‘A knowing homage to Debbie Does Dallas’: How to talk about porn like it’s cinema

PORNOGRAPHY is often criticised as if it has zero artistic value. If you’re a connoisseur, here’s how to talk about it as if you’re a serious cineaste: 

“A knowing homage to Debbie Does Dallas”

The handheld, shaky camerawork is a nod in the direction of the 1978 pseudo-documentary which forever changed the genre, showing the director is well aware of but not in thrall to his influences. Another reference is the cheerleader outfit, which in a wink to the past is worn without panties.

“Excellent use of Dutch angles”

To the uninitiated, it seems as if a GoPro has slipped off a pillow. However, the tilted Dutch angle is in fact a deliberate artistic choice, representing the disorientation and off-kilter energy of sexual arousal, a tension that will soon be released. Well, in about 18 minutes.

“The MacGuffin is incredibly clever”

With hindsight, it becomes apparent that the broken washing machine isn’t really important. The conceit is simply a mechanism for getting the well-endowed repair man into the lady’s flat and, ultimately, into her knickers. It’s an incredibly clever MacGuffin which represents economical storytelling as tautly as the French New Wave.

“The colour palette reflects the core themes”

The ignorant dismiss the harsh lighting as poor filmmaking. But the bright colour palette reflects one of the core themes of the piece. Those white sheets and pale bodies tell us that sex is the purest form of human activity. There’s a vulnerability, an innocence, to actors doing anal to pay the rent.

“The hyperrealistic sex scenes deliberately evoke a dreamlike state”

Absurdly large penises and breasts combine with extreme close-ups to create a fantastical, dreamlike atmosphere. It’s all incredibly detailed and yet somehow lacks a fundamental truth: a hyperreality that blurs the boundaries between authenticity and what Baudrillard called the simulation.

“A feminist masterpiece”

This bukkake short is reminiscent of the 1975 classic Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles. The static camera, the multiple partners, the fact that the sole female protagonist doesn’t seem to be enjoying it very much. Arguably a feminist masterpiece.