“Tell me more about this . . . exhibition.”
The word “exhibition” is double edged, carrying innocent connotations of art galleries alongside naughty ones of sexual showmanship. The action of Passion Canvas, set in a dreamy artworld of artists and their models, builds toward an exhibition that demonstrates both meanings. Along the way, it engages glancingly with the age-old question “Is porn art?”, but never to the point of distracting from the nitty-gritty of old-fashioned fun between the sheets.
In scene one, artist Bob Hudson is working on a nude painting with Tiffany Tatum as his model. Naked throughout, Tiffany’s character lolls around with no more self-consciousness than Eve before the fall. In this sense, Tatum is ideal casting, since pornstars themselves also must evince this easy, casual confidence in displaying their nude bodies. When Tiffany inspects Bob’s progress on the painting, she complains that its stark, two-tone silhouette is too abstract. Still, she’s curious about his other work, so the two of them sit down to inspect a portfolio of examples. Flushed with a sheepish, endearing excitement to be sitting next to a nude beauty, Bob flips through the pages before locking eyes with Tiffany. The abstract figure from his painting is about to solidify herself in concretely carnal terms. As they make love, the camera tracks in closely on Tiffany’s face to capture the intensity of her pleasure. The action focuses on rear penetration but climaxes with Tiffany bouncing atop Bob’s dick. Eschewing the usual porn tropes, Bob ejaculates internally into Tiffany, escalating the sense of intimacy between the two performers.
Scene two edges closer into exhibitionist territory, albeit in a subtle, artistic manner that suits the movie’s overall theme. In need of art supplies, Veronica Leal stops by a nearby shop only to find it inexplicably closed. When she peers into one of the windows, she sees why. Zazie Skymm and Raul Costa are making out inside the store. Annoyed but also impressed by their chutzpah, Veronica departs, leaving the audience as voyeur for this daring tryst. It’s a sexy sequence for anyone who has fantasized of a naughty fling in a forbidden location, be it the workplace or another public spot that brings a risk of getting caught. As in scene one, cowgirl is a prominent position, allowing the performers to stare hungrily into each other’s eyes. Though we don’t ultimately learn much about the context of this hookup, the chemistry of the performers conveys almost every thing we need know. It builds to a splattering, extended cumshot, as if paint spread onto a canvas of flesh.
In scene three, Dean Van Damme begs Veronica Leal to let him photograph her with a retro camera he chanced to acquire. Veronica reluctantly agrees, with the condition that she get a few indulgences in return. He complies, paying her back with a pleasurable romp that makes them quickly forget the naughty photoshoot that kicked it all off. Veronica’s oral mastery is one of the scene’s most inescapable elements. She attacks Dean’s dick with a fervor and zeal that makes it seem as if she’s trying to reinvent the blowjob from the ground up.
The final sequence of Passion Canvas takes place in an art gallery. As the spot where art is ultimately bought and sold, it’s an appropriate setting for what amounts to the movie’s collective moneyshot. Lia Lin plays a sweetly sincere reporter interviewing gallery curator Erik Everhard about the upcoming exhibition. He explains that the theme is “nature and the female body,” adopting a flirtatious tone that quickly signals his seductive intent. Like the couple in scene two, they consummate their passions in the exact spot where said passions first took hold. The gallery context invites us to view the sex almost like an elaborate, moving art installation.
Baskin’s bottom line
This is my first encounter with director David Menich, but if Passion Canvas is any indication, his palette is well suited for many a porn portrait in years to come. According to IAFD, he’s previously directed for brands like MetArt and JoyMii, whose high-minded artistic influence can be seen here. The world of art and artists, with its passionate players and inviting symbolism (brush as phallus, paint as semen, canvas as skin), is a perfect porn playground. The sex unfolds in a way that prioritizes in-the-moment connection of the actors as much as it does the conventional porn gaze. As Jack Nicholson’s Joker, himself a living work of twisted art, once memorably observed, “I don’t know if it’s art . . . but I like it.”
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