Four Chambers

There's something so special about adult films pre internet digitization, VHS tapes copied and circulated in your community, mailing lists and screening parties and brown paper bags were the distribution model. The intimate privacy of a time capsule contained in a black plastic film cartridge, hidden in the back of a drawer, labelled as something inconspicuous so as not to arouse suspicion - hidden treasure.

The act of penetration at its core is invasion, sometimes intensely and acutely desired and begged for and sometimes more complex. The sensation is intense and can be entirely changeable depending on the context in which the act takes place. This film is about invading and consuming. The monotonous, sterile mechanics of the fuck machine is hypnotic, the unwavering noise and repetition of movement that’s entirely oblivious to desire or want. It continues to thrust and fuck regardless.

To get into the mess and fuck in the wreckage. To give over to pure physical sensation and stare into the void of atrocity, oblivion. The body as machine - like a crashed car - of both powerful possibility and freedom and impotent, crumpled failure. Pain and pleasure heightened by the tension pulling at our own survival instinct.

The act of giving up control; devotion and subjugation. Dual states of purity and sin. The ritual of transcendence. The undertones of tension that are imbued in repression and reverence.

Softness and wetness and opening yourself up. About consuming and feeding, being merged and joined. One consuming the other, both folding into each other, temporarily one.

Connection through shattered mirrors, black paint, candles, and cold cement

Adjoining mouths find connection within each other... and a popsicle

How are we consumed through one screen and fed back through to another. Shot using an iMac, a Macbook, Skype, the TV, an iPad, and an iPhone, or as the director puts it, "all the consumerism."

A muted record of beginnings

Porn aesthetics and archetypes are fascinating, sex on film has always been innovative, at the forefront of pushing technology and creativity. Being pushed to the margins means you’re forced to make new rules and create your own visions, processes and traditions. Porn world developed its own visual language, signs and semiotics.

A forced perspective through lips

Tender kisses, sharp nails, and desire laid out in a bed of flowers

You're getting fucked without even knowing. Fucked behind your back. Fucked in the shadow of your absence.

Sleep is such a vulnerable state, it requires a complete letting go of control. Slipping out of waking consciousness into another world. A world controlled by an unpredictable subconscious that loves to play tricks on you. Watching someone fall asleep is to see them move through different states of being, exposed and unaware.

Jealousy is a visceral emotion. Being driven to distraction and loss of control is akin to slipping down the rabbit hole, a descent into hell. Safety morphs into paranoia. Perception of reality becomes unfixed. Full collapse. Desperation can become an intense crucible for obsessive desire.

Abjection is a complicated, multifaceted concept that this person is going to do a much better job of beginning to explain than me. It explores how we define ourselves as living and where that border is. Things that are abject exist on that border; hair, menstrual blood, shit, fur skins and ultimately, corpses. Demarcating what is alive and what is not.

Highlighting the intricacies lost in convention between two people focused solely in themselves.

Red light scatters across sparkled skin as a pair of eyes lure you closer to the screen

Why do we like to be called Mommy? The archetype of mother looms over us across cultures, it’s powerful and ubiquitous so it’s unsurprising that it can show up in our sexual psyches.

Our bodies are conduits, sex is transference of energy. Eyes, mouths and orifices become blackholes against glittering skin, fluids dark against phosphorescence. Reflecting each other. Elemental fusion.