Campus & CityFilm

Quad Blog

The Price of Pleasure: Documentary Screening Bares More than Skin

By | Feb 24th, 2010

By Stephen Maouyo with help from Elisa Gill

Porn: The four-letter word that has ceased to be one within the past 25 years. With that in mind, this past Monday night, the Boston University Women’s Resource Center, in collaboration with BU juniors Eunice Ko and Amanda Ward, hosted a screening of “Porn: The Price of Pleasure,” a documentary about the porn industry. The screening, attended by about 130 people, was accompanied by a panel discussion moderated by Megan Andelloux, an ACS registered sexologist, a screening of “female-positive pornography” (which is difficult to define, but is by one definition porn that depicts consensual sex between REAL people) and a talk by Princess Kali, a dominatrix with 10+ years of experience in the adult entertainment industry.

Now, I’m sure most of us are familiar with mainstream pornography. I first came across porn in 4th grade, while trying to figure out what my orthodontic work the next day would entail. Who knew that asking Jeeves what a palate-spreader was would lead immediately to a sex-doll website? But despite our familiarity with porn, how cognizant are we of its more alarming statistics? For instance, the documentary (which, without a doubt had an anti-porn bias),  reported that a random selection of 304 scenes from the most-rented pornographic films of 2005 yielded that 89.8% of them had instances of aggression and 94.4% of that aggression was directed toward women. Startled? Or how about the film’s report that “respectable” corporations such as Time Warner and CBS have their hands in the estimated 10-14 billion dollars of annual revenue (more than the NFL, NBA, and MLB combined) that pornography produces. Oh, and The Free Speech Coalition, that wonderful organization working to protect your 1st Amendment right by buying votes in Congress, was founded by the porn industry in 1991 to protect themselves. Sobering, huh?

Fraught with similarly themed facts (and wonderful commentary from porn consumers and directors: “Why on her face?” “Because she is so beautiful. It’s like a dog marking its territory”), it was hard to walk away from the documentary with anything but disgust for mainstream pornography. However, what comes out in the wash is that pleasure is personal. With complete exclusion to child pornography, of course, if you like it, and all parties are consenting, feel free to it. So what’s the problem with pornography? We can’t assume that no one likes a little aggression in the bedroom, and we can’t regulate preferences what bodily fluids go where during a sexual act. The problem with porn is this: it now dictates what pleasure involves. In foisting upon us depictions of sex that commonly involve men in dominant, violently abusive roles, pornography asserts and popularizes particular notions of what sex entails. Your pleasure is your (and perhaps your partner’s) business. Not that of a billion-dollar corporation with suggestions. And this self-perpetuating cycle between society and business (and not only the porn business), between the personal and the profitable, always pushing the boundaries of what is not just acceptable but expected, is one that is, quite frankly, horrifying.

Note: The authors would like to clarify a few things. The use of “real” to describe female positive porn was used, albeit somewhat offensively, to describe actors and actresses that have not undergone cosmetic surgery. Also, the website that first exposed Mr. Maouyo to pornography was, in fact, dedicated to sex dolls, not human actors and actresses.

Overall, the authors would like to make clear that they are not inherently anti-porn, however the statistics presented in the film left them concerned that so many films depict controlling, violent men, and women who receive pleasure from being controlled and handled violently. They recognize and accept the sexual preferences of individuals (including interests in BDSM and role-playing), but also realize that the regular occurrence and normalization of violence in films could alter what viewers expect in their personal lives. They were and remain unopposed to the existence of pornography, and the mere existence of violent sexual acts in pornography. The film’s statistics worried them, however, because they claimed that the majority of porn depicts aggression (89.8%) and that almost all of said aggression is towards women (94.4%). Additionally, they realize that these phenomena are inextricable from the complex relationship between the pornography industry and other influencing sectors of society (including the preferences of individuals), and that the ramifications of capitalism provide additional complications. The film did not inspire them to oppose pornography in total, but realize its role as both an effect and a cause of current societal expectations.