in America, everyone's a gynecologist

Pleasure (2021) 
Directed by Ninja Thyberg
Gore Capitalism Series #7

We depart from the ambiguity of Mati Diop’s Atlantics and Lee Chang-dong’s Burning to something far more direct in Ninja Thyberg’s Pleasure. A deconstruction of the modern American porn industry, Pleasure frequently recalls similar-minded films like Paul Thomas Anderson’s Boogie Nights and Paul Verhoeven’s Showgirls. While never achieving the totemic vitality of either movie (both of those aforementioned films are among my favorites of the 1990s, particularly the latter), Thyberg’s film registers as a much-needed update, taking into account the ubiquity of porn that’s at our fingertips, distributed as 30-second clips into the lives of men and women looking to sell the fantasy of their bodies for a few dollars at a time. 

Thyberg’s film centers on Swedish expat Bella (Sofia Kappel) as she begins her journey as a porn star in Los Angeles. It’s her first scene and we observe the minutiae of pre-production, where Bella consents to the act, holding up her driver’s license and STD test while acknowledging a producer’s iPhone as he records the transaction. It’s an odd act, one that impossibly seems both progressive and antiquated at the same time. After some reservations, Bella proceeds with the scene, and seemingly finds herself enjoying the moment; following the requisite cumshot, she asks not for a towel but her phone, as she takes selfies. It’s all about making $$$. 

Pleasure develops a pattern wherein we observe the porn industry promoting ethical standards of work (a BDSM/shibari sequence facilitated largely by women is handled with the utmost care to Bella’s concerns) and dangerous work conditions, in what are some of the film’s most unsettling sequences. Bella’s attempts to get signed by a more prestigious agent forces her to embark on more hardcore scenes, and one of those scenes involves a triad of men that violently assault her. It operates in stark contrast to the other sequences of the film, in what’s clearly an amateur production. While setting boundaries at the onset is clearly established in the aforementioned BDSM sequence, no such dialogue is even suggested in this new hardcore threesome scene. And when Bella attempts to renege on her participation in the production, she’s met with hostility; hostility that’s rooted in what all four people in the room are angling for: more $$$. 

Noted as the first of three body horror films in this Gore Lecture Series, I can’t think of a more apt or unpleasant film to examine Sayak Valencia’s theories. The distinct hierarchy established within the film between amateurs and professionals is staggering, and reminiscent of the legitimacy afforded to Mexican cartels that operate with profound efficiency (as seen in Natalia López’s Robe of Gems). When Valencia suggests that “everything is reduced to profit, business, and capital, nothing more,” we see it reflected clearly in Bella’s attempts to become upwardly mobile within the industry; when calling a prospective agent, all that matters is her social media following, video view counts, etc. Legitimacy through data. But fundamentally, it’s the sense of the body losing its autonomy that’s most horrifying, “bodies are commodities that are continually incapable of managing their own autonomy because they are denied that autonomy at birth or because it has been robbed from them.” Following her assault, Bella calls her mother in Sweden to discuss returning home. Her mother is under the impression that she’s doing an internship abroad and is aloof to the reality of Bella’s situation. But through the conversation we gather the impression that Bella’s misanthropy and abject loneliness has followed her from home. Was it a lack of autonomy at home that caused her to indulge in this kind of quote unquote hedonism? It’s hard to tell but the suggestions are there. 

The film’s final act serves to underscore how ingrained the industry's patriarchal standards are in maintaining a status quo. The bond Bella has with her flatmate is reduced to nothing if it serves to compromise her upward ascent in the industry, in a sequence that recalls Showgirls by way of All About Eve. Bella’s full embrace of the patriarchal standard comes when she dons a strap-on, exercising her inherited symbol of masculinity to dominate the film’s most lauded and feminine porn star. Is it a touch obvious? Positively. But the discomforting effect remains palpable.