So, Timothy Greenfield-Sanders. The photographer behind the ostensibly edgy coffee table opus XXX: 30 Porn-Star Portraits. Last night, HBO aired a documentary about the making of the book called, half-cleverly, Thinking XXX. And so, I'm thinking...
In the mainstream media, porn can be discussed in one of two ways:
(A) Porn is what desperate, drugged-out child abuse victims do to support their narcissistic needs and their 17 unwanted kids,
or
(B) Porn is a fabulously liberating, beautiful means by which people just like you and me express themselves on camera for the enjoyment of others.
Generally speaking, I can tell in a matter of seconds which way it's gonna go--often before the program has even begun. CBS? A. Fox? B. Drs. Laura or Phil? A. Dr. Ruth? B.
Given that this special was being aired on HBO--which, as we all know, is often a mere penetration shot away from Spice Channel territory--and that it centered around an artiste and his elaborate, high-priced, high art creations, I could see where this one was headed long before I looked up from my improvised dinner of...well, let's just leave it at "improvised."
In case you missed it, here's what you were meant to walk away with: "Omigod! She's so normal! I have a dog just like that! Wow, he had a really rough life, but he's come through it just fine! I had no idea that women were the real money-makers in straight porn! There sure are a lot of pornstars from the Czech Republic! I do the same cardio routine when I work out! Older women and men can be sexy, too! If I hadn't masturbated so often to her nude, sweat-drenched image, I could totally see her at a shopping mall and think she's just a regular person! Oh, look at all these smart, funny people like Gore Vidal and John Waters talking about porn and not blushing--if they can enjoy it, so can I! Sweet Jesus, Karen Finley is really turning into a whiny grandma of the Catskills!"
Which is to say that I have the same problem with the documentary as I have with the book: too much talk. In the book, there are all these essays, and the documentary features all these interviews, and honestly, I don't fucking care. My days of giving a shit about Judith Butler and Eve Sedgwick and other Smart Sex Theorists are long gone, people. I like the book because it's an art book. It has pretty pictures of pretty people. I don't need the blah, blah, blah to justify owning it. And why the hell did they need a documentary in the first place? So Mr. Greenfield-Sanders could talk about his work? He barely gets a word in edgewise. The only truly interesting thing in it is the massively endowed camera used to take the damn photos.
Well, that and the fact that they used Peaches' "AA XXX" for the lead in. She will always and forever rock.
