Okay, that’s going to far. Let’s try again.

Stacy Grenrock Woods Has a Cunty Job

A few years ago Stacy Grenrock Woods was a correspondent for The Daily Show. She mananged to parlay that into a gig as a columnist for Esquire Magazine, which means that instead of doing her schtick under the guise of a reporter on a fake news show, now every month she does schtick under the guise of magazine sex advice columnist. For example, from the July 2005 edition of Esquire:

“If this all seems too flashy for you, you may want to try a title from Comstock Films, a company that specializes in films of real couples having real sex, documentary style. Founder and director Tony Comstock offers an alternative for those people who find themselves turned off by the established porn aesthetic… but the real-life approach has drawbacks as well. The chance of Chinese-character tattoos and yellowed futons increases by about 70 percent with this kind of thing. Basically, it all comes down to this: There’s porn, and then there are movies Diane Keaton would like. The choice is yours.”

Nice. Thanks Stacy.

This month Stacy takes on stinky pussy (Is this really a problem? In all my bachelor years I never encountered a twat that didn’t smell and taste divine!)

And some experts (the ones who would talk to us) don’t rule out that your diet could indeed be influencing what the bloggers keep referring to as your “congealed salmon and battery acid” flavor. (But don’t let them bother you. Take it from me: They’re just jealous!) Garlic and onions spring to mind. Curry is far from innocent. Antihistamines, too. Ultimate Guide to Cunnilingus author Violet Blue (who was kind enough to speak to me now that Blue Indigo Violet is no longer accepting my calls) posits that one can sweeten one’s taste by drinking “a smoothie that contains cucumber, mango, and pineapple juice once a day for three or four days,” and hopefully by that time, anyone who was considering oral sex with you will have moved on.

Needless to say, Violet Blue is kinda cheesed about this, the school yard name bullshit adn the gynophobic “sex-advice” too. I expect anyone who grew up with the name “Grenrock” knows a thing or two about the former.(Bonus: when she posed for Playboy in 1989 she listed “rudeness” as her pet peeve. Oh the irony!)

Here’s how it works.

The phone rings or there’s e-mail. An Esquire researcher wants to talk to you about an upcoming article. You are flattered, you are excited. The researcher is polite and interested. You tell them all sorts of stuff. When they ask you about other companies you list S.I.R. Productions as “female-friendly” porn. (Absolutely true, but probably not what they had in mind.) The researcher jots all of this down, thankful that he’s found a one-stop shop for all the notes he’s going to pass along to Stacy. Stacy never talks to you, she never sees your movie or anything from the other companies listed.

A month later you get a call from a fact checker. She wants to make sure that Comstock is spelled C O M S T O C K.

About a month after that the article comes out. Of course you are not happy to see something you care about, something you’ve worked hard for, made sacrifices for, treated like a joke.

But the next day the searches for [comstock films] are up, and over the next month or so sales rise too. Not enough to retire, but maybe enough to hire a baby sitter and take your wife out on a date. You feel a little less angry and disappointed, and a little more circumspect.

You will get more requests; magazines, newspapers, television. Some of these requests represent genuine interest in what you do, many do not.

You’ll feel flattered that someone regards you as an expert. But, because you feel like the “little guy” you will feel anxious when someone wants you to say something or do something that you don’t want to do. You think about how nice it was to spend an evening out with your wife, you think about the bills that come due each month–whether or not anyone buys any of your movies.

Then you say no.

When you say no you’ll get a note like this:

RE: Case Closed: Slick Transitions Story

Hi Tony,

As the editor on the Slick Transitions piece authored by Lxxxx, I wanted to deliver the news that we’ve opted to run with an alternate source for the Slick Transitions piece. With this and all stories, we confirm the accuracy of information with more than one source per article. I’ve been told that you expressed several concerns with various attributions and tips - and thus, given your reservations and our timeline, we’ve chosen to use another expert for the piece.

Best,
Kxxxxxx

The next month sales will be down, and you won’t know if it’s because your Google traffic is off, or because your name wasn’t in the that magazine. You will wonder if you should have said yes. You will wonder if you’re getting treated differently because what you do is about sex, and you’re supposed to be grateful anytime the mainstream press takes an interest. You live on coffee and bile for a few days (not a healthy diet.)

Then something will happen that will remind you why you do what you do:

I have issues with sex.

I’m a sexual abuse survivor. Anyone who’s been sexually abused comes into sexuality with a handbag and 2 trunks of emotional baggage. I’ve been on SS Denial since I was a child…

A link took me to www.comstockfilms.com. Dubbed: ‘Real People, Real Life, Real Sex’ the site explores sexuality for real. In a documentary styled venture into 2 people’s life we meet, and enjoy, the couple and then venture into the velvety movement of their bodies.

I must say. I was stunned. I’m not a fan of porn. I am disgusted by a lot of what is sold to men. The fairytale behind that isn’t charming, in my opinion.

But watching the clips I thought, wow. Oh my goodness. So THIS is sex. For real. And I loved the charming banter of the couples.

I feel grown up right now. Like a real adult. I’ve confronted one of my demons — enjoying a sexual experience — and I can actively admit that I enjoyed it.

I can only guess at what sort of personal baggage Stacy brings to her writing about sex, but I know all about the cultural baggage. It’s Tyra Banks making a cheap, undermining joke about faking orgasms; it’s ASHLEY AND KISHA getting banned, while DESTRICTED plays across town; it’s Stacy’s foul quip about congealed salmon and batteries acid. (Attributed to the blogging community, but Google comes up empty. Maybe that’s a peek into Stacy’s personal baggage after all.)

It’s that, when it comes to sex, it’s more acceptable to be flippant, condescending, disgusting, than it is to be sincere.

So last night I ended up having an hour-long phone conversation with David Cay Johnston, the New York Times reporter whose byline appears on yesterdays article Indications of a Slowdown in Sex Entertainment Trade.

Mr. Johnston pointed out that 1) the article’s headline was “slowdown”, and 2) the article mentioned that independently generated financial data about the “adult entertainment industry” is all but impossible to come by. Fair enough. I think the article might have made the second point more forcefully, and perhaps sited financial speculation about the size of “the industry” that doesn’t come from people with either an pro-porn or anti-porn agenda. (If he were a regular reader of this blog, he’d know where to look.

We also talked about the book Innumeracy. It turns out it was written by a friend of Mr. Johnston’s, and aside from his reporting duties, he often lectures to journalism students about the importance of understanding numbers.

Everyone’s got an agenda, even me. In my essay The Porn Monster, I laid out my case for the stake that pro-industry people, anti-porn people, journos, and academics have in the continued propegation of (what I feel are) figures for the size of the “adult industry” that simply aren’t supported by evidence or common sense. In short, if you go looking for money in the adult industry, you can’t find it.

Now I’ll cop to my agenda.

Hysterionic reporting on the porn industry, especially the grossly inflated size of the porn industry has given rise to the popular notion that the industry is a beheomuth that nearly perfectly serves the erotic entertainment needs of the public. A phrase you’ll hear time and time again in “the bizz” is, “With 10,000 titles a year, there’s something for everyone!”

Looking from the outside, the existence of title like DIRTPIPE MILKSHAKES (volumes 1 and 2) lends credence to this idea. After all, if a $13B/year industry is making dozens, perhaps even hundreds titles a year devoted to such exotic sexual interests as women eating semen out of other women’s anuses, then certainly there must be something out there for people with more pedestrian tastes – things like convincing, well-crafted depictions of mutually pleasurable sex.

But while there’s no shortage of anal creampie themed videos, gaping anus themed videos, and other things to unsavory to mention on this blog, finding well-crafted sexually explicit films that convincingly depict mutual pleasure is all but impossible. As I said to Stacy Grenrock Woods in Esquire a couple of years ago, it’s easier to find a well-made fishing show than a well-made sex film.

Porn’s supposed to be this multi-billion dollar a year business, so big and dangerous there’s an entire department at the DOJ devoted to it; and it churns out thousands and thousands of titles each year, seeming to serve every nitch fetish, but it can’t seem to serve the wide-spread and basic desire that many people have to see a well-crafted depiction of two people who really seem to be enjoying having sex with each other.

People know in their gut something’s not right. People know there’s a disconnect. People know that what they want to see isn’t some specialized nitch, it’s a basic human desire. Yet it goes unserved. Why? To me the answer is quite simple.

The restrictions on the distribution of erotic images (as in you won’t be able to find MATT AND KHYM at Walmart, Blockbuster, etc.) has restricted the business to making money in a very few, and not especially lucrative ways. Porn margins are razor thin, and the result is that “the industry” vastly overserves niche sexual interest markets, where issues of production quality, or even simple honesty in packaging will be overlooked, while it vastly underserves sexual interest with broader appeal, but much higher expectations.

The combination of the digital video revolution and the internet has removed virtually all barriers to entering the market. These days, any idiot with a BestBuy credit card can make and market porn, and that’s just what’s happened. And anyone who’s taken a highschool economics class knows what happens when too much supply chases too little demand. Certainly Greg Zobary does (from LukeIsBack.com)

Luke: “Do you think there are any millionaires in the industry who are solely employees?”
Greg: “No.”
Luke: “Do you think there are any billionaires in the industry?”
Greg: “No way.”
Luke: “Maybe this isn’t a $12 billion a year industry.”
Greg: “It’s a $400 million [DVD] industry, maybe $500 million. The industry went out and promoted these figures that included strip club revenues, hotel revenues, etc and came up with this [$12 billion] figure, hoping it would lead to the legitimization of the industry. What it has really led to is a bunch of idiots who watch this stuff and think that porn is the new gold rush. They jump in and produce a few movies and think they’re going to get rich. Everyone I’ve seen who’s done that has walked away with no money. We no longer insure these people. They don’t stick around.

But even if you take the well-publicized porn figures at face value, porn just isn’t that big a business when you compare it to other things American’s spent money on. For example:

According to the American Sport Fishing Association who take their data from the US Fish and Wildlife Service, in 2003 Americans spent over $5 billion on equipment, nearly $15 billion on fishing trips, and some $20 billion more on boats, trucks, licenses and other fishing-related products and services. Anglers paid $290 million on ice alone and the total annual economic impact of the sport fishing industry for 2003 was estimated at $116 billion.

According to PackagedFacts.com in 2005 the market for feminine hygene products was over $3 billion. (As with porn in the NYT article, apparently the tampon industry is looking for ways to counter the effects of an aging population on their bottom line.)

Do people spend money on porn? Obviously yes. Is porn “big business”. That depends on whose numbers you use and what you compare it to, and what you think “big business” is. It might be bigger than tampons, it’s definately not as big as fishing. Do we spend to much time thinking about porn? Maybe. Do I? Definitely!

Commenting on yesterday’s blog entry, Housewyfe echos my own mix of excitement and disappointment when she writes:

Frustrating that Ms. Woods seems more intent on writing something smart (couldn’t think of a better word) than actually providing the information so many of us are seeking. Regardless of her navel gazing, I hope the mention brings you lots of attention/business.

She’s not alone. This morning brings several notes that are similar in tone. Tony Comstock and his army of horny middle-aged women are enraged that Stacey Grenrock Wood has failed to use her platform at Esquire magazine to spread the good news – that sex is beautiful and films of sex can be beautiful too! Well okay – not enraged, but disappointed. I am pleased, and touched by this show of support; perhaps even a little startled to have “devoted fans”. But having (mostly) recovered from my own wounded pride, I do think it’s worth thinking about this from her point of view.

Ms. Wood’s wit not withstanding, she is in a bit of a bind. As I said to El last night, “If a friend asked you to recommend a sexually explicit film she could enjoy (with or without her husband) and you couldn’t offer them something from Comstock Films, what would you tell them?” The stock answers and the “established porn aesthetic” leave a lot of people cold. Even if Ms. Wood’s writing style usually brimmed with sincerity, I wouldn’t blame her for being flippant about porn.

The other thing to keep in mind is Esquire is “the big leagues”. Columnist are hired for their voice, their writing style; not to spend time talking to people like me. I was contacted by an intern researcher, who sent along his notes to Ms. Wood. She never spoke to me and (I’m guessing) she didn’t have time to follow up on the research info herself. (How else does a company that makes films of lesbians, by lesbians, and (mostly) for lesbians ends up in the pages of Esquire magazine?)

The researcher heard my whole rant about taking a cinematic (rather than pornographic) approach to explicit sex, saw Xana and Dax, and even sent me a note saying “I just got done watching Xana and Dax and it is good stuff.” By the time I was done with him, if he wasn’t actually a convert, he was receptive to the idea that seeing people have sex doesn’t have to mean lowering your standards and expectations (well) below the Sunday bassfishing show level. But he was in the New York office, and I’d be very surprised if the DVD ever made its way to the columnist, who lives out in Los Angeles. (I sent her e-mail offering to send her a copy of her own. We’ll see if she take us up on it.)

In any event, George is right: the important thing is that they spell your name correctly. In the overnight, we’ve see a 20-fold increase in the number of people finding their way to ComstockFilms.com using the search string “comstock films”. That’s probably a better response than if we had paid to run a full page ad!

-TC

“I don’t care what you say about me, as long as you say something about me, and as long as you spell my name right.”

– George M. Cohan

Some of you may remember my post from last month where I excitedly announced I had been contacted by an Esquire fact checker to make sure they had my name and title correct, thus seeming to confirm that Comstock Films would be mentioned in an upcoming issue of the magazine. And in fact, Comstock Films is mentioned (and I am quoted) in Stacey Grenrock Wood’s Sex column in the July 2005 edition in which a reader asks her:

“My girlfriend wants to start watching porn together, but only of the “for women, by women” variety. Can you give me some suggestions for both titles and directors?”

After mentioning the usual suspects (plus some unusual suspects provided to her researcher by yours truly) for “porn by women, for women”, Ms. Woods goes on to say:

“If this all seems too flashy for you, you may want to try a title from Comstock Films, a company that specializes in films of real couples having real sex, documentary style. Founder and director Tony Comstock offers an alternative for those people who find themselves turned off by the established porn aesthetic: “The average person is like, ‘Well, wait a minute. This doesn’t even look as good as a Sunday-morning fishing show. I mean, I like fishing a lot, but I like sex more. How come they can’t make a sex film that is as good as a bass-fishing show?’ ” Of course, we’ve all asked ourselves that a million times, but the real-life approach has drawbacks as well. The chance of Chinese-character tattoos and yellowed futons increases by about 70 percent with this kind of thing. Basically, it all comes down to this: There’s porn, and then there are movies Diane Keaton would like. The choice is yours.”

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m excited that we’re mentioned in a publication with a circulation of 700,000+. And I’m absolutely and unequivocally proud that we make films that men and women can enjoy watching together. I even understand that Ms. Wood’s snarky tone is a part of her schtick (she used to write for the Daily Show). But as pleased as I am at getting a little mainstream ink, her write-up is a reminder that the mainstream is still a ways away from giving any serious consideration to the idea of watching (or making) films about sex.

In Richard Corliss’s article Porn Again (in which yours truly was quoted twice) Corliss managed to disavow any interest in actually seeing a film of people have sex no less than three times, and frankly I don’t blame him. Corliss (to some degree) lives in the public eye, and a desire to see graphic depictions of sex is still regarded as a slightly humiliating; one step above wiping one’s ass in terms embarrassment, one step below in terms of necessity. (I’m also frustrated that my Comstock joke has once again flown under the radar of a presumably educated and well-read person!)

Time will tell if I am, in fact, a “maverick”, or just another pornographer with a slight twist on an old idea. In the meantime, I’m going call a colleague who probably has Diane Keaton’s home address in his rolodex. Maybe we can find out if she likes our films. I’m also going to keep George’s words close to my heart!

-T.C.

I just got off the phone with Esquire Magazine, which is trying to answer the age old question “Isn’t there anything out there I can watch with my wife/girlfriend?” They’re pursuing the “porn by women for women” angle, so my first question for Esquire was “It’s Tony with a Y. What brought you to Comstock Films?” Well the answer is Erika Hallqvist of Lust Films, who passed along our name to an Esquire researcher.

If you’re not familar with Erika and Lust Films, you should be. While her approach to filmmaking is considerably more ambitious than ours (real scripts, real acting), her goal is the same – the explicit depiction of real sexual passion. Of course it doesn’t hurt that her erotic short The Good Girl has one of the best looking men I’ve ever seen having sex on camera.

So take a trip over to Lust Films, have a look at the trailer for The Good Girl and her behind the scenes clip, which will show you how much effort goes into her work. While you’re there, why not drop her a note of encouragement. Going against the grain is tough, no matter what you’re doing; and believe me, every little bit of encouragement helps!

-T.C.