TRISTAN Taormino has received a lot of fan mail for her pornographic films – and for one scene in particular.
”People love the bit where the guy goes, ‘I’m not ready for that [sex toy], let’s pick the smaller one instead’,” Taormino says. ”In my movies, the characters don’t all just know what to do because that’s not how sex works in real life. I love showing lots of talking and negotiation.”
One of the best-known US sex educators, Taormino is in Melbourne this week to host a talk about her work and a seminar on open relationships. As a self-described ”feminist pornographer”, she’s also here to promote her craft and counter some misconceptions. ”These anti-porn feminists who say that 99 per cent of porn is violent and misogynist … clearly, they haven’t watched enough porn,” she says. ”I’m not denying that stuff is out there but to claim it represents the entire industry is a lie.”
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Melbourne, she adds, has a reputation among her peers as ”a hotbed of radical sexuality”. Thanks to the efforts of local women such as Gala Vanting, Anna Brownfield and Liandra Dahl, it’s also considered a leader in ”feminist porn”.
Yet this term confuses many. Some wrongly assume that ”feminist” means an absence of male performers; others imagine that films made by women involve endless dialogue and soft-core sex scenes.
In fact, the films of Taormino and her Melbourne counterparts are highly explicit. What distinguishes them from mainstream erotica is their ”sex positive” ethos and alternative depictions of female sexuality.
”I embrace the idea that what you already are is sexy,” says Vanting, whose work appears on local self-portrait website ishotmyself.com and beautifulagony.com, in which users submit videos of their faces as they orgasm. The site has had 5 million unique visitors since launching in 2003. ”Mainstream porn presents a very narrow range of body types and sexualities,” Vanting adds. ”We’re much more ‘come as you are’.”
Anna Brownfield of Poison Apple Productions says her films – including the upcoming Screwed in Suburbia and 2009’s The Band – are a reaction to the ”homogenised, silicone-breast, Barbie-doll look of mainstream porn where everyone is waxed to within an inch of pre-pubescence.”
In The Band, filmed partly at the Tote Hotel in Collingwood, the camera lingers on the men as much the women, both of whom come in all shapes and sizes. It has a storyline. Condoms and lubrication feature prominently. There are no vacant eyes or theatrical fake orgasms; no passive women being overpowered by steroidal men. No one contorts into uncomfortable positions for the sake of a graphic close-up. Everyone, it appears, is genuinely enjoying themselves.
Such films can be instructive and educational, says sex therapist and educator Cyndi Darnell, who convenes a monthly forum called the Pleasure Salon. The event, which she describes as ”a bit like book club but we talk about sex”, started one year ago and has grown rapidly.
The Pleasure Salon is hosting Taormino and has also featured Vanting and Dahl. While not a big consumer of pornography herself, Darnell champions their work. ”We live in such a sex-negative society,” she says.
”Of course, some porn is unpleasant or just plain boring, but women like Tristan and Gala are making a concerted effort to change all that. They should be applauded.”
Taormino says her films challenge the harmful messages of mainstream porn – and more importantly, the pernicious depictions of female sexuality in books, movies and TV. Most romantic films, she points out, feature women who ”hold out” until their male love interest proffers the requisite amount of gifts and dates. Those who pursue sex, in contrast, tend to get their ”comeuppance” in the form of an unwanted pregnancy or a grisly fate.
”Until we get out of this narrative, we can’t have women who are fully sexually empowered,” Taormino says. ”But while I try to achieve that with my porn, I don’t need everyone to engage with it intellectually. Pleasure for pleasure’s sake is great and if that’s how you want to use it, I say ‘fantastic’.”
Source The Age
