Art or Porn?

I got this movie from Netflix today called "9 Songs". Now, I expected something controversial, that's why I got it. I'd heard and read all about how the 2 actors who made this film actually had sex, no faking it. I read it was released with an NC-17. I was not prepared for what I got. A racy film? Explicit romance set to music? A deep and meaningful artistic journey? Bullfuckingshit. What I got was pure PORN! They showed it ALL. I mean come on, all it is one sex scene after the other with some boring ass songs thrown in between. I read there was no script. Well, shit, when all you're gonna do is show fucking, sucking, pussy, dick, oral sex, cum shots, penetration and S&M, who needs a fucking script?

Now, don't get me wrong. I enjoyed the sex. Twice actually. I don't know why, but there is something intrinsically more erotic and exciting to me watching p0rnographic sex in what's touted as a "real" movie than actually just watching porn. But therein lies the rub (pun intended) - what makes this art and not porn? In my book, there is no distinction. Take away the sex and all you're left with is some lame ass concert footage. We're supposed to accept this as a "film" just because it has Michael Winterbottom's name on it? Fuck that. Chi Chi La Rue is more brilliant. At least with her you get gang bangs, ass licking and hot guys. And it doesn't tout itself as being something it's not.

I'm pretty fucking liberal, but come on. The line must be drawn somewhere. This SHOULD have been rated X and should not have been released into theatres.

Ok, I'm off to go watch her suck his cock and watch him shoot hot jizz all over himself one more time, ponder the meaning of it all, and then I'm going to bed.

"What am I supposed 2 do with it? It don't matter, just don't bite it!" - N.W.A., She Swallowed It