THE HISTORY OF PORNOGRAPHY (1970)

“What is pornography to one man is the laughter of Venus to another.” – D.H. Lawrence

For a quickly produced feature that was constructed out of almost nothing but stills, magazines with a mini-raid on Art Burnham’s personal collection stag films, Bob Chinn’s The History of Pornography (credited to Hons Wegmunsen) is a surprisingly insightful, entertaining, and well assembled piece of product that was designed by producer Eddie DePriest to fly under the radar while also staying in the jet stream of Alex DeRenzy’s Pornography in Denmark: A New Approach, a groundbreaking “documentary” from the same year that was shot at trade show in Denmark where pornography had just been legalized. Within DeRenzy’s film, actual hardcore images were projected onto theater screens in America, all but officially kicking off the sundowning of the softcore feature.

Ostensibly, The History of Pornography is exactly as the title lays it out. Bob Chinn states a thesis, builds a history that begins in historical antiquity, and slow-walks the viewer to the then-contemporary phenomenon of hardcore films which, at the time, Chinn himself was dabbling in after helming a countless run of so-called beaver and split-beaver loops. Chinn sells this as much more than just a sleazy attempt to get smut into the theaters because there is true conviction in his words. Long fascinated with forbidden and banned literature, Chinn had a genuine enthusiasm for unshackling art that had been deemed obscene or pornographic, having dealt with it firsthand when, as a voracious young reader, books he had ordered from overseas were frequently seized by customs as their contents had been deemed verboten in America. Even though it’s all boilerplate, Chinn lays out a cogent and reasonable defense of pornography as not only an art form that is libidinous and taboo but also something that is as much a part of civilization as art itself. He makes a further well-taken point when he says that we have to be able to see pornography if we are to take it seriously and consider it critically.

Chinn begins the journey in China with images of beautiful screen prints and textual readings (by Chinn himself) before we move to Japan and are given examples of a pillow book, a gift to brides to illustrate sexual intercourse, with further narration from more historical texts. From there, we move to India Perfume Garden, and then on to the western world where we see Greco-Roman art depicting more open sexuality, concluding the first part of the film on books and literature that were deemed offensive and pornographic, including some fun Tijuana bibles.

The second part of the journey deals the various pornographic materials such as magazines, that are available in the western world. The purpose here, which is basically just a raft of shots of the covers and guts of various adult publications, is to show just HOW MUCH of it permeated the marketplace at the time. Then it’s off to Denmark which is where the film’s major political points are made as Chinn wishcasts the legalization of pornographic material in the United States and gives an historical account of the slow movement of its legalization through the American courts. Of course, all of it is read over a blast of images of cunnilingus, fellatio, anal sex, ball licking, double penetration, ejaculation, anilingus, group sex, spit-roasting, gay sex, and interracial sex. By the time his narration was over the instrumental music kicked in, a silent “I’m sorry, Bob Chinn… what was that you just said?” floated through my brain.

But is in the third part of the film that Bob Chinn articulates one of the most interesting and and most durable points. While speaking about the earliest of pornographic motion pictures, specifically, The Devil, a primitive stag film from the late 1930’s that runs (mostly out of frame) in its entirety, “In regard to form and structure, it is a film typical of its period. Such films of necessity had to be made illegally and we can plainly see as a matter of history that the production quality was first to suffer. There were also obvious limitations in regard to available talent. But despite such drawbacks, some producers did manage to show a good deal of imagination and perhaps even talent in their under the counter and underground and under-the-counter endeavors.” Not only is this about as concise a way to explain how best to approach pornographic films, Chinn might as well be giving the preamble to his own filmography, a fistful of fun that was generally spun from rubbing two pennies together, producing the most independent of independent productions and making him a bonafide maverick.

Initially made to be seen in brothels, the early stag films that Chinn utilizes in The History of Pornography are great fun and, as he describes them, great sociological documents which highlight the rawest element of what makes porn so intriguing; seeing people unashamedly exhibiting sexual activity that makes up a sort of cinéma vérité that doesn’t regularly occur outside of documentary film. Maybe the inclusion of virtually all of The Nun, a 20 minute stag film from the 40’s, to stretch the affair to feature length was a decision that wears out its welcome, but its addition as a curiosity/example can safely be defended as being well within the scope of the project.

In The History of Pornography, Chinn not only gets in a pocket-sized chronicle of one of the most enduring types of art and entertainment on the planet, he stumbles upon an unlocked truth as the topic pivots to home movie equipment and early 8 and 16mm formats were what caused early porn films to spread despite their illegality; an ominous look into the future as home viewing would become one of the largest ingredients in the stew that would be the industry’s eventual undoing in the 80’s.

The film concludes with 16mm beaver and split-beaver films, full-color and much more artfully composed pieces of product that could be seen in an actual theater, before giving way to the hardcore loops. Here we get all kinds of scenarios which include women writhing on couches, in beds, and, of course, the den of all iniquities: the mid-century shower where close-up masturbation collides with the unmistakable period hue visible in the tile work (a reminder to the viewers of the future that virtually NOTHING captured a time and place as specifically as porn and exploitation). The loop included in the film’s final ten minutes (featuring a threesome that includes Chuck Lish, one of Chinn’s earliest studs of great dependence) isn’t a great example of good porn but, at the very least, Chinn had the good sense to showcase people who had clean feet which, unfortunately, was not always the chief worry amongst adult filmmakers (even though it very well should have been).

50-plus years later, The History of Pornography endearingly plays like something that would be threaded through a projector and show in a junior high classroom. Chinn’s matter-of-fact narration and all of the pops and wear and tear on the print used for the transfer give it a very specific sheen that, in the absence of a pristine print, is at the very least lovable. Additionally, from the instrumental dirge of Porgy and Bess’s “Summertime” to some of his musical selections that would drift through the sex scenes in a couple of the Johnny Wadd films the following year, Chinn shows an early and fun talent for matching image with music that turns the burner on to “light sleaze” while still keeping it tasty and classy.

A phantasmagoria of amazing and beautiful pornographic images, The History of Pornography tracks an evolution of images to literature, magazines and pictorials, and then to the then-nascent features and beyond while it also argues for its own practical place in the cycle of the changing times; a classed-up history of erotica that gets to have its cake and eat it, too. For its very nature is, in fact, rhetorically heralded within the first sixty seconds as Chinn solemnly intones, “As indicated by its title, this is a film about pornography. It is not, however, a pornographic film. Or is it?”

It is. And that’s ok.

(C) Copyright 2023, Patrick Crain