'Pleasure (2021)' isn't exactly an enjoyable experience, and the irony of its title doesn't seem lost on writer-director Ninja Thyberg. This frank and unapologetic exploration of the Los Angeles porn industry almost feels like an exposé at times, with its naturalistic presentation granting it a fly-on-the-wall feel which makes its more shocking moments all the more upsetting. Indeed, there are a few scenes which are incredibly difficult to watch. The most notable of these is the filming of a rough and degrading three-way scene which our protagonist continues to consent to only because she has no other option - which, of course, means she doesn't consent at all. It stands in stark contrast to a similar scene shown just minutes earlier, the shooting of which has its star surrounded by people who make sure she's comfortable and genuinely feel as though they're concerned for her safety (it's no accident that a lot of these people are women). The picture constantly presents this push-pull between how the porn industry ought to work and how it actually does, remaining relatively neutral to the concept but condemning its execution. Having said that, the overwhelming feeling that this picture provokes is undeniably icky. If porn is something you're into, I can see this actually putting you off. Whether or not that is its intention is unclear, especially considering that the flick does go out of its way to include both the good and the bad parts of its protagonist's journey. Perhaps its goal is to be as realistic as possible, not necessarily impartial but not forceful in its implied assertions. I suppose this is how it manages to be both empathetic and non-judgemental towards the women who seek a career in porn and unsympathetic towards the men who take advantage of them. Though the feature isn't especially entertaining in the traditional sense (it certainly isn't fun), it's a consistently challenging and compelling affair that manages to be explicit enough to feel as though it's doing its taboo subject justice (and to be genuinely shocking at times) but not so explicit as to feel as though it's overly gratuitous or insensitive. Sofia Kappel delivers a bold, bracing debut performance (apparently, auditioning for the film was a way to push her out of her comfort zone) and the rest of its cast - which is mostly comprised of current or former porn performers, producers and directors - is surprisingly good, too. The flick doesn't feel exploitative at all, taking a fairly feminist approach to its material and always feeling like it has something to say. Everything we see is necessary in telling this tale, which is rare even for something that isn't dealing with a potentially tricky topic. It's funny how nobody blinks an eye when seeing someone's head get blown off in a movie, but almost everyone feels at least a little uncomfortable when someone takes their clothes off and starts having sex. This piece almost strives to make you uncomfortable because it wants you to face the realities of a pretty shady business. The interesting thing about it, though, is that it isn't the sex itself that gets under your skin. Sexual violence is presented as truly disgusting and upsetting, as it should be, but it's also presented as insidious and pervasive. It isn't something that just happens, it's something that's enabled and justified by those with the power to do so. It works its way into every industry one way or another, so it's naturally present in an industry that concerns itself almost solely with sex. The thing is, though, it shouldn't be. Sex work is work and everyone deserves to be and feel safe in their workplace. Tangent aside, this is a strong movie that's as engaging as it is off-putting. If you can handle it, it's worth a watch.
