Welcome to Pornotopia (ASK ANY BUDDY, 2018)
ASK ANY BUDDY is a trippy journey through the unfiltered sexual id of queer men and the grainy digital remnants of the world they built for themselves, a world that could never truly exist.
“ ‘The line between the impossible and possible is really complete [...] But with science-fiction, there’s hypertechnology that can change barriers and break them. With fantasy, you can use magic to change aspects of a story. But I think what’s important when using elements of sci-fi or fantasy is to not just have elements of S&M, but to create worlds of S&M, so the entire universe behaves in this realm.’ All pornography, Tagame asserted, is utopic.” - Graham Kolbeins, Gengoroh Tagame’s S&M Universe
Have you ever heard of pornotopia? It’s a term for the imaginary world in which all pornography takes place, where the laws of natural order are suspended in the name of whatever gets the viewer off. Gengoroh Tagame is an artist whose brutal depictions of homoerotic sadomasochism have earned him international acclaim. His stories explore the limits of kink and degradation through the lenses of various genres, ranging from historical comedy to body horror. Whether a human body could survive what Tagame imagines for it is besides the point. He has a pornotopic license to push the limits, and so he does.
The idea of pornography as utopian literature fascinates me. A pornotopia would be some people’s idea of hell, sure, but it could be a heaven for specific kinds of souls who can find no rest in any other plane. A world where the things people are ashamed to whisper in the dark happen in broad daylight. A liminal space, sealed shut at the end of every fantasy, ready to bloom back into existence at the hiss of a VHS.
What would it be like if pornotopia was real? What would it be like to spend a day there for yourself?
I found this question unexpectedly answered when I was lucky enough to catch ASK ANY BUDDY at the Music Box. I make it a point to go to everything Elizabeth Purchell programs there, and I have never been disappointed. Her programming and curation has been invaluable to me as I have learned more about queer art and cinema, and her Letterboxd account is also infallible. She just knows what makes a movie worth watching to a pervert like myself.
ASK ANY BUDDY is focused on a particular era of pornotopic civilization’s damp and expansive history: the boom period of gay adult films. It is a found footage opus that Purchell remixed from 126 individual films, representing roughly two decades of pornography. Much of the footage Purchell used is from her own archival collection and was digitized for inclusion in this project. The result is a trippy journey through the unfiltered sexual id of queer men and the grainy digital remnants of the world they built for themselves, a world that could never truly exist. (As Tagame would reassure us: that’s the point.)
The exploration of ASK ANY BUDDY’s pornotopia occurs in a rough chronological order. We follow a nameless viewpoint character through a day in his life and since he lives in pornotopia, his life involves a dizzying array of fucking. Sex is an indelible part of the social fabric of pornotopia, and all other pursuits are secondary.
We travel from a construction site where buff dudes rail each other on their lunch break to a public bathroom where a friendly stranger can tell you which stall has the best action. The edit casually passes us from one cruising landmark to another, lingering in movie theaters and below docks. At one point somebody is late for work because there are too many dudes being blown in his stairwell, which he treats as a minor irritation. ASK ANY BUDDY feels a bit like a JOHN WICK sequel where every person in the universe is a horny hung dude with a mustache instead of an assassin.
The sex is fun and hot, but the edit pushes towards a broader purpose. It refutes the idea that this pornography is not of cultural and historical importance; where else can you casually source real candid footage of the first gay liberation marches, or a visual demonstration of cruising on a subway train in the 1970s? Because the films were made on a shoestring budget, they were shot on location out of necessity. The result is both artificial and startlingly real. It is not a documentary, but it gives you a glimpse of something underneath the sterile media history lessons that begin and end at Stonewall.
And even though it is a movie that features a studded leather can of Crisco, the end result feels tender. Don’t misunderstand me: this is a lot of hardcore pornography, where you’ll see people fucked in every way you can imagine. But you will also see gay men in that era living everyday lives; waking up in the same bed, brushing their teeth together, teasing each other about hookups. You’ll see them partying without shame, enjoying their bodies in a world built for sex, celebrating the freedom and release of an unbridled fuck.
(Listen: representation is whatever, but I'm tired of queerness being a cinema trope that evokes tragedy. The only thing that feels truly transgressive about ASK ANY BUDDY is its insistence that a world must exist where queer people can flourish and make art and fuck without being punished for it.)
Towards the end of ASK ANY BUDDY, there’s a scene where a man is threatened by a homophobe who calls him a cocksucker. He responds; “The only thing I like more than sucking cock is kicking ass.” He then proceeds to do at least one of those things. If that moment could be put on a flag, it is the only flag I would ever salute.
If you get the chance to see ASK ANY BUDDY in a theater, I strongly recommend you do so, but it's worth seeing no matter how you come across it. I promise you have never seen anything like it.