REPEAT OFFENDERS

Podcast Review GIRLS ON PORN

What better way of honouring Grapeshot’s “Fantasy” issue than by reviewing a podcast that explores the many fantasies people are experiencing in 2022? Girls on Porn is a podcast first released on streaming platforms four years ago. Its hosts, Laura and Rachel, dissect and discuss popular search terms found on porn sites and discuss where these terms originated and how they are received. At Grapeshot, we listened to several episodes, ranging from the show’s commencement in 2019 to current episodes, and we’re here to give an uncensored review of how Girls on Porn discusses these fantasies, and whether it’s worth a listen.

Tattoos – April 2019

One of the first episodes released was on the search term ‘Tattoos’. The premise of each episode is that the hosts discuss a popular term found on porn websites and why it has become a fantasy that many people around the world wish to explore. This episode comes after ‘tattoo’ was found to be the seventh most searched porn category in 2018, much to the surprise of the hosts who initially didn’t think this topic was worth discussing. The subject of the episode is supported by relevant statistics to justify the popularity of the topics, such as how the term ‘tattooed women’ grew in popularity by eighty-eight per cent, and how studies suggest tattooed women were almost fourteen per cent more likely to be solicited by men. Other useful data included a study that found women believed men looked healthier with tattoos, but not necessarily more attractive. The podcast continues as the hosts discuss their own tattoos, before going into a segment titled ‘homepage hoedown’ in which they dissect porn titles featuring tattoos in the tags to show how different terms are used to get clicks in this industry.

My biggest criticism of this episode is how a large portion of the episode is dedicated to the hosts dissecting various videos at great length. Whilst this may be engaging to some audiences and I found their analysis humorous, it was not particularly helpful or engaging as they often strayed from the topic of the episode and got lost deconstructing the videos in unnecessary depth. The episode was engaging but at times lacked substance, leaving this listener confused and waiting for the end.

Movie Sex Scenes - June 2019

When looking for episodes to review, I made sure to find ones that could resonate with readers with a variety of experiences and not any kinks or genres. For this reason, the movie- and TV-sex scenes episodes would be the episodes I recommend for listeners looking to get started with this podcast. They were easier to follow than an episode that focusses only on one search term and includes relevant discussions as to why sex scenes on the big screen have an impact on so many viewers.

The movie sex scenes episode took a different direction to previous ones as the hosts were not discussing porn at length. Instead, they looked at how movies depict sex, contrasting it to the possible reality of that situation. They begin by discussing how movies are often the first time people are exposed to sexual content, leading to many people’s sexual awakening. They include relevant data such as how the movie The Kiss (1896) was considered to have the first sex scene on camera, despite it not depicting sex in an upfront way. They contrast this to works such as the Czech film Ecstasy (1933), which was one of the first movies to show nudity and examine female pleasure. They also include some recommendations of films that they enjoyed and were meaningful to them. The range was extensive and included suggestions from both hosts and their listeners, including films like The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) The Shape of Water (2017), Deadpool (2016), and Titanic (1997). In addition to this, they also discuss the heteronormativity of movie sex scenes and how different components of sex are rarely explored in movies. I found this episode more engaging and appreciated how they incorporated their audience’s perspectives as well. TV Sex Scenes - March 2022

In 2022 the hosts visit TV sex scenes and evaluate how TV has influenced sexuality in both dramas and mainstream viewing. Whilst the conversation is largely based on American television, the insights discussed are still valuable and applicable in an Australian context.

They begin this episode with a segment titled ’69 seconds of sex news’ in which they discuss news events that have a sexual component. I really enjoyed this feature, especially learning of how many accidents occur because people experience overbearing sexual urges whilst driving. They begin their discussion in 1955, considering how I Love Lucy contained one of the first instances of pregnancy being depicted on TV. They discuss how networks brushed over the idea of conception through scenes such as Lucy pushing her bed together with her partner. It wasn’t until 1964 where audiences saw Samantha in Bewitched share a bed with her partner.

The notion of censorship is considered when they discuss how The Muppet Show was banned in Saudi Arabia in 1979, specifically for Miss Piggy’s “piggyness”. Similar events continue to take place in 2022 with the ban of Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness (2022) in Saudi Arabia due to the fact that the character, America Chavez, explains that she has two mothers. The podcast discusses how censorship policies dictate what makes it on to TV, highlighting how content that may be understood as indecent or public nuisance is more likely to be rejected. Some notable TV shows exploring sex included Pose (2018-2021), Bridgerton (2020- ) Outlander (2014- ), and a personal favourite, Sex Education (2019- ). I enjoyed this episode for the hosts humorous takes on TV sex scenes and the discussion on LGBTQ+ representation in shows such as Queer as Folk (2000-2002) and Orange Is the New Black (2013-2019). This episode is well worth a listen.

Erotic fiction with Almaz Ohene – July 2020

This episode, Laura and Rachel are joined by guest host Almaz Ohene who is a professional sex educator focused on giving young people the facts about pleasure. She states how “literature is full of raunchy bits” and that erotic material usually comes from a place of desire. The most interesting theme raised in this episode is that erotic material is often written poorly because “good sex scenes are hard to write”. This idea emerges when the podcast gives audiences a taste of poorly written sex scenes in the segment ‘Bad Sex Awards’. They argue that because society is generally sex-negative, many authors rely on biological terms to describe any sexual experiences. This results in many writers incorporating poorly used metaphors to describe pleasure. Some interesting facts included in this episode were that the romance-erotica genre of literature makes over $1.4 billion every year, and that one of the oldest love poems was dated back to 2037 BC. While I really enjoyed this episode, I found the lack of discourse on fanfiction - a very prominent form of erotica that inspired the likes of Fifty Shades of Grey (2015) and After we Collided (2014) - to ignore a significant part of erotica’s target audience. I also felt that the hosts didn’t utilise guest speaker Ohene enough despite her being very engaging and experienced and providing insightful commentary. Instead, much of the podcast was based on a superficial love for a written sex scene where it would have benefitted from more of Ohene’s commentary and insight.

To Finish…

Girls on Porn gives an authentic and funny insight into the world of sexual fantasies and creates a space for porn and various kinks to be discussed freely and retrospectively. Most episodes include factual components to justify why the subject is important, with Laura and Rachel providing additional commentary on how popular some search terms are. The episodes have a tendency to get side-tracked, but, overall, the podcast is interesting for anyone wanting to learn more about the porn industry or their own sexuality, making it a perfect recommendation for Grapeshot’s fantasy issue.

Girls on Porn is available for streaming on Spotify and Apple Podcasts with new episodes weekly.

by Jackson Robb

This review contains spoilers of Cruising. TW this article contains references to sexual violence.

William Friedkin’s CRUISING

is a Flawed, Moody and Misunderstood Masterpiece of Kink and Corrupt Law Institutions

The fetish scene has a fascinating place in history. In the context of the fight for gay liberation in mid-20th century America, leather and S&M culture emerged, and it was a place that promoted sexual liberation and freedom. It took a while for us to develop a better understanding of kink culture, and we’re still up in arms over its place in Pride Month. Such a discourse has stemmed not only from right-wing commentators, but also some members of the LGBT community. Kink is a world for adults only, and it encapsulates sadomasochistic sexuality, fetishes, and freedoms, but it has also been part of queer history, and both kink and LGBT scenes have worked together to fight against stigmas, homophobia, and misunderstanding. To erase kink from Pride is to ignore a relevant part of history and exclude members of the LGBT community for celebrating their identities while fuelling homophobic and sex-negative discourse.

Interestingly, the production of Cruising (1980) was protested by gay activists, who believed the film would depict them as depraved and violent, further stignatising them. Especially since Cruising was written, produced, and directed by straight people, there is some merit to why activists were worried about how the film could affect public views on gay rights. However, a careful viewing of Cruising proves that it was unfairly maligned before it even hit the screens. What used to be a controversial look at a stigmatised subculture is now a moody, raw, time capsule that offers the rare kink representation, mixed with sleazy horror, murder mystery, and Giallo elements. Judging by the current direction of mainstream cinema, there may never be another film like Cruising.

In New York City, there’s been a series of amputated limbs being disposed of in the Hudson River, and the pattern happens to be occurring near the Meatpacking District, where the mundanity of life plays out during the daytime. It’s only when night approaches that the kink community shows up, most of them wearing a variety of fetishistic gear, and embracing their sexual liberation. Whenever they walk the streets, though, there are cops that patrol them, and it’s a daunting sight. Their misunderstandings and feelings of disgust and homophobia claw their way into the atmosphere, making it as alluring as it is oppressive. A mysterious figure walks into a leather bar, observant of the kinky action, and is

approached by an actor, Loren Lukas (Arnaldo Santana), where they briefly converse, and then later hook up at a cheap motel. We don’t see the sex scene play out, but the mysterious figure threatens and ties up Loren, who’s emotionally paralysed enough to realise there’s no way out of this harrowing situation before he’s stabbed to death. Amidst the subliminal imagery of gay anal sex playing out during the stabbing, the last words Loren hears from his killer are, “You made me do it.”

As the police identify Loren’s remains, Captain Edelson (Paul Sorvino) realises the current case will lead to media pressure and backlash from the gay community if the murders remain unresolved, so he assigns officer Steve Burns (Al Pacino) to explore the gay S&M and leather bars in the Meatpacking District and track down the murderer, purely because of how he resembles the victims’ appearances. As he can’t tell anyone about the case, Steve creates a double life, posing as a single gay man, John Forbes who puts on the leather and begins exploring the bars at night. He’s unfamiliar with the scene he’s exploring and he’s unsettled, but as he gets more exposure, not only is he getting closer to finding the murderer, but he’s losing himself in the night and comes to a gradual realisation that he may not be who he originally was.

The world wasn’t ready in 1980 for what Cruising had to offer, even with the excision of 40 minutes of footage for the MPAA to grant it a wide release. It does not condemn the kink scene, and it is not judging its members for their choices. When Friedkin and cinematographer James A. Contner capture the action early in the leather bars, there’s a genuine fascination in the way these sequences are shot. The camera is up-close to the X-rated action that’s severely limited by R-rated boundaries, yet Cruising manages to create such a sensual, titillating atmosphere that it takes over the frames. There’s a sense of livelihood, community, and sexual freedom that it recognises, utilising location photography to create a sense of docu-realism and authenticity within these environments. The extras were real members of the S&M community that supported Cruising, and it is worth noting this rarity of representation in a Hollywood film that portrayed their subculture.

Upon learning the context that Cruising’s script was inspired by a series of unsolved killings in gay leather bars in the 1970s, it is easy to accuse the film of being exploitative. Friedkin cleverly circumvents this issue by using its murder mystery elements and S&M subculture backdrop to shed a brutally scathing light on law enforcement. Cops were employed during production to protect the cast and crew, which creates an inseparable irony in its social commentary, but that doesn’t stop Cruising from being critical of police institutions. Throughout the film the majority of cops express disgust about the rebellious nature and fetishistic appearance of the leather subculture and are unwilling to understand how their community works. They express little concern for the harassment, violence faced by the queer community as a consequence of persistent stigmas. The police only care when they face looming pressure from gay activists and possible media outrage, and even then their investigative methods are deeply flawed.

It is the treatment of two supporting characters that solidify Cruising’s anti-cop sentiment: DaVinci (Gene Davis), a cross-dressing sex worker, and Skip Lee (Jay Acovone), a suspect who has a reputation for being violent. When Cruising introduces DaVinci, they’re with another sex worker,

and both of them get harassed by two cops, who coerce them into their car and force them into having oral sex off-screen. Before we meet Steve, we learn DaVinci is an informant for the police, passing on information that’ll help them catch the murderer, and hopefully ease tensions between the S&M scene and the cops. However, when DaVinci tells Edelson about their sexual assault, he accuses them of lying, threatens and dismisses them. That alone shows the overwhelming power cops had over the queer community.

But Cruising hasn’t yet unleashed its quiet anger at law enforcement institutions until Steve’s investigation causes the cops to hastily arrest and then brutally interrogate Lee. They use homophobic slurs, accuse him of lying, and bring in a Black cowboy in a jockstrap to slap him, a technique that the cops use to discredit any testimony the suspect may have against them. They then coerce Lee into confessing and masturbating into a cup so they can test his semen against those found in the victims’ bodies. His despair increases, insisting he’s innocent and he wants to see a lawyer, only to be denied this request. Eventually, his fingerprints do not match those on the murder weapon, and he’s free to go, but the trauma can’t be undone. He no longer appears for the rest of the film, but that scene doesn’t minimise Lee’s trauma, suffering and discrimination and contributes to Steve’s disillusion about his involvement in the case.

It showcases a bleak reality that the S&M scene had to face, and looking forward, we’ve gradually learned how fetish and hookup cultures function and their emphasis on boundaries, consent, rules, and limitations. Even then, there’s still a lack of understanding amongst those who fear and stigmatize the kink community. Police brutality still occurs towards minorities and it demonstrates how relevant Cruising’s social issues are. It may not have been written and made by people involved in the kink community, but Friedkin has done his research and shown respectful sympathy towards the people portrayed in Cruising, and whilst its controversies are understandable, to call it a homophobic work of art is to ultimately dismiss its thematic layers.

The actors playing the killer and victims keep rotating, adding psychological surrealism to Cruising’s fever dream nature and fuelling its murder mystery. Whenever a murder sequence takes place, there’s subliminal, split-second imagery of hardcore gay pornography, associating the murderer’s brutality with his sexual lust. While this is an artistic decision that can be taken out of context, Friedkin draws upon the complex forms of homophobia, both institutionalised and internalised. When you learn about the murderer’s possible motivations, it elicits pity and a sense of understanding but never a justification for his actions. He enjoys being attracted to fetish and yet he despises it. He’s compelled by the scene, building his self-loathing, hatred and knowledge of surrounding judgments, and he’s compelled to act out his violent desires. Rotating the actors between killer and victim not only creates ambiguity but a truly terrifying realisation that, no matter who gets caught, the real evil is homophobia. Simplifying the murderer to one character would strip Cruising of its effective tragedy and horror. The cycle of violence, hatred and shame will never end for at least one person.

Steve Burns is a fascinating character to think about in hindsight. There’s not much we know about him and he appears hollow, but his ambiguous nature does make him an intriguing character. He’s willing to go undercover if it gets him a promotion and a gold shield, and it’s where his career ambitions are juxtaposed against his personal life with his girlfriend. They’re both distant. Steve can’t tell Nancy about the case, both because it’s confidential and because its nature will lead to her opposition. It’s easy to see the story through his perspective as, due to Cruising’s partial commercial appeal, the audience is as new to the kink scene as he is. Al Pacino’s performance is there to hold

the audience’s hand, guiding them through the immersive, kinky imagery that shocks and intrigues. Whenever Steve is undercover, Pacino slightly exaggerates his facial expressions and movements to remind us his character is essentially acting, yet he still plays into Steve’s unease, confusion, and familiarity as he explores the scene, further enhanced by Cruising’s nocturnal mood and occasional point-of-view shots. Even the sexual and sadomasochistic activity from Steve’s perspective is shot in a hazy manner, his gaze highlighting how sexual fetishes are being expressed in unexpectedly open ways. Only through repetition, montages and a great punk-rock soundtrack do we see Steve learning the ins and outs of the kink scene, and as he loses himself into the night, the action grows irresistible and attractive.

We never see Steve kiss a guy or engage in homosexual activity, and that’s where Cruising’s missing footage may have affected the cut a bit too much. Friedkin claims it consisted of only male pornography, despite some story twists that would affect audience views of the characters, but it still feels frustrating that Steve’s views of S&M subculture don’t always feel explored, and there’s a notable shift away from the clubbing action once Cruising hones in on its primary suspect. It’s a genuine shame that a director’s cut will forever remain lost, but it still leaves Cruising open enough to interpretation that its ambiguities become genuinely skin-crawling.

Cruising’s action is tame and not as perverse by today’s standards, but its sensuality and steaminess turn it into a powerful mood piece. It tackles a subject matter that most studios were unwilling to, and, in retrospect, Cruising has become a time capsule of what the night kink scene was like in the eighties. The internet age we live in has led to the prominence of hook-up apps and adult social media platforms like Recon and FetLife, allowing kinksters to connect online. Because the spotlight has shifted to some extent from kink clubs and leather bars, that scene is starting to feel like a relic of the past. Evaluating Cruising retrospectively is compelling, especially to see how progress has been made and that general social attitudes toward kink have become more understanding.

Cruising is a messy, flawed film. Its issues stem from its production controversies and MPAA-imposed censorship that affected the film’s narrative. It gets a lot right about the kink community and a few things that would be considered outdated, but Cruising’s legacy highlights how starkly underrepresented it remains in today’s cinema. It was audacious, raw and brave, especially in its portrayal of leather and S&M subculture, and we need more stories like Cruising, a stylish and terrifying murder mystery that pulls you into its rich atmosphere and focuses on being a mood piece rather than providing easy answers. Never has the imagery been so up close that you almost smell the sweat from the mens’ bodies, and hear the alluring creak of their leather gear. Its style overwhelms, its imagery titillates, and its material terrifies and intrigues. Cruising may not be perfect but it was far ahead of its time, and is worthy of greater recognition.

by Nicholas Chang

GRAPEY BOOK CLUB CARE

by Brooke McAlary

Brooke McAlary’s Care: The Radical Art of Taking Time (2021) is an homage to the origins of self-care, before it caught on as part of the materialist and capitalist mechanisms engaged in ever-growing profits and consumption cycles. Care, she writes, is the ultimate antidote to life in a world that is fraught with disconnection and division.

McAlary believes there are two types of care: “Big Care” and “Small Care”.

“Big Care” relates to those global, gargantuan issues that are rarely solved by individuals. Issues like climate change, institutional poverty, war and violence in traditionally pillaged countries. Some individuals hold the weight of those worldly concerns in their hands, and on their shoulders. The solution to that mind- and body-crippling weight, McAlary supposes, is “Small Care”.

“Small Care” are the tiny acts of kindness and attention that are everywhere. Smiles between strangers; small moments of physical touch between loved ones; time spent mindfully in nature; a homemade meal shared with friends. These are the acts that regenerate our individual strength to revisit “Big Care” and participate in change – “Small Care” is what powers our ability to contribute to things that seem impossible. More than anything, McAlary wants to emphasise that she thinks “Small Care” is actually the solution.

I would not characterise McAlary’s book in the genre of “self-help” – whenever I hear that phrase, something in me shudders and recoils for some reason. This book, much like Hugh Van Cuylenburg’s The Resilience Project, fits into a much more specific category of “revision of the self”. In my mind, these books work together because they encourage reflection and reconstruction, like when your home has termites and you need to strip the plasterboard away in order to revise (and often replace) the foundational structures.

That is how McAlary writes about “modern life” – an infestation that doesn’t quite work for us because it works against our minds and bodies. McAlary advocates for a return to nature, a return to the roots of self-care before it became about face-masks, yoga retreats, and media campaigns.

Care: The Radical Art of Taking Time explores what it means to care in seemingly insignificant, and yet emphatically powerful ways for ourselves, our loved ones, and our communities, in ways that do not have to cost us our well-being. In any case, these are the things that can improve our welfare and connection to the world. She writes: “Community offers an antidote to loneliness”.

I listened to this book as an audiobook, and I think that is the best way to read it! McAlary reads it herself, and her voice is soothing even as it is categorically Australian (which made the experience even more enjoyable).

This book advocates for the same philosophy as that line from Savage Garden’s song, Affirmation, that “we place our happiness in other people’s hands”. It’s not such a bad thing, as so many would have us believe. With compassion, empathy, and understanding that stems from one’s newfound connection to the environment and to others, McAlary encourages us to see that caring – even in the smallest of ways – has ripple effects, and that no one needs to go it alone.

by Nikita Byrnes

HOROSCOPES

ARIES

You’ve been dancing to the song of life lately, Aries. Try not to twist an ankle. TAURUS

It’s time to ask for more in life. Don’t split the bill, run to the toilet when it’s time to pay. When you reach 500 followers on Instagram, become an influencer. Start walking like Zoe Kravitz in The Batman. Main character energy, bestie. GEMINI

It’s time to let your intuition guide you. Is your gut telling you that you should move to Europe, delete all your social media and block your ex? Maybe your intuition is right, and all your problems will go away when you are finally isolated from your support network.

CANCER

Have you been thinking about taking a holiday? Now may not be the time, have you seen the lines at the airport lately? Saying that, a few hours with only your thoughts in a crowded airport may prompt you to invent a better personality. Go for it. LEO

Some bad news is coming your way. Prepare yourself, it will be worse than the misinterpretation of the Gilded Age Met Gala theme. Buckle up. VIRGO

A guest may arrive soon in need of support. Dust off the guest room, Virgo, and find a way to make people believe you care.

LIBRA

You’ve been alone a lot recently, Libra. It’s okay because that’s what you want. Recharging your social battery and all that. But maybe you can invest in a portable charger so that your friends don’t forget you exist. SCORPIO

Is it IBS, or the fact that whenever you go out you hardly eat anything and drink excessively? SAGITTARIUS

Life can be so dramatic for no reason. Assignments, class participation and timed exams. It’s almost shocking to you that degrees require work.

CAPRICORN

People in your life are claiming you lied to them and gaslit them. Is it because of your tendency to deceive and gaslight those around you? AQUARIUS

Major career moves are on your mind of late Aquarius. You’ve worked so hard, and it will all pay off, so long as you stop saying slay. It may be another day, but it is not another slay. PISCES

Long-term plans are on your mind. You binged Heartstopper in a day and are now searching for your Nick Nelson. But Pisces, Nick Nelson is not looking for you babes x.

EDITORIAL PRODUCTION

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF - Saliha Rehanaz Editor-in-Chief - Saliha Rehanaz DEPUTY EDITOR - NIkita Byrnes Deputy Editor - NIkita Byrnes NEWS EDITOR - Olivia ChanNews Editor - Olivia Chan REGULARS EDITOR - Eleanor Taylor Regulars Editor - Eleanor Taylor CREATIVES/FEATURES EDITOR - Rayna Bland Creatives/Features Editor - Rayna Bland REPEAT OFFENDERS EDITOR - Harry Fraser Repeat Offenders Editor - Harry Fraser

CREATIVE PRODUCTION

Liz To, Stephanie Sutton, Lorenzo Meli Liz To, Stephanie Sutton, Ella Stewart Bruna Gomes, Clara Kristanda, Ashleigh Ho, Lauren Knezevic, Jackson

Robb, Isabella Trope, Anthea Wilson, Jasmine Joyan, Sruthi Sajeev, Nam Do, Nicholas Chang

EDITORIAL ASSISTANTS

Jaime Hendrie, Bruna Gomes, Bodie Murphy, Clara Kristanda, Ashleigh Ho, Lauren Knezevic, Jackson Robb, Isabella Trope, Anthea Wilson, Jasmine Joyan, Sruthi Sajeev, Nam Do, Nicholas Chang

MARKETING & ADVERTISING CONTRIBUTING WRITERS

Unnati Tayal, Tess Marsden, Nicola Stewart, Angelo Andrew Steven Bavaro GRAPESHOT acknowledges the Wallumattagal clan, of the Darug nation as the traditional custodians of the land on which we work and meet. We acknowledge that sovereignty was never ceeded, no treaty was signed, and would like to pay our respects to Elders, past, present and emerging. We would like to extend those respects to all First Nations people reading. Always was, always will be, Aboriginal land.

CONTRIBUTING WRITERS

Polina Bilinsky Mycak, Georgina Binns, Racquel Soares, Tahlia White, Rohini Banerjee, William Lawrence, Gypsy Bryant, Rebecca Ryan-Brown PUBLISHER COORDINATOR Mariella Herberstein Melroy Rodrigues

EDITORIAL REVIEW BOARD

Allastassia Carter, Amanda O’Neill, Racquel Soares, Jarrod Currey, Anahera-Keita Chessum PUBLISHER COORDINATOR

GRAPESHOT acknowledges the Wallumattagal clan, of the Darug nation as the traditional custodians of the land on which we work and meet. We acknowledge that sovereignty was never ceeded, no treaty was signed, and would like to pay our respects to Elders, past, present and emerging. We would like to extend those respects to all First Nations people reading. Always was, always will be, Aboriginal land.

Mariella Herberstein Melroy Rodrigues