“Sado Machismo” is an essay written by Edmund White and published in New Times, 8 January 1979, reprinted in the collection The Burning Library (Knopf, 1994)
White wrote this at a very different time: Not even ten years after Stonewall, before Cruising and definitely before HIV. The collection notes this essay was “… published during the height of Anita Bryant’s anti-homosexual campaign in Florida and in the midst of the Briggs Amendment campaign in California.” Gays and lesbians fighting for their rights to work as teachers were in the news, but a certain kind of “queer chic” was in the air too.
Choke is a 2008 dark comedy based on a novel by Chuck Palahniuk, written and directed by Clark Gregg. Amazon
When I’ve asked leather guys whether they’d rather make it with a real Con Ed [repair] man or a lawyer who looks like one, the question baffles them. It lies outside the system of their fantasies. In their hearts they may know that the lawyer would be more adventurous and uninhibited lover, but their passion demands he at least appear to be a worker. White, Edmund. 1979 “Sado Machismo”, from The Burning Library: Essays , Knopf, New York, 1994
Victor Mancini (Sam Rockwell) is a recovering, self-described “sex addict”, who fakes choking in restaurants so that he can emotionally manipulate his rescuers, which is to pay for supporting his Alzheimer’s-afflicted mother Ida (Anjelica Huston). He also works as a Colonial American historical re-enactor, performing a sanitized version of historical times.
Tokyo Decadence is a 1992 Japanese drama film, directed by Ryu Murakami and starring Miho Nikaido. (All quotations are from the English subtitles.) Amazon
Ai (Japanese for “love”) is a 22-year-old professional submissive sex worker, adrift in 1990s Japan, lacking in direction.
Ai with client.
In the very first scene, Ai is tied up and naked. Her client tells her S&M is all about trust, but then blindfolds her despite her objections. He injects her with something, also apparently without her consent. (Drug use, both giving and receiving, is a recurring motif.)
In Ai’s scenes with her clients, she is awkward and passive, as if she wandered into a stage play and doesn’t know or understand the script. Clients impress their own ideas and archetypes upon her, more like a prop in their visions. Ai’s blank-ness may actually be an asset in her line of work, having little sense of self to interfere with her client’s fantasies.
The yakuza client has Ai pose in front of the skyscraper window.
The second client Ai sees, implicitly a Yakuza gangster, asks her about herself. She says:
Ai: I’ve discovered that I have no talent whatsoever.
After a scene with the gangster and his girlfriend, Ai pulls the bondage gear off and vigorously brushes her teeth. On her way out, the gangster overpays her and says to her:
Gangster: Don’t think you’ve no talent. That’s a cop-out.
Another client wants to be strangled by Ai and another escort while receiving oral. The two women think they accidentally killed him, and are astonished when he suddenly comes back to life.
Yet another client, who initially is friendly enough, proves to be a necrophile who wants to re-enact a specific rape and murder with Ai. When he tries to strangle her, Ai finally resists. He lets her go, but demands his money back. This puts Ai on thin ice with her manager.
Ai and Saki
On a threesome assignment, Ai meets Saki, a pro-dominatrix who deftly commands their masochistic male client (and Ai too). Saki shows the kind of confidence and control Ai lacks. Saki takes Ai to her lavish home, where they hang out. Saki proves to be a serious cocaine user (she snorts, injects and smokes it).
Ai: You must be wealthy.
Saki: Not really. It’s Japan that’s wealthy. But it’s wealth without pride. It creates anxiety, which drives our men into masochism. I’ve made my living out of these men.
Saki gives Ai an unspecified drug that will allegedly give her courage. After her night with Saki, Ai goes on a journey to find her former lover who married another woman, though it’s implied he actually died.
In a post-credit scene, Ai appears on stage, dressed in a Saki-like outfit. She signs something in sign language, then dances in a far more confident way.
Ai at her manager’s office.
I wouldn’t call Ai masochistic. She doesn’t embrace her experiences, but instead seems detached, even confused. It’s different from Lucy in Sleeping Beauty (2011); Ai seems like a person who has lost her way, and looks to others for direction. She watches Saki dominating the client like a person attending a university lecture that they just don’t understand.
BDSM in Tokyo Decadence is not a means to connection or intimacy. It’s a symptom of a dysfunctional society, of men (mostly) who have too much money for their own good, paralleled by the drug use (mostly cocaine and other stimulants) and the gourmet meals. Human connection is what’s missing, and what Ai searches for.
Gaitskill herself has described the film as “the Pretty Woman version of my story.” (Gaitskill, Mary. “Victims and Losers: A Love Story; Thoughts on the Movie Secretary” Somebody With a Little Hammer: Essays, Pantheon Books: New York, 2017) Last year, the New Yorker magazine published (March 27, 2023) Gaitskill’s follow-up story “Minority Report”. It tells the story of Debby and her life after her encounter with “the lawyer,” now given the name of Ned Johnson.
“Minority Report” is less a sequel than a retelling of the same event from Debby’s changed perspective as a woman in her 50s, and her difficulty in understanding and expressing her experience. The title explicitly comes from the Steven Spielberg film of the same name, in which precognitive people experience flashes of future events while kept in a sedated state, and a team of detectives have to interpret these scattered, impressionistic glimpses of possible crimes and decide what to do.
Secretary (2002) has taken up a disproportionate amount of time in researching and writing The Celluloid Dungeon. I already knew there were a lot of differences between Mary Gaitskill’s original short story and the finished film directed by Steven Shainberg, but I’ve since learned there were significant differences between Erin Cressida Wilson’s script and the finished product. (See Ariel Schudson’s “Secretary and Adaptation: the Telephone theory”) Thanks to inter-library loan, I’ve borrowed a copy of the script book, which also includes essays by Wilson and others.
The first two acts are a straightforward drama. Chris McCormick, a famous model known for sexually provocative pictorials, agrees to meet with the music teacher, Gordon Stuart, of her teen sister, Kathy. Gordon, angered by Chris’ indifference to him and the glamour of her lifestyle, assaults and rapes her in her apartment, including tying her to her bed. Kathy briefly witnesses the end of this.
R100 is a 2013 Japanese absurdist comedy. A depressed man enters a contract to be assaulted by dominatrixes in random places at random times.
It starts off relatively realistically. Katayama is a depressed furniture salesman dealing with raising his young son while his wife has been in a coma for years. He visits a company known only as “Bondage”. The host has him sit on a merry-go-round and view dominatrixes. The offer is a one-year contract during which different dominatrixes will assault him unpredictably. Katayama agrees.
Nymphomaniac Volume 2 is the second part of notorious director Lars von Trier’s 2013 film about a woman with sexual compulsion.
The framing story is that Seligman, an elderly academic, finds a beaten women in an alley near his apartment, and takes her home. She says her name is Joe, and when Seligman asks her how she ended up in his alley, she says she would have to tell him her entire life story. Over one night, Joe tells Seligman her biography in search of sexual pleasure, with frequent asides from both of them on topics ranging from techniques of fly fishing to the history of religious art. This dialog also acts as a kind of trial, with Joe prosecuting herself as a bad person who deserved her mistreatment, and Seligman defending her decisions and her worth as a person.
[Note: all English quotes are from the English dub.]
The relaxation of film censorship in the 1960s and 1970s, both in the US and abroad, created an interesting period in mainstream films were much more daring in terms of sexuality and violence, while some porn films had bigger budgets and higher production values to play in mainstream theatres and reach a larger audience. Naturally, someone would try to adapt arguably the most famous novel about BDSM to the big screen, Histoire d’O by “Pauline Reage” (aka Anne Desclos), published 1954.
