The Future of NYC Porn!

I realize that Joanna's Angels (VCA; cover) has been out for a minute now, but I saw it for the first time last night (big Friday for Maldoro), and this being a blog and all--a porn watcher's diary, if you will--I figure it's fair game. So. Dear Diary: I sat down with a box of tissues (and not just because it's allergy season) but I gotta tell you--I didn't beat it. Watched the whole thing and never even took it out. Instead, I was thinking more about this alt-porn phenomenon, and its larger ramifications. The movie's shot in Williamsburg, and there's plenty of hipster reference points--Lit, lofts, Macs, tats, etc. But the people in the movie, Joanna Angel included, aren't cutting-edge hipster. They're dyed-hair punk when most chicks in Williamsburg these days are emulating Stevie Nicks (which I applaud, by the way). Is it their DIY ethos that has gotten the punky hipsters into porn? Is it, despite the movie's garbage anti-L.A. sub-theme, that all porn somehow relates back to California, where punk and rockabilly are still viable sub-cultures? (Rancid's on the movie's soundtrack.) Or has alt-porn become its own sub-culture, its particular look reaching back to Makeout Club and the goth-punk of the late '90s, when the whole thing emerged? I'm not by any means suggesting that alt-porn and Burning Angel aren't cool (or for that matter, hot), but I wouldn't mind seeing the Stevie Nicks wanna-be's on camera as well.

In fact, forget Williamsburg. This city's full of neighborhood-identified hotties. Think of all the possibilities for the enterprising NYC micro-genre pornographer: Greenpoint Polish; Park Slope MILFs; Uptown socialites; Columbia/NYU/etc. students; outer-borough illegal immigrants (they're hot these days); downtown bankers; K-town talent; happy ending massage technicians of Chinatown; the chicks who wear sexy costumes and come to the Village on Halloween; bridge-and-tunnellers on the L.E.S.; NYSC/Crunch/etc. gym rats; Manhattan trophy wives--I could go on.

Still, I'm into the women of Joanna's Angels: new to the small-screen Kylee Kross (pic) and Sabrina Sparx (pic), L.A. star Katrina Kraven (pic), and of course, Joanna Angel herself, who gets DP'ed and throws up a little when the handsome James Deen shoves his dick down her throat. These scenes throw off sparks because they're ever so slightly amateurish. Joanna, who directs with an outsider's openess, is also an interesting actress, all alt-ness aside. She antsy and full of animal sounds; there's something particularly dirty about her wild-eyed eagerness. (Beware: pat conclusion ahead.) And that may be the most alternative thing about her.


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