OAKLAND, Calif. – In reading about the “Political As F**k” erotic film festival happening in the Bay Area this week, I found myself drawing connections between what seem like disparate and contrary motions within the broad, splintered entity commonly referred to as the porn industry.
On the one hand, it seems like there’d be almost nothing in common to be found between the works of queer, feminist porn director Andre Shakti and a more “traditional” porn auteur hailing from the gonzo-centric mainstream of hardcore porn — like Jules Jordan, for example.
There’s no thematic or aesthetic comparison to be made between the two, and they obviously come at their craft from two very different places. I haven’t asked either of them, but my hunch is neither is a fan of the other’s work.
So, what on earth do I see connecting these two very different pornographers, who make two very different types of porn?
Both Shakti and Jordan love and believe in what they do, and this love for their craft shows in their work. For lack of a better word, what they share is authenticity; they make what they know and what turns them on.
I didn’t realize it when I started typing up the notions that became this column, but Shakti even references authenticity in her bio, placing it at the top of the list of traits that define her approach to porn.
“I have a uniquely authentic, educational, personal approach to the XXX content I shoot,” Shakti relates in her bio. “Simply put, I don’t film content that doesn’t genuinely turn me on, and I’m out to re-eroticize acts and experiences that are traditionally taboo in today’s industry.”
As he has mentioned in several interviews, Jordan got his start in the adult industry working as a clerk in a video store — although it’s probably more accurate to say he got his start as a porn consumer, because that’s where his passion for the form took root.
“I was really into porn and thought they’d never hire me because I was such a frequent customer,” Jordan said of his first porn job. “But I got the job and just saved my money and hustled.”
Whether you like the work of either Shakti or Jordan isn’t the point; the point is they like it, and the fact they’re into their own work makes connecting with an audience more likely. It also doesn’t matter whether you like them as people. I don’t happen to know either of them. My observations here are all about what they put on the screen, not how they conduct themselves off-screen.
Porn authenticity isn’t something I started thinking about because of either Shakti or Jordan. It was planted in my mind almost 20 years ago while I was sitting in the audience at a trade show seminar about content production.
About an hour into the seminar, one of the directors on the panel broke down the secret to his success in the simplest possible terms.
“I just do what I know,” he said with a shrug.
“My thing is girls with nice, big, natural boobs,” he said. “So, all I make is porn that features girls with nice, big, natural boobs. It’s not rocket science. If you do what you know, then you’re more likely to get it right — and viewers will know you’ve gotten it right, because it’s their thing, too.”
There was a corollary to his point, of course: Not doing what you like (or worse, not knowing what you like) is a recipe for making mediocre porn.
“If you don’t know what you like…,” he said, letting the idea hang in the air for a moment. “Well, what can I say? Go back to your hotel room after this seminar, rub one out and figure that shit out quick. Because if you don’t figure it out, you’ll never make good porn, no matter how good you are with the camera.”
When I say authenticity in a porn context, it’s important to understand it’s not a synonym for “realistic.” Making authentic porn doesn’t mean making a realistic depiction of sex; it simply means being true to your own vision of what turns you on.
To me, the lack of authenticity is what has rendered a lot of porn made in the past 20 years lifeless and lackluster. For years, numerous studios and producers were focused on checking all the boxes, so to speak, when it came to niche marketing. “MILFs are hot right now. We need a MILF site,” they’d say to themselves.
That was all well and good, but unless the producers of the niche content understood and/or were legitimately excited by the niche category in question, what you got was niche porn by the numbers. It’s the difference between authentic niche porn and niche porn by the numbers is the difference between legit BDSM content featuring people who truly live BDSM, and some director just dressing up a couple of porn performers in leather and calling them Mistress Fugazi and Slave Boy Johnny.
As the porn industry becomes increasingly decentralized and democratized, and as legitimate DIY amateur porn becomes easier and easier to find, I believe porn-authenticity is going to be increasingly crucial to the business survival of each producer, studio, director, company and performer.
The peak days of per-unit profitability are likely far behind the industry now, even as the global audience for porn continues to grow — a function of the ubiquity of free porn. To break through the background noise and establish a paying audience, creators are going to need to do something to stand out — by which I don’t mean absurd publicity stunts or upping the ante in terms of depicting “extreme” sex acts.
Whatever else you do to make your porn stand out from the crowd, embracing authenticity needs to be central to your strategy. The good news is, being authentic with your porn is easy: Just do what you know.
Image © Olga Fesko.
