Reviewed by: Disposable Passions: Vintage Pornography and the Material Legacies of Adult Cinema by David Church Erin Wiegand David Church. Disposable Passions: Vintage Pornography and the Material Legacies of Adult Cinema. New York. Bloomsbury Press, 2016. 296 pages, $27.85. While going through a collection of sexploitation film fan magazines as part of my PhD dissertation research, I was flummoxed by a number of photo spreads supposedly taken on the sets of films I'd never heard of and couldn't find any information about. It wasn't until reading David Church's Disposable Passions: Vintage Pornography and the Material Legacies of Adult Cinema (Bloomsbury, 2016), that I realized these films had, in fact, been invented. Church explains that a few adult magazines of the 1960s and 70s would recycle production stills from different films (or use newly shot photographs), combining them with a phony synopsis for a film that never existed. In so doing, he argues, these magazines underscored the relationship between adult films and their paratextual framework: first, such pictorial features mirrored commonplace practices of the exploitation film industry, which would itself frequently re-use old footage as well as insert newly shot scenes in creating new product for release. But also, for contemporary collectors of vintage adult-film magazines—as well as for historians and researchers—these magazines' coverage of films that either are now lost or never existed in the first place also invokes an erotic sense of "tease," of desire deferred, that is similar to the pleasures of pornographic films themselves. Such insights about the particular desires stoked by vintage porn's "material legacies" (to quote the book's subtitle) are at the heart of Disposable Passions, which looks at the contemporary collecting, distribution, and appreciation of pre-1980s sex films. Of course, Church does not only look at paratextual items like fan magazines, but also examines the ways in which vintage porn's materiality—that is, imaginings or evidence of its physical existence as a film print—adds to its erotic value for contemporary fans. The book is thus well situated in recent scholarship around adult film, which seems to have growing interest in material cultures. Church's analysis throughout the book rests on Linda Williams' argument (particularly in her 2008 book Screening Sex) that the essence of erotic cinema—and eroticism in general—is a tension between concealment and revelation, or 'itch' and 'scratch'. This idea undergirds not only the form and function of sex films themselves, but also their history, as censorship laws and cultural standards shift and determine what can and cannot be shown on screen. This is, by now, not a particularly new concept—but what Church does in Disposable Passions is to apply the conceal/reveal thesis to several new areas of study, demonstrating this same dynamic at work in the enjoyment of vintage porn by contemporary fans; the content and editorial direction of 1960s sexploitation film magazines; the collecting and curation of vintage porn in archives; and the re-release of these films on home video. Part of what makes vintage porn appeal to its fans, Church argues, is that these films have largely been seen as 'disposable passions', and discarded, banned, neglected, or otherwise concealed from view; fans (and historians) thus have to work to 'rediscover' and reveal them. Disposable Passions is in some ways a companion to Church's previous work Grindhouse Nostalgia (Edinburgh University Press, 2015), which examines how exploitation films (primarily of the 1970s) have been reimagined by contemporary fans: what he calls "retrosploitation." In both books, Church posits that as once-ephemeral, hard-to-find, low-culture films become more widely accessible via video and then DVD, nostalgia operates as a mechanism to regulate the connoisseurship of the fan culture around them. Most importantly, Church finds that nostalgia can fuel both ironic readings of older texts (an appreciation of a film's outmodedness, quaint sensibilities, or 'badness') and sincere appreciations of films that fans champion as having withstood the test of time and which still have the capacity to thrill and entertain. In other words, fans can use nostalgia to enjoy older exploitation films both because of and in spite of their age...
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