viewer becomes engrossed in the narrative conceit of the film, or does “reality” extend to how well the narrative conceit jibes with the particulars of the production?

Similarly, is context limited to the moment when the house lights go down to the final fade to back? Or does it include the director’s Q&A after, or the Behind-The-Scene on the DVD? Or how about an e-mail exchange between the film’s director and a disappointed viewer? This is a post I made back in September of 2005 entitled Real Porn (No, Really):

Two days ago I received a note from a fellow who, although he liked many things about Marie & Jack and Xana & Dax, was rather disappointed that both love scenes ended with external ejaculation. Here’s a bit from his note (used by permission):

These videos have what I have been looking for that is missing from the usual “porn” videos with one exception. You claim that these represent real sex but in both cases the man pulled out prior to cuming and we were shown proof that he came… Maybe these couples actually have sex in this way but I doubt it. If they do I suggest using some couples who do not as well. This was a particular issue in the Xana & Dax video where he spent some time masturbating himself to climax. Why miss out on the wonderful sensations of being in your woman before cuming unless you are not able to do so for some reason. That, to a large extent, ruined the movie for me.

Also, my wife does not often watch explicit videos because she misses the loving relationship aspect of sex that makes it good for her. There is much in these movies that I suspect she would enjoy but I am sure she would be put off by this as well. She has made similar comments about other explicit videos.

He was also concerned that this might also be the case in Matt & Khym, which he had on pre-order. I wrote back:

Dear XXX,Thank you for your thoughtful e-mail. It very succinctly addresses some of the vagaries of shooting sex scenes of people having unscripted and and undirected sex. With your permission I’d very much like to use your letter in an upcoming blog post. FYI, Matt and Khym’s love scene ends with Matt ejaculating inside of Khym. No particular effort is made to “prove” that he ejaculated, but afterwards Khym does reach down to catch a little on her finger and taste it.

Yours,
Tony Comstock

This seemed to (mostly) satisfy his concerns:

From your response I take it that Xana & Dax and Marie & Jack choose to handle the men’s ejaculation without any direction or suggestions. If so I wonder if that is how they normally have sex or if they did it that way because they thought that it might be expected, maybe from watching “normal porn”. You might want to make it clearer to those you film that they don’t have to do things differently, especially that.I am not complaining if that is normal for them. It just seemed faked because of the way men’s ejaculation is handled in most porn.

The “might make it clearer” comment reminds me of the conversation I had with Desiree in the weeks prior to shooting her and her husband Ben.

“Oh, so you don’t want him to cum all over my face then?” she asked in response to my saying I just wanted them do have nice normal natural sex.

“Um well,” I stuttered, ” I don’t want you to do something you don’t enjoy when it’s just the two of you just because the camera is there, or because you think we want or need you to do something like that.”

“Oh no. I love having Ben blow on my face. I think it’s great, we do it all the time!”

“Well okay then. Please don’t let our being there inhibit you!” (It didn’t. Desiree had three orgasms that were very nearly disturbing in their intensity.)

Meanwhile, a tempest in a teapot seems to be swirling over similar question about what is and isn’t real over at SuicideGirls.com. Between kids, station wagon, suburban tract house, and a BMI of 26, I’m not really an alt kind of guy, (and even when I was young and broke and played my guitar too loud, I still wasn’t wasn’t an alt kind of guy) so I don’t really know that much about SuicideGirls, besides the fact that the chicks have downtown hairstyles, tats and piercing, and the photography style tends toward the deep focus/small focal plane style that I don’t really dig.

I do know what I thought I knew about SG, which was that I thought it was some hip, alternaporn site, run by technologically empowered female scenesters who were using the internet and cheap digital cameras to deconstruct the traditional pin-up. Okay, that’s cool in concept, even if I don’t really dig it as art, let alone as stroke material. Now it turns out that maybe SG is just some site run by some guy who’s making money off a lot of 18 year old girls’ yearnings to be a little less anonymous in the celebrity-obsessed world that we inhabit. Somehow that doesn’t seem quite so hip.

So what’s it all about, Alfie?

Back during that internet thing, people would sometimes say, “Content is king,” and the inflection they used seemed to indicate they thought they were offering a pearl of wisdom. Well here’s my pearl of wisdom, at least when it comes to making sex films: Context is king. Context is king, and when you use ‘reality’ as your conceit you walk a fine line. Most audiences are sophisticated enough to know that “the truth” is not the same thing as what you would have seen if you were on the set that day. But they’re also sensitive enough to know when the “reality” you try and present is too far way from what they would have felt if they had been on the set.

I don’t know what the “truth” is about SuicideGirls. The truth about Comstock Films is that all the way along there is a conspiracy between me and the couple I’m working with to present a very idealized portrait of their sexual relationship. It’s no more (or less) real than the nightly news or a novel.

Before their scene I asked Matt and Khym how they intended to enjoy Matt’s orgasm (experience has taught me not to assume that a “real couple” doesn’t enjoy the “so fake” external pop shot). When they told me that he was going to cum inside of her, I made a couple of suggestions for how we could visually signal the audience “yes, it really did happen.” The result can be seen in that lovely Comstock Films button that Mrs.C made for us.

Does that ruin it for you? I hope not.

As a director my ideal is that everything that an audience needs to know to enjoy one of my films should be presented within the confines of the film itself. If any information from “outside the frame” enhances the enjoyment the film, that’s fine, but the film itself should be the essential experience. If a viewer is on the fence until I’ve explained my intentions at the Q&A, or they seen everyone goofing off and having a good time in the BTS, or been given my assurances that it was “real” in a private e-mail exchange, then in my mind, the film has failed that viewer.

But film is first and foremost a commercial undertaking, so as a producer and marketeer, I recognize that creating and shaping an external context for our work is an essential part of the art and business of making films. “Real People, Real Life, Real Sex”; that’s the “frame” with in which we present our “erotic documentaries.” (Of course “erotic documentaries” is yet another frame.)

But for all the effort we put into framing our work, there’s a limit to how much control we have over the context in which our films are understood. By my reckoning, at the very most even a filmmaker like Steven Speilberg only has control over 49% of how any given viewer sees and understands one of his films.

I work on the assumption that I have even less control, so a lot of my effort goes into being mindful of vast space into which viewers will pour their own understanding and life experiences, and recognizing that each viewer is going to create their own context, based on their own understanding of sex, relationships, and pleasure.

Sometimes this works.

I feel much better this morning, really I do. Of course it’s disappointing that folks in Sydney won’t get a chance to see DAMON AND HUNTER: DOING IT TOGETHER on the big screen, but I’ve gotten over the idea that playing at the in queerDOC, at the Dendy is proof that DAMON AND HUNTER is a real movie. To begin with, queerDOC is replacing a controversial, ground-breaking, awarding-winning documentary about gay love and gay sex with a television mini-series. In light of that, I can’t really feel it says anything about the film that they’ve decided not to risk screening it. (Is my insecurity showing?)

But that’s beside the point.

For all my doubts, I know in my gut and in my heart that DAMON AND HUNTER is as good a film as I’ve ever made. It’s a watchable, entertaining, and enjoyable little production, and it stands up next to any of films I’ve made about about “serious” and “decent” topics, all without war, death, disease. I didn’t get dyspeptic or depressed making this film, or lose any weight. In fact I smiled the whole way through.

I also feel like this adventure with the OFLC and queerDOC is another trial passed.

In the last year we’ve been approached by big name television, major production companies, and distributors; all dangling the hope of dollars and/or fame if we’d just do what we’d do a little differently. Each time has been stressful, trying to measure the needs of our family and my professional and artistic goals against the offer on the table. I’m a pragmatist, not a purist, so this isn’t an easy calculus, especially trying to factor intangibles like artistic freedom and integrity against the very tangible needs of our business and our family. If anyone has a formula for balancing my desire for artistic fame against being able to buy a new car (two kids + two big dogs = minivan), please let me know!

This also gave me a chance to see that there are people who support what we do, and that’s probably the most important thing. Long before Comstock Films ever made a nickel, there were people who said “Don’t stop. You’re doing something really important. You’re day will come.” I needed to hear that then, I still need to hear it. To the following I am ever grateful:

Lex and David at Queer Screen, for even considering this problematic little film in the first place

Brett at Qmagazine

Steve Dollar

Karen at My Secret Place, who graciously sponsered our posters

MelonFarmer.co.uk

The Sydney Star Observer

Max at RefusedClassification.com

Luke, Andrew and the rest of the gang at DNA

Mike at Indie Film Nation

Cinekink

Cathy at Bnews

YarravillePaul

JR and PJ at GayVN

Censor Watch

Ms. Naughty

Leigh and Krathyn at Bent Magazine

Raena at Frankel Lawyers

Luke at the Toolshed, who dipped into his own stock of DAMON AND HUNTER to get copies to the press and other interested parties in Sydney the same day they asked for them.

Documents on Call

Audacities of Censorship

Damon DeMarco and Hunter James

Fleshbot

Jack at GayPornBlog.com

Critter at Bitchless

The ever lovely and wonderful Viviane

Andreus

And of course Richard, Glitch Bar, and everyone else at MUFF for having the nerve to show this film to people who wanted to see it.

Over the years I’ve learned it really doesn’t matter how many times you hear “no”, so long as you hear “yes” often enough to keep going. Thanks to all of you for helping us keep going!

Some few weeks ago I came across this exchange on a thread about women and porn in Violet Blue’s section of the J.T. Stockroom Forums:

Opined Sage:

“What about all those dime-store “Romance” novels? Those are porn, just wrapped up in a cute, easy to digest form. I remember getting my hands on one of those when I was 15, way before I even knew what porn was, and just getting aroused out of my mind at some of the sex scenes in those books. Sad that some women never get farther along in their sexuality than the watered down versions in romance novels.

“I love porn- I think that, with everything, it just depends on how you approach it. Sure, there’s girls in porn who are being victimized by the people who make the porn, but that boils down to a problem of education- these girls just didn’t know what they were getting into. Personally, I love porn! I think most women have huge hang-ups about their bodies and their own sexuality, and so porn becomes taboo because “If s/he really loved me he’d stop looking at porn and pay attention to me!” The problem of misunderstanding between sexual partners compounds into a hatred of porn, because porn is then seen as a wedge driving partners apart. The porn watcher feels ashamed, because they don’t see anything wrong with porn, and the other person in the relationship feels angry and neglected because they don’t understand the fun, playful aspect that comes with watching porn.”

I had a lot to say about this post, most of it not very nice, but I held my tongue. My dear friend Ell did not:

Sage, I don’t know if I’m misunderstanding you on the romance thing - forgive me if I am. I think I could safely say that the majority of those “romance novels” are better crafted, with greater respect for the reader than most porn DVD’s. If they represent some kind of “watered down” version of sexuality it certainly sells well. I’m not sure if sexuality exists on a continuum — that you need to move from soft core romance to more explicit versions to achieve some kind of sexual growth or saying that you don’t enjoy a lot of porn is somehow because you’re less sexually advanced, adventurous or insecure. I’m almost sure that readers of romance are able to have and do have really good and wild sex. I think I get a bit disappointed with porn because it very rarely depicts anything that’s as good as the sex I have in my bedroom.

“In the last couple of years I think I like the idea of porn, more than I like most porn I’ve watched to be honest”

(On of the reasons I like Ell so much is because she can express herself with a gentle resolve that challenges people’s ideas without attacking them personally. I wish I could be more like her.)

This exchange has been rattling around in my brain, knocking things loose until today when I visited Ms.Naughty’s blog. Her entry is ostensibly a warm review for Candida Royalle’s Eyes of Desire, but it’s got a few sharp words for the phrase “Good for couples and beginners”. Says Ms. Naughty:

“Candida’s films feature fairly vanilla sex, and she’s less interested in close-up, gynecological shots than she is in depicting realistic, emotionally engaged sex. Not many other porn filmmakers do this, so I always wonder why reviewers consistently expect her to create the same stuff as everybody else.

“Perhaps it’s just me. I’ve seen far too much porn in the last few years and now all I want to see in a porn film is something different and engaging. It’s entirely possible that some women will find Eyes of Desire to be boring because it’s so vanilla. That’s fine. But I liked it, and I would recommend it - even if you’re not a beginner or a couple…”

Amen, Ms.Naughty, Amen.

Perhaps (perhaps) Candida Royalle’s films (or dime store romance novels) are a little like wine spritzer, or a dacquari, or some other sort of “girlie drink” with a paper parasol in it.

Perhaps. And maybe that’s not to everyone’s taste.

But it does not follow that “the hard stuff” is comparable to a 20 year-old single malt scotch, or even a bottle of cheap red table wine.

I’ll leave the rest of the analogy to you, dear readers; I don’t trust myself to continue. I don’t have Ell’s gift for gentleness, and I don’t want to insult anyone over their taste in porn. Not today at least….;-)