1.Porn &Art in the 1980s || 2.Style || 3.Gender Differences || Appendix || Copyright

Oilman Tableaux. A catatonic secretary slowly types a memo while her boss is having sex.

Transforming Sex with Style || Desire in Decline ||Porno Pacing ||A Sea of Faces || Enclosures

Transforming Sex with Style

Perhaps it is remarkable that a porn movie should even have a cinematic style when the point is to usually to portray the sexual act in as natural and unaffected way as possible. But in Cafe Flesh, style is almost an alienating device: style complicates and even interferes with the effort to use the movie for sexual stimulation and release. The stylizations change the focus from the sex or the people to the visual field these performers inhabit. It calls attention to the artifice of the production and perhaps even the artifice of the performer's apparent pleasure.

Sex scenes in this movie have a certain mechanical feel. Often performers bear a resemblance to interlocking parts. In one scene, oil derricks move steadily in the background as the performers grind their bodies back and forth. When Johnny Rico holds Angel upside down while licking her crotch, her legs cross and uncross automatically as if by reflex. One of the two female secretaries in the Oilman tableaux holds a telephone in her hand and rotates her arms back and forth while she sucks him off. In one scene the two male performers wear telephone masks over their faces and perform like machines with Angel. At the beginning of this scene they flip Angel around like a gymnast or dancer instead of actually having sex with her. The exaggerated parodies of erotic movements make it clear that the sex act is just a single part of a choreographed performance.

These tableaux are theatrical pieces, and yet there is enough variety of camera shots and angles to evoke a three dimensional space. During the tableaux, the camera never pulls back or zooms in and (except for the final Johnny Rico scene) never even moves. For the whole time, the camera moves from the sex to catatonic reactions of Sex Negatives in the audience. These shots of audience members are always stationary and focused on one person at a time. Significantly, during the sex performances, the camera never shows the Sex Negative audience and performers in the same shot even though audience members sit only feet away from the stage (One notable exception will be discussed later).

Tableaux elements are abstracted and idealized. Performers do not perform as individuals but archetypes (the boss, the restless housewife, etc.) Performers have essentially no dialogue or emotion (except possibly a thrilled expression during the come shot). The audience of Sex Negatives (and, by implication movie viewers) reacts not to the character of individual performers but the titillating value of the overall scene. The performers' bodies are slender and attractive (and there is the subtle implication that the privileged status of Sex Positives derives mainly from their sexual attractiveness instead of sexual potency). In contrast, audience members look like misfits; they are short, have pale skin, strange clothes, androgynous faces, deformed hands and pock-marked faces. The Sex Positives do not have deformed bodies, but (except for Moms perhaps) they lack individual personalities. Their identity derives from the role they play in the performance; they are an idealization of a viewer's fantasies.

During the sex scenes, the movie constantly switches between camera shots of the performances and reaction shots of Sex Negatives (which annoyingly interrupt the flow of the scene). But as the performers come closer to ejaculation, the camera shots become longer and longer. In the lesbian military sequence, the pacing of the shots accelerate, not in anticipation of a come shot but the anger of Max's words and the lunging motions of the women in chains.

Because of the apocalyptic theme of the story and the theatrical nature of the tableaux—plus the fact that the composer Mitchell Froom knew screenplay writer Jerry Stahl from school—the music was tightly integrated into the movie. In many ways the music (and actual choreography) drive the sex scenes, not the other way around. The typical grunts and moans of sex are left out of sync with the performers. They became part of the soundtrack and part of the anonymous noises of the audience. The music substitutes for the void of information about the performers' thoughts and feelings (which remain a mystery).

The music combines synthesizer effects, startling drum patterns, sparkling electronica and—oh, yes—prerecorded sounds of human pleasure. In the Oil Man-Secretary number, the music pounds along, only to be interrupted by the secretary's question "Do you want me to type a memo?" being looped over and over. The music in the final 14 minute scene magnificently slows down time and almost hypnotizes the viewer. It is less melodic than impressionistic; it never appears to progress, but to ebb and recede, ascending and descending. It is discordant, but hypnotically repetitive. Endlessly continuing, never climaxing or ending at a single point, the music seems to bring the viewer closer to some final release, only to bottom out and start ascending some more. As Lana heads onstage, the music turns into a slow and gradual layering of otherworldly tones, punctuated by harsh drum outbursts. Altogether, that final sex scene lasts 14 minutes, but by this point the music has become the action—there are no sounds of bodies pushing against one another or sounds of pleasure. By the end, the onscreen action has slowed down to a crawl, and the viewer is simply lingering in the forlorn soundscape of sublimation.

The elaborate sets provide an absurdist and almost crazy ambience to the sexual performances. Slanted tables, cages, telephone booths, typewriters and baby high chairs add to the surrealism of the subterranean sex world. Disembodied hands snapping their fingers rise from the floor. Moving oil derricks, billowing smoke, noises of gunfire and explosions, blinking lights and a shadowy tree with swaying branches ensure that there is always movement onscreen to accompany the sex. The sexual performers are almost like living statues and comprise just one element of the whole tableaux. At times the sexual moments are so repetitive that only the visual movement in the background can keep the viewer's interest. In many ways the sexual performances are the least interesting parts of what is onscreen! These tableaux are not sex scenes but sexually-charged and aesthetically-charged environments which the viewer can enjoy both for its sexual display and aesthetic qualities.

The movie objectifies shamelessly, males as well as females. Male performers are characterized by vertical shapes and females by horizontals. The oilman has an oversized pencil for a head. The two male performers in the telephone tableaux stand on opposite ends of a table, hold Angel in a horizontal position and penetrate her from both sides. Johnny Rico's stature is accentuated by his long straight rectangular tie, and indeed Angel almost has to climb up to him to suck his cock. In contrast, when Lana joins the performers and climbs onto the bed, she crawls over an open space on the bed and slithers over Angel's prone body, never breaking the horizontal plane, while Johnny Rico stands watching at the side of the bed. These figures almost seem not to be actors but shapes and lines intersecting. In the military lesbian number, they become one side of a composition perfectly balanced by diagonal rays of light and the vertical backbone of the woman sitting atop the skill in the cage. Rinse Dream actually instructed performers "to be ice cold. There's no heat in the sex scenes … Zero Sensuality." ^[12] Despite the anti-erotic aspects of the film, the ice cold performances actually makes it easier for the viewer to project desires and pleasure onto the characters. The minimal level of emotions, facial expressions and words in the scenes make it impossible for the actors to fake anything.

The instability inherent in porn lies in never knowing what the performers are really feeling and whether they are enjoying themselves. Cafe Flesh emphasizes this fact by stressing the tableaux's artificiality—having imaginary creatures, fantastic situations (3 grown men in baby chairs!?) and a musical soundtrack which seems intentionally out of sync with the performers' actions.

Jacob Smith said that the sex performers of Cafe Flesh

Desire in Decline

How people respond to a porn movie depends on the viewers' sexual preferences and also their attraction to individual performers. As a heterosexual man I might experience discomfort trying to appreciate a gay porn movie; that indeed is the point. If personal tastes diverge so much, maybe it is impossible to arrive at some universal standard for what makes a porn film great. Perhaps some people are simply incapable of appreciating a certain porn film. This phenomenon is not limited to porn films though. Viewers can respond more enthusiastically to certain actors or styles or subjects. Porn could be the only genre where the viewer can simply bask in the performer's presence without needing to pretend that the script or performance is all that matters.

Nicky (Paul McGibboney) and Lana (Michelle Bauer) after the show. Scattered light (fallout?) from the post-nuclear world rain upon their bodies in the bedroom.

What is porn ABOUT? Is sex the main thing? Or do the sexual movements offer a way of expressing a personal emotion (like dancing might)? To offer an interpretation of a particular sex scene is not to say that the sex means THIS or that situational details of a sex scene are necessary for context. All the Cafe Flesh sex scenes or tableaux are self-contained set pieces that exist separately from the overall plot.

Unlike character-based porn films like The Opening of Misty Beethoven or Insatiable or Justine: Nothing to Hide), the viewer of Cafe Flesh knows almost nothing about the characters who perform in this movie's sex scenes (except for the final extended sex scene, which involves both the Angel and Lana characters). Each tableaux has a beginning, middle and end. As for plot or signifiers, who knows? These tableaux deal with tensions and oppositions and the excitement of transgression. It's difficult to take the contexts too literally, especially in the artificial context of the cafe. Perhaps there is a social commentary implicit in the military lesbian scene; on the other hand, it could be just two lesbians in military uniforms having sex. Meanings and interpretations are suggested, but how seriously they can be taken is another matter. To have the lesbian in Soviet army uniform put her mouth on the American army lesbian's crotch under Max's raucous laughter is indeed a political statement, but to have her licking the crotch continuously for several minutes leaves little doubt about the scene's prurient intentions. Merely because the performer's panties are decorated with an American flag doesn't imply a political message or even a message at all.

It may be more useful simply to note tensions and oppositions in these theatrical tableaux and suggest ways they resonate. The tableaux described here, according to Max Melodramatic, depict "desire in decline" in the hopes that "our humble spectacle might just be able to make you almost feel." Max's introductions set up the scene somewhat, but in general the sex is left to speak for itself.

The Mr. and Mrs. Sane tableaux depicts a woman on a rocking chair knitting. Two overgrown babies (one with the word "Brat" sewn on his shirt) sit on high chairs, banging away while smoke billows behind them. In walks a humanoid creature with a phallus-shaped nose and a long tail. He wears a milkman uniform and carries a cart of milk bottles; he prances about, sniffs her like a dog, then they have sex while the babies continue banging on their high chairs.

The scene seems to attack normalcy and sexuality in its typical domestic context. The overgrown babies loom over the woman's sexual encounter, and in fact they start swaying to the sexual motion. The mysterious stranger, instead of being handsome, is a pathetic-looking creature. Perhaps he is her husband. In the domestic context, the man has no sexual freedom but merely delivers the milky fluid to make babies. Nevertheless the woman seems to enjoy it; the sex act becomes a domestic ritual, but certainly not a pleasant one; it is just ridiculous.

The Oilman tableaux begins with Max imitating an Elvis-like man talking about the oil business with a Southern drawl. "The kind of gushers I like," he says, "are the kinds a man can feel." (15:50) The scene is set in an office environment where oil derricks rock back and forth like pendulums while clinking noises of steel are audible. One woman (a secretary?) reclines with legs apart on the boss's desk. Another woman (fully nude) sits in front of a typewriter and moves her hands slowly and zombie-like over the keys. In walks a man wearing a giant pencil-shaped mask, and at the side stands an unlabeled graph with a line that seems to be rising. The woman on the desk stretches her legs in and out and lifts the telephone receiver to her ear like a dumbbell. The typing secretary repeats in a monotone voice the question, "Do you want me to type a memo?" As the pencil man performs with the secretary on the desk, the typing secretary continues her mantra; with each succeeding cut, her questioning face comes closer to the camera.

This scene describes the sexual tension—sublimated or real—that permeates the work environment, where workers are arranged in a hierarchy of responsibility and salary, and female secretaries act subserviently to their bosses. What does the pencil head mean? Maybe it suggests the linearity or verticality of a business venture or a symbol of the boss's ability to sign official documents (the secretary, on the other hand, is obsessed with transcribing other people's words instead of her own). Though the power relationship in this office is unequal, it seems to benefit both boss and underling. The boss receives the gratification of female attention, and the secretary receives the gratification of assisting the male with business duties. A secretary's cooperative attitude and her eternal availability for typing a memo makes her an object of the man's secret desires which are externalized and satirized here.

The "Skull in the Cage" sequence (or the "military lesbians") is much more intricate and is in fact the only tableaux where an onstage character actually speaks (aside from the "Memo" mantra of the previous scene). The head of Max Melodramatic sits inside a small square cage on which a nude woman sits with her back to the camera. Sirens and gunfire can be heard as Max begins his angry soliloquy. Two scantily clothed women in military outfits are rolled before him, immobile and expressionless. As Max continues his tirade, the camera shifts from Max to the women, each time frozen in a different erotic position. Another crawling woman in rags grasps at them, but is restrained by a chain. The two women wear Soviet and American military uniforms, and while they go at one another in a 69 position, the flag-colored bikinis of each of them is prominent. Finally, Max's tirade changes to raucous laughter, a laughter that continues for the rest of the sex scene, as the woman in rags grasp at one another. During the whole time, disembodied female groans can be heard, groans that are either pleasurable or agonizing. Finally, the smoke clears, and the Max's head inside the cage tells the audience that the show is over, go home. The nude woman who had been sitting on Max's cage turns around, revealing that she had been wearing a Hitler-like moustache.

As stated before, there are problems with a purely political interpretation to this scene (though the Hitler moustache gives everything a "fascinating fascism" vibe). The ambiguity of the word on the wall makes it clear. The word "Party" is shown, but the spotlight is focused on it to deemphasize the first letter, making it appear as "Arty." "Party" has both political and hedonistic connotations, and the word "arty" goes one step further, suggesting that both connotations might be inadequate. Sex and war are linked as spectacles in which different entities invade the other's private space. Max speaks of the "superpowers in their sweet mad waltz of destruction" and what better irony of military machismo can there be than two lesbians engaged in oral sex with nobody being penetrated, and the lesbians looking more in agony than ecstasy. "Desire in chains" is a vivid reenactment of the audience's enslavement to inhibitions ("Max knows that the real bars are always behind the eyes"(30:35)), to their irrational fears, and finally to the exploitative cafe that profits from it.

The fourth "telephone tableaux" has a cool, hip vibe, where disembodied hands snap their fingers at the footlights, and two women in dresses with stylish black and white stripes stand near telephone booths on opposite sides while holding telephone receivers at arm's length. In center stage stands Angel—the innocent girl who was just snatched away by the Enforcers after unmasking her Sex Positivity. Her hair is now sleek and arranged; she's wearing the same sexy dress as the other two, devoid of the naivety or spontaneity from her previous scenes. Two men in masks that look like old-fashioned telephones pin her down on slanted table that turns out to be one side of a fallen telephone booth, under which crouches another nude woman who caresses the glass and mimics the sexual movements happening above. After the two males toss Angel around in silly exaggerated erotic motions, eventually their penises penetrate her for real and simultaneously come shortly thereafter: one outside her vagina, the other on her mouth.

The "telephone tableaux" scene lasts slightly more than 4 minutes. Every aspect of the scene—the motions, the dress, the emotions—are stylized and synchronized in a very formal way. Shots of the two motionless women holding telephones in the background punctuate the scene, as well as the disembodied fingers snapping by the footlights. Everything seems carefully choreographed, and Angel plays her new role perfectly. Instead of her innocence being degraded, she has been transformed into something dazzling. During the performance she seems aware of how she appears to the cafe audience—up to the point of letting the come drip down her breasts. She is no longer a victim but an enthusiastic performer.

In keeping with the piece's musical quality, sounds of sexual pleasure are added without any attempt to synchronize it with the performers' mouths. The groans become part of the music (and in the film itself—they were likely added after the fact). These asynchronous sounds call attention to the artificiality of the overall performance and the impossibility of extracting meaning from the sounds. A telephone doesn't directly deliver sounds; it reproduces and encodes them into electrical current. In the same way, the stage of Cafe Flesh is the medium to transform and transmit Angel's innocent sensuality, but something is lost in the connection. Afterwards, when she mingles with the audience members, she has reverted somewhat to her wholesome and naive self, but her previous persona of ingenue has been translated into glitz and choreographed movement, but little individuality. She has become an icon, a symbol, a vision.

Porno Pacing

It can be difficult to get the pacing right in a porn movie.

The typical viewer will fast forward through a lot; maybe the dialogue seems contrived or dull; maybe the viewer isn't particularly attracted to one actor or is barely interested in a particular coupling or sex position. Sometimes the same action is shown multiple times from different camera angles. Sometimes the actors seem to be going through the motions without seeming to experience sexual release. Sometimes a group scene can have too many different focal points and never allow the viewer to immerse oneself in the scene's physicality. Sometimes there is too much talking and not enough fucking.

Good camera work and editing can make a scene more watchable. So can decent music. Or they can be distracting. Cafe Flesh came out right before the VHS/VCR was becoming popular, so at least initially it was intended to be experienced in real time at a movie theater. Early viewers couldn't pause or fast forward through the boring parts. They had to sit through every scene as though it were a conventional movie.

Cafe Flesh had lots of characters and interesting sets and plot, so it was relatively easy to sit through everything—even though the sex scenes might seem too stylized to be savored for their titillation value. Indeed, early audiences sometimes demanded their money back because the movie didn't deliver the sexual depictions that they expected. Despite accusations that is wasn't sexy enough, in fact, there are hard core action and beautiful bodies, but it is intercut with isolated shots of Sex Negatives watching the scene and reacting in understated ways. It's almost like a watching a porn scene and every few seconds seeing a picture of yourself watching the scene. Nothing can be less erotic.

In fact, most of the sex scenes are quick (even with the random shots of Sex Negatives). Except for the final two-part Johnny Rico scene, almost every sex scene lasts 3-5 minutes, with Mitchell Froom's synthpop music providing the rhythm with artificial sound effects and movements that seem more choreographed than sexual. (In the telephone tableaux, the two men toss Angel the Virgin back and forth several times to imitate sexual movements before actually having sexual contact). Each sex scene unfolds differently, but it generally starts with the revealing of static elements onstage (sometimes people) which start moving or gyrating in some repetitive way. The camera switches back and forth between these onstage elements and Sex Negatives in the audience. Then it settles on the penetrations in slower and longer shots. The military lesbian tableaux does things slightly differently. During Max's rant, the camera starts with several static poses, then lingers on a series of pussy closeups and erotic caresses while Max's laughter continues to loop. Then suddenly it stops, and Max barks, "Hey, hey, hey—Show's Over."

In contrast, the two-part finale lasts a full 14 minutes (3.5 minutes for the opening, 1.5 minutes for the walk to the stage and 8 minutes for finale). It starts with the languorous melody and performers glancing at one another (and being casually observed by another woman reading a magazine underneath a hair dryer). When the tune introduces a conga-like beat, the performers start to move and pound; but as the melody winds away, the camera switches between Johnny Rico's mouth on Angel's derriere to random shots of audience members—settling eventually on the lap of Lana during her erotic transformation. Then the music changes to something slow and eerie. Lana walks ahead in slow-motion through the crowd to the stage and crawls onto the bed with the performers. The melody changes to something darker; every note is accompanied by a cymbal crash and whirling electronic noise. The camera lingers on the embracing females while Johnny Rico watches impassively. As the music continues to crash, Rico tears Angel away and starts pounding away at Lana. Lana looks ahead in a daze, and so do audience members (as does Nicky, who is silently being taunted by Max). Eventually Nicky is led away from the stage and the movie stops midframe while a dazed Lana stares into the crowd. The credits roll, and the music quickly pivots to upbeat peppy jazz.

The pace of these sex scenes differ radically from most porn scenes (even porn scenes from that era). This is accomplished through skillful editing, elegant blocking and careful synchronization between musical melodies and physical action. Most porn scenes—even well-done porn scenes—flow at a steady constant pace. There is minimal camera work and avoidance of overtly cinematic effects. Emphasis is on full lighting and getting the best angle on the private parts. Unlike Cafe Flesh, where sexual sounds seem more integrated into the music than the actual sexual performances, conventional porn simply records the spontaneous sounds of sexual excitement as a way to heighten the realism. That spontaneity can quickly become monotonous. In Cafe Flesh the pace depends less on the natural rhythm of the performers and more on the music and the characters' subjective emotional state. By movie's end, the pacing has slowed so much that the viewer is lulled into a meditative (and even hypnotic) state.

A Sea of Faces

The cafe audience of Sex Negatives plays an important role in Cafe Flesh. During the sex scenes, reaction shots from Sex Negatives interrupt the performance and prevent the viewer from losing oneself in the sensuality of a sex scene. (It might explain why early watchers found this movie to be anti-erotic). Many of the faces stare impassively at the performances; some seem agitated, and none really smile or hint at pleasure. These faces are not particularly attractive, but they aren't loathsome either. They just look ordinary. Aside from a handful of Negatives who actually have spoken lines, most have no backstory or identifiable relationships. Most of these faces seem lost, resigned and slightly disturbed. ^[14]

When I first watched the movie, I thought the close ups of Sex Negatives during sex scenes functioned merely to interrupt the sex scenes. Over time, as I rewatch this movie, I find the faces of these Sex Negatives fascinating and mysterious.

For many of the non-sex scenes, they stand motionless. There's a chilling scene where Enforcers arrive to "flush out Sex Positives" in the audience; as the camera pans across them, all the Sex Negatives sit completely still and without affect, as though trying to avoid unwanted scrutiny. One wonders how much of this catatonia is just an act designed to avoid suspicion. Certainly some Sex Negatives are capable of emotions and intelligent thought. Sex Negatives like Silky have distinct personalities and manners of talking. So do Mr. Joy the doorkeeper and Spike the advice-giving bartender and the bragging fan who recites a litany of famous boxing matches, concerts and sex performances that he has personally witnessed.

There are easily 30-40 Sex Negatives in the audience; some are sitting at tables while others are standing around. Even though most don't speak, each has peculiar mannerisms and dress. They blend into the background, yet each appears for a few seconds during erotic performances. The viewer is watching the watchers—watching them participate in the cafe's communal experience. At several times Max mocks and scolds Sex Negatives, yet he is a Sex Negative too whose only indulgences are his monologues and rants. For the most part, the Sex Negatives don't care; they barely react to Max's taunts and don't seem aware that they themselves are being watched. The Sex Negatives almost never react to one another but are transfixed by the Sex Positives onstage.

During the final Johnny Rico scene, Lana starts to become more than a little agitated as she licks her lips. At one point, the camera is on Nicky who is watching what is happening to Lana. With Max beckoning her on, Lana explodes with excitement (conveyed with quick closeups on her eyes and mouth). As Lana is drawn to the performance stage, all the Sex Negatives in the crowd wave her forward and show an unusual amount of excitement and glee at Lana's transformation. The hands and faces become animated and gyrate in some ritualistic dance. Even Max seems to have become caught up in the excitement; he is prancing about and waving his hands. This is really the first scene which celebrates the Sex Negatives; it is as if Sex Negatives are channeling remnants of their sexuality to Lana and (for a moment) Lana is electrifying them as well.

During the second part of the Johnny Rico scene (where Lana joins Angel and Johnny Rico in the sexual performance), the sexual energy of the Sex Negatives has changed. Suddenly each Sex Negative becomes electrified by the awareness of their sexual potential. That is, except for Nicky who is still watching things in a daze. Nicky is now aware of Lana's newly discovered potential, but seems incapable of feeling anything about it except numbness and shock. Even so, for the first time in the entire movie, a Sex Negative (Nicky) is sharing the frame with Lana as she performs with Johnny Rico. Perhaps this will always be the way Nicky reacts whenever Lana performs. He might not care about the sexual performances of random Sex Positives, but he does still care about Lana, and maybe this catatonia becomes a ritualistic response to her transformation.

All the Sex Negatives seem to live within themselves, and yet they are odd and striking. Almost all the Sex Negatives have flamboyant dress and individual characteristics (the cross dresser, the leering man, the effeminate man, etc.) I still have no idea what's going on with the pensive African-American dwarf in a dinner tuxedo, the three short men in white masks who snap their fingers as they enter the cafe, or the petite woman dressed in red who stands motionless behind Mr. Joy when Nicky is being led away. Or the angelic but silent woman who stands behind Max Melodramatic as he beckons Lana onstage (she has 8 seconds worth of screen time but is never seen again). They are all mysteries.

"Leaving So Soon, Friend?" (the movie's final line spoken by Mr. Joy while a stunned Nicky is dragged out of the cafe).

Enclosures

Enclosure and Separation are recurring motifs throughout this movie.

The Living Statue underneath the Bar. This nude woman (who is actually breathing) is ignored by all other denizens of Cafe Flesh.

Cafe Flesh is a giant enclosure, both to shield the outside world from the sexual cabaret and the inside world from the radioactive fallout outside. The large and heavy exit door is guarded by Mr. Joy, a sarcastic-sounding man whose friendliness is laced with contempt. A speechless and immobile nude woman crouches in front of a brightly lit open box built into the bar, alive and breathing but ignored by everybody throughout the movie. ^[15]

When one of the female Sex Positives caresses Lana's breast, Nicky watches the scene from another rectangular cubbyhole, sticking his head through like a dog poking his head through a hole in a fence. In one scene the camera spins through the empty cafe until it peeks through that same rectangular cubbyhole to reveal an image of Lana standing against the wall and caressing herself.

This motif appears overtly in the "Man in the Cage" tableaux. Even in the telephone tableaux, where Angel and two men are going at it vigorously, the central focus seems to be another scantily dressed woman who is "trapped" inside the phone booth and mimicking Angel's movements and expressions and grasping at invisible walls. When Mr. Joy prevents a visitor from entering Cafe Flesh, the visitor bribes him with a small bird cage with two live bird for Moms. "I wonder if they perform," Moms exclaims upon seeing them. The birds are likened to the sex performers who perform in captivity while outsiders gawk and enjoy.

The various enclosures might suggest being limited or trapped or isolated. Does it suggest a lack of freedom? Perhaps not. The enclosures in Cafe Flesh suggest the impermeability of different realities. Each person is in his or her own world, observed and observing, but never quite able to participate in the reality beyond the wall or cage. Every time Nicky leaves the cafe (presumably because he feels some kind of sexual arousal), Mr. Joy asks, "Leaving so soon, friend?" The question is facetious because Mr. Joy knows that Nicky is both impotent and addicted to the shows. But Nicky does have his freedom. He can come or leave Cafe Flesh any time he wants. Habit, erotic curiosity and love for Lana would bring Nicky back. Enclosures are a way to keep identities fixed and separate in an environment where they are melting and merging. They are a symbol of the second self responsive to desire but incapable of participating in this Pornotopian world and unable to alter its events.

Commodification implies that human needs can be divided into discrete parts and priced accordingly. Commodities are consumed, discarded and then bought again. A world full of enclosures implies that human needs can be similarly detached (but never discarded) from the self. The need disappears and reappears; the sex performance embodies one aspect of the human personality (like hate or lust or greed), but it loses any affinity with the individual human who projected it. This projection becomes unrecognizable; the only interaction possible between the human and the tableaux of desire is the on-off switch.

Next: Part 3: Gender Differences in Cafe Flesh

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