Pleasure (Ninja Thyberg, 2021) (Patreon)

Sometimes we want to explore the messiness of complex situations, the way that not every action, decision, or emotion falls in line with social or political orthodoxy. But that's not always possible. It can be very difficult to address certain hot-button topics, and there can often be a sense that if we don't make our position crystal clear -- insusceptible to misunderstanding, carefully controlled to accommodate any likely objections -- we are opening ourselves to criticism, if not outright attack. 

I'm not talking about "cancel culture." What I'm referring to has more to do with the category within classical Greek rhetoric known as kairos. Not as clear-cut as the well-known triad of logos (logic), ethos (shared values), and pathos (emotional appeal), kairos has to do with the timeliness of a particular argument. That is, given the present state of "the discourse," is this the best argument to make right now? Will it be comprehensible within the current rhetoric, or widely mischaracterized? Might it in fact give aid and comfort to the enemy?

A good example of this problem is the current understanding of sexual orientation. There has been a widely accepted understanding among pro-queer factions that the best way to achieve equal rights is to claim that non-heterosexual orientations are hard-wired, and not some sort of choice. This aligns sexuality with race and sex, as categories which are largely immutable ("suspect classes") and must therefore be protected from discrimination. By contrast, right-wing orthodoxy claims that sexual orientation is a "choice," one that queer folks could, and should, simply not make.

The problem with this should be apparent. It offers a very narrow Overton Window with regard to sexuality and desire. Many, but not all queer people have experienced their orientation as a fact from early on, sometimes before puberty. But others have experienced sexual desire in more fluid ways, or have experienced an evolution in their desires that pushes them beyond traditional categories. This shouldn't be surprising, since sexual desire is a notoriously slippery aspect of human existence. But we live in a social structure that aims to legislate sexual identity, and so it is politically imperative that those identities be as coherent as possible. And honestly, the fact that our desires must conform to available cultural or political narratives is a sign that the right-wing has already effectively won.

So, Pleasure? Yes, I was just coming to that.

First-time director Ninja Thyberg opens her film with a fairly obvious statement of purpose. Wannabe porn star "Bella Cherry" (Sofia Kappel) arrives in L.A. from Sweden, and at the LAX customs desk the officer asks her about the nature of her trip. "Business or pleasure?" After half a beat, Bella replies "pleasure." Thyberg sets up a dichotomy in order to thwart it. "Pleasure" is the business that Bella hopes to break into, and since pornography equals the commodification of sexual pleasure, it will be subject to all the rules of the marketplace, which are dirtier than any given act Bella might be expected to perform.

Thyberg's film certainly approaches the L.A. porn industry in a frank and, yes, explicit way, but Pleasure seems to ask us to confuse this explicitness with harsh realism. It becomes evident that the only way Bella can break out of the entry-level performers' tier is to take on increasingly violent and degrading shoots, doing things that we soon see she is not emotionally prepared to do. But Thyberg's narrative arc suggests that this is the obvious, unavoidable trajectory for porn starlets, and by extension that pornography itself is merely commodified sexual violence.

While I don't mean to suggest that the porn industry doesn't chew up and spit out countless young women and men, it's worth noting that Bella's path to infamy is but one option. There are more feminist and queer-positive pornography collectives now than at any other time in porn's long history (although a lot of that counter-industry is centered in San Francisco, not L.A.). But this is beside the point for Pleasure. Bella wants to be a huge star, and we share her dazzlement at the large, gaudy mansions owned by mainstream porno bigwigs like Mark Spiegler and Axel Braun. (Note: aside from newcomer Kappel, almost all of the cast are actual participants in the porn industry.) She wants to live in her own gaudy mansion. Nothing else will do.

We learn so little about Bella's interior life that we really have no idea why she wants this kind of success and no other. But that's because Bella is essentially a trope, the somewhat innocent ingenue who gets crushed by the Business, in order to demonstrate the film's pre-formulated thesis: porn is hell. Pleasure has particular moments when Thyberg displays this thesis with bracing clarity. The second violent shoot, when Bella is initially told she doesn't have to do anything she doesn't want to do, is particularly telling. Tag-team douchebags Mike (Jason Toler) and Brian (John Strong) explain to Bella when she wants to stop that yes, she can walk away. But she will not be paid, she will have ruined an entire day's shoot, and she will be branded as a quitter throughout the porn world. The men's bullying tactics are identical to those that a date-rapist might use to convince their date that putting out was, in fact, their idea.

The final sex scene in Pleasure, between Bella and a competitor, Ava (Evelyn Claire), is where (forgive the pun) Thyberg drives her thesis home. An unexpected change in plans means Bella will fuck Ava with a dildo, and as the scene progresses, we see the "real" Bella emerge. Whereas she thought she was meant to be a pretty little sub, she discovers her inner dom and experiences the only "pleasure" seen in the entire film. In short, Bella subjects Ava to the exact same kinds of degradation she endured during the earlier shoot, simultaneously making two irrefutable points. One, Bella has "arrived," now embodying the cruel logic of the industry. Two, camaraderie between workers and/or women will always give way to horizontal violence.

In these respects, it is hardly coincidental that Bella hails from Sweden. In the credits, Thyberg lists Ruben Östlund as "mentor to the director." And like Östlund's satires, Pleasure uses rhetorical figures in place of characters, in order to make a Point. Bella comes from a middle-class Scandinavian background, and so as far as we can see she harbors liberal views on sex and pornography. But it's this liberalism that always bites these folks in the ass, as they reveal their hidden viciousness when push comes to shove. This was the case in Play, Force Majeure, and The Square, and indeed, it is the case in Pleasure as well. 

It's hard to completely fault a film that is so adept in accomplishing exactly what it sets out to do. But it's also hard to fully embrace it as a work of art.