A look at Toronto’s feminist porn movement

Crude, unnecessary, exploitive, sad. Artistic, relevant, liberating, beautiful.

All of these words and more have been used over the years to describe the multitude of genres and subgenres that make up the pornographic industry. There are many different groups of people who speak out against adult entertainment. Religious and social organizations, and parental groups and gender rights activists have all weighed in with a series of opinions as to why they are against it.

For the people on the other side of the fence, however,  filmed sex acts are nothing to be bothered about, after all they are two consenting adults who are likely earning a paycheck from allowing themselves to be  filmed for other consenting adults to view for their own personal reasons. Issues of underage consumption and the effect that porn may have on people’s perceptions of sex are all commonly raised concerns, but the industry has existed since the dawn of the camera (and arguably long before) and is not going anywhere anytime soon.

In the past year, one particular issue has become more visible than ever before. One that is arguably more dangerous than any risk to the viewer, the effect that it can have on those actually performing the acts, and the way that society perceives them. The differing fortunes of exposed adult  lm performers Miriam Weeks (a.k.a. Belle Knox, the Duke University porn star made famous in February), and University of Wisconsin student Alyssa Funke (who committed suicide in May) have thrown into light the negative stigma that still surround these performers, and the potentially damaging effects it can have on them.

While the fortunes of these two girl turned out wildly differently, they shared one important commonality, they both became involved in the porn industry for the money, a sentiment shared by Toronto based performer Lydia Grace. “I got started because I thought it would quick and easy money, it wasn’t something I thought I’d be doing a year later.”

Grace has been a webcam performer for just over a year and contrary to what people would think, has found the entire experience to be extremely fullfilling and a bit of an adventure. “I’ve been able to interact with a lot of interesting people,” she said about what is keeping her in the industry. “It didn’t take me too long to discover that not everybody on the other side of the camera wants to simply see you naked.”

Concerning the attitudes toward adult performers, Lydia considers herself to be among the lucky ones. “It’s there, but I’ve had very little of it a ect me personally, I’ve managed to surround myself with people who are very open minded, and some of my friends are doing similar work.”

The negative interactions have been few and far between and in regards to the few who have been rude to her she hasn’t let it bug her. “They’re not important, and they don’t actually know much about me so I don’t think it’s a huge deal. Everyone is really considerate and kind. They rarely bring it up anymore, which has saved me at a few family gatherings.”

“No they don’t know,” she laughed. “I’m not exactly keeping it a secret though, probably only my grandmother would be upset if she found out, but she’s totally computer illiterate so I think I’m safe on that one.”

Having recently begun to dabble in Toronto’s adult  lm scene, Lydia and the people she works with have been looking at alternative methods to the more traditional pornographic fare, or as she puts it, “some beefy dude drilling a tiny, unhappy looking girl making really fake sounds.”

Dubbing it “feminist porn,” the company she works for  films porn that avoids the clichés and negative connotations that are associated with the industry.

“I know feminism and porn don’t usually go hand-in-hand, due to the way that women are portrayed in it. [We’re] offering  lms that focus on the female being pleasured just as much as the man, so it comes across as a far more natural approach.” Not content with just changing the way it is shot, but the performers in these  films are also different than what is usually seen. “We cast any sort of people in our  films, we look for different body shapes, people of colour, LGBT or just unique, average-looking men and women. It allows us to better represent who people really are, and hopefully make porn more appealing to those who are uncomfortable with what they have seen before.”

The movement has been generally well received by the feminist community in the city, for the most part. “Obviously some of your more, let’s say radical feminists are still against porn in any way, but otherwise Toronto is really the home of the movement, hosting a yearly conference and award ceremony for the people involved in the genre.” It’s also a growing one, as some of the  filmmakers she has worked with have been brought on board to some of the more mainstream local companies, in an effort to bring the feminist approach to a wider audience.

While Grace has found her entry into to adult  film world to be fairly easy and welcoming, she still urges caution for anyone, male or female, who is considering it as a possible career move. “It’s a massive choice, and not one that should be taken lightly, I know it’s been going pretty well for me but there are still a ton of risks involved.”

She cautions to make sure that it’s what you want to do, because once one thing is made, it can’t be undone. “For anyone who seriously wants to pursue it, be careful as to what sort of company you are going to be working for, and what their reputation is. Also remember that these sorts of things have to potential to impact something like a future career, depending on you  field.” Otherwise, she believes that as long as you can surround yourself with supportive people, any backlash will just blow right off.

“Just be nice to [women like Alyssa Funke], anyone who you even think might be involved. It can be a hard business and ultimately we just want to end the stigma around it so it can be more enjoyable for everyone.”