PORNOGRAPHY

Channel 5 made an insipid character study TV documentary entitled X-Rated Ambition focusing on Traci Lords' career leading up to her being the one, in all likelihood, to drop the bombshell to the cops that she had been underage (in the States, at least) for most of her adult film career to that point. Conveniently, at the time, she'd just turned a legitimate 18 and had set up her own adult entertainment company, thus allowing her to have a monopoly on her output after a panicked porn industry were compelled to destroy all remaining vestiges of her in magazines and on tapes. The Californian porn industry, of course, was the perfect scapegoat for reactionary rightwing forces under Ronald Reagan's presidency, even though they would themselves, ironically, likely be for the most part staunch Republicans.

Depressingly, not only Lords herself fails to appear in this documentary of the substance of an empty crisp packet, it also features a roll-call of tenuously connected minor male and female porn D-listers, some of whom had actually fucked Lords on camera. And did I mention Ron Jeremy?

Every one of them talks about how much they loved working with her, fucking her. How enthralling Tracy's peachy white skin was, her uniquely firm luscious pert needy breasts, her wanton sexual enthusiasm, her professionalism, and hence her marketability and extraordinary commercial success. And not one person has the courage to state the blindingly obvious: this was all true because she was 16, a child under US law. Not being aware of this doesn't negate the admitted basic instincts of her co-stars, nor her vast audience. It's a total state of denial, so powerful is the taboo, that men, generally, are more aroused by young girls (or boys), and whatever other fetish they happen to be into. A 16-year-old girl is a sexually powerful force.

And this leads to my main, much bigger, point. Pornography itself is about total denial, both within and outwith it. Nobody will fucking admit to saying out loud what exactly pornography is. The term is loosely bandied about in books, essays, articles, in conversations, sometimes coyly and sometimes disapprovingly, and we all have a common understanding about what we're referring to, but almost nobody will proffer an honest definition. Pornography is everwhere. What is pornography? Stop and ask yourself.

dictionary.com (and others)
refers to 'obscene writings, drawings, photographs, or the like, esp. those having little or no artistic merit' - upon investigating the word 'obscene' we are sternly told 'offensive to morality or decency; indecent; depraved'

Chambers
'books, magazines, films, etc. with no artistic value which describe or show sexual acts or naked people in a way that is intended to be sexually exciting but would be considered unpleasant or offensive by many people'; as an adjunct: 'hardcore is (very) detailed porn', 'softcore ... not (very) detailed', whatever the hell 'detail' means

Princeton
'creative activity (writing or pictures or films etc.) of no literary or artistic value other than to stimulate sexual desire'

Typical legal definitions
tend to revolve around the concept of 'obscenity'; as with anything related to morality, a useful tool for applying absolutist rules to that which has no otherwise rational explanation

Webster's, 1913 edition
rather sweetly, and in keeping with the word's Greek etymology, refers to 'licentious painting or literature; especially, the painting anciently employed to decorate the walls of rooms devoted to bacchanalian orgies'

The mainstream US porn industry
employs the bullshit 'adult entertainment' euphemism in keeping with their careerist conformist principles

Andrea Dworkin's remarkable scything book Pornography was written after months' immersion watching and reading porn, and yet even she, that most nakedly brutally honest of feminists (beyond her personal taboo for the four-letter c-word that is cake), cannot bring herself to say what I've found only the redoubtable Helen Hazen achieved in the 'Pornography' chapter of her extraordinary work Endless Rapture: Rape, Romance, And The Female Imagination.

That pornography is, no more no less, material for the sole purpose of masturbation. That's all there is to it. There, I said it. Masturbation. It's no big deal.

FILLMORE DISCOS 58 - JOE ESZTERHAS SPECIAL

Flashdance (****)
a great dance film with a top soundtrack and as 80s as can be; the gorgeous Jennifer Beals was chosen ahead of Demi Moore and others allegedly for being more fuckable, and whilst undoubtedly true, she's also so much more than that, a real living breathing girl that has the power to bring you to tears - in addition, a huge sigh of relief Gene Simmons and Bob fucking Geldof chose not to participate when asked; I'd love to see a director's cut, in his autobiography Eszterhas was bitter about how the producers hacked it down from its original 140 minutes, there are times it certainly feels truncated

Jagged Edge (***)
I can live with the initial dead body splay scene, but the scariest moment in this courtroom drama is when Jeff Bridges open-mouth kisses Glenn Close, I warn you it's not for the faint of heart; Jagged Edge is essentially a Hollywood giallo, and while not a bad film by any means, you really miss the ingredient of Italo sex 'n' sleaze

Basic Instinct (****)
hugely entertaining and stylish erotic thriller which plots a delicious path between dark comedy and drama - so refreshing to have such a powerfully sexualised female lead role too, the beautiful Sharon Stone takes to her part brilliantly

Sliver (****)
another American giallo, this time (rather loosely) based on Ira Levin's novel; although Sliver seems to have come in for a lot of criticism, I really enjoyed it and - for a film centred around technology, in this case voyeurism and CCTV - it's aged remarkably well; also, despite Eszterhas's deep misgivings, hell, I even love the ending

Showgirls (*****)
Eszterhas's (and Verhoeven's) best, one of the finest films of the 90s, or indeed of all time, a riotous sexy big-budget one-of-a-kind camp classic which is an absolute delight from beginning to its satisfying conclusion (even though you never want it to end); it's a mystery why some describe Showgirls as a guilty pleasure - please, no apologies are necessary for loving this classic

Jade (****)
to get the sleazy full effect, make sure you see the more cohesive and more explicit director's cut of this great blackmail thriller featuring the deliriously attractive Linda Fiorentino (she of Last Seduction fame)

Basic Instinct 2 (**)
Sharon Stone returns as Catherine Tramell and is still looking good for another sexed-up psychological thriller; but if only it had been reprised sooner, not in London, without the detective drudgery, and not with a bunch of bland UK thespians, if only...

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YELLOW REFLECTIVE 8

Photo ops galore as the black leather'd fists of the yellow reflectives attempt to crush dissent.

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Amsterdam, 2010. Photo taken in secret. Almost spotted.

(thanks to Yin)

YELLOW REFLECTIVE 6 
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Enter The Void (*)
as is also often the case with Catherine Breillat, the underlying disingenuousness and lack of real-life transgressive experience (beyond that of a febrile romantic imagination) is the imperative for masking Enter The Void with such excess: every aspect is exaggerated as a form of compensation for an underlying real-world naïveté (just as in Irreversible); and yet while people are creaming themselves over opening title sequences like classic rock fans to a Clapton guitar solo, or else bedazzled by psychedelic graphics condemned to age faster than a Windows 98 screensaver, or even worse, the interminable overhead 'ghost' shots of the streets of Tokyo, what really bothered me is that all this wankfoolery is a set-up for one of the most cringeworthily moralistic final acts I've endured in years

Jackass 3-D (***)
3D and the irrepressible Johnny Knoxville and comrades is a match made in heaven - this valedictory compilation of their latest stunts and pranks, while certainly patchy and played-out at times, does include some classic vignettes that Buster Keaton himself would have been proud of

Easy A (*)
what is it about Hollywood having to cast actresses in their mid-twenties as high school teenagers? I hate that, and I hate this incredibly dishonest film that makes issues out of teenage sexuality that surely do not exist

Our Guys: Outrage In Glen Ridge (*****)
featuring the inestimable Heather Matarazzo, Our Guys is a superb compelling TV movie dramatisation of real life events in which a mentally handicapped girl was raped with a broomstick and a bat, by members of the local high school football team

Farmhouse (**)
you know when horror films start out so promisingly only to fall apart halfway through? usually involving some incredibly silly chase scene - Texas Chainsaw Massacre and The Shining come to mind; well, Farmhouse trumps even that infamy with the most spectacularly gratuitous dissembling of an initially great narrative ever witnessed, it will blow your mind

Get Him To The Greek (*)
what starts out promisingly with a mildly subversive take on the mainstream music industry ends up as a dreary unsatisfying formulaic popcorn comedy

Machete (**)
the pro-Mexican immigrant message of the film, however laudable it may be, gets in the way of what should be basic popcorn retro mexploitation entertainment; also, there's nowhere near enough of a sex and sleaze component; and finally, the veteran Danny Trejo might look the part in stills but simply doesn't have enough on-screen charisma or acting skills to carry off the lead role, whilst the reinvigorated Don Johnson and Steven Seagal, in their respective baddie roles, manage to steal the show

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FILLMORE DISCOS 54 - '70s RARITIES 5

ANTICLASTIC 7

Un-Accorded.

ANTICLASTIC 6
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SHORT BREATHS 11

Mandingo!
the recent VBS documentary Mandingo! about the Floridian interracial swinging scene features a new Cut Hands track, one that isn't expected to be included on the forthcoming album - in case you're wondering which it is, it's the one in the film that doesn't sound like a Led Zeppelin remix

Bijin Tokei
am suffering from a mad addiction to these bijin tokei iDevice apps; not sure what's cuter - the ones with random girls in the streets of Japan, or the ones with the photos taken with fish-eye lenses of kittens and puppies; not to leave anyone out, there's even one with boys now, not to mention a porn incarnation (it had to happen sooner or later)

The Wire
I didn't envy David Keenan's herculean task of transcribing the 4+ hours of dialogue for the Invisible Jukebox, which then had to be edited down quite a bit; anyway, I thought he did a great and meticulous job of making it all work pretty well; there were just a couple of minor corrections I'd like to point out: of course, it was Robert Rental who sold me the Wasp synth (not Daniel Miller), and Bad Girls Get The Fuck Over It is in fact Whitehouse (not a side project as was suggested in the feature's introduction); the magazine also have posted an exclusive short streaming extract from 'Extralinguistic Programming'

Movies
it was time last weekend, once again, to dust off the 3D glasses for the (presumably) valedictory Jackass movie, review coming for that soon, along with Enter The Void and much more; nor has the promised Disney special been forgotten about, I know how much people are not dying to read that

SHORT BREATHS 10
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YELLOW REFLECTIVE 6

A lonesome symbol, vigil to tyranny's rubble.

(thanks to Mark for this one!)

YELLOW REFLECTIVE 5
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PRAVDA 11

Vladimir Putin Braves Formula 1 Race Car
Putin is so fucking alpha it hurts. Beautifully. Likewise, this exquisite collection of photo ops with various animals forms the basis for the construct of legends. In pictures with other world leaders, even with the most ostensibly fearsome tyrants, you can see what a mighty alluring presence he commands. As they squirm.

No One Wants To Work At Russian Police
What the article omits to point out is the glaringly obvious. It's all about the uniform.

Bizarre Deaths Can Be Traced Back In Ancient History
Oh, how cruel and sarcastic and poetic is the executioner of Death. Just like that so-called founder of scientific inquiry Sir Francis Bacon, who died as a result of stuffing snow into a chicken he'd just killed for the purpose of a 'scientific' experiment. And while Attila The Hun may have savoured his moment vanquishing all of Asia, it was only to die of a nosebleed on that most special of days, the night of his wedding.

PRAVDA 10
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FILLMORE DISCOS 56

Noroi The Curse (*****)
as a big fan of the fake documentary shaky-cam horror genre, I'm not sure how I missed this; anyway, this Japanese film from 2005 is for me the best one yet - its two hour duration, so well paced, enacted, edited, and crafted, absolutely flies by as it hurtles towards the shocking climax of the final scenes

American: The Bill Hicks Story (**)
the worst thing about death is how all the parasites come out to feed on the sorry corpse: here we have Bill Hicks' parents, to help shore up their comfort in retirement, attempting a deeply hypocritical sanitised rehistoricisation of his brilliant but tragically short-lived career; a bunch of useless stand-up Houston and LA comics shamelessly revelling in the opportunity for some reflected glory; and documentary filmmakers far more focused on self-congratulation for their ludicrous annoying graphic flourishes than in keeping the viewer informed as to who's talking about what and when

Saw: The Final Chapter (*****)
a poor and pointless implementation of 3D, a couple of scenes that I sense have been gratuitously tacked on, and subpar casting for the new roles, are all irrelevant flaws; this latest edition is packed with tons of wonderfully gory new content with a subtle undercurrent of eroticism to the proceedings; there is also what amounts to a cameo role by the incredibly hot Tobin Bell, devastating in its impact, along with an even more badass than usual Betsy Russell, who is equally sexy; if only art installations were as good as the traps in Saw

The Loved Ones (**)
Robin McLeavy as the psycho-girl who doesn't take kindly to rejection by men is the best thing about this derivative Aussie horror, a film which starts promisingly before getting bogged down in a stupid chase narrative with utterly predictable results

Inception (*)
something for the big-budget special FX action-film popcorn brigaders to feel like they're intelligent - have you ever felt condescended by a dreadful script full of stoopid explanation and re-explanation?

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