“A playful, humorous, and thoughtful film that is more interested in the people it celebrates than the sex that they have; it is all the better for it”

A tall, dark and handsome Caucasian man walks into a studio against a green screen, where a title card overlay reads “Mein Freund der Pornostar,” and a director/photographer coaches him to express different emotions on his face. Obviously this man is the titular star, right? Wrong! Moments later, he’s introduced as Aaron, an actor. Moments later, this man’s face is superimposed onto a naked body, always confined in a hazy square that doesn’t match the rest of the photography in the frame. There’s a distinct reason for this: Timo wants to make and star in a sex film; his friend Rosa, the director and co-star of this film, wants to document the whole process. It’s a mismatch of sensibilities and goals, and a fantastic set-up for what culminates in a very unusual and interesting film.

Eighteen months later, at Berlin’s Venus Expo (an adult entertainment convention and trade show), holding a penis-shaped microphone, Rosa is seen interviewing (mostly female) porn stars about their impressions of and experiences working in the porn industry. One actress tells Rosa, “You need to be brave, and you need to be able to give over your whole life. Because you have no privacy.” This is a very prescient moment: Timo will eventually get cold feet, and wants to leave the film, which explains why Aaron’s face is now attached to Timo’s body: Rosa has had to reshoot all of Timo’s scenes with Aaron’s participation.

This means that it is necessary for Rosa to pivot, but this becomes a blessing in disguise, as it challenges her to be even more ambitious, creative and adventurous, giving her the opportunity to broaden the scope of her film by welcoming and including a more diverse array of perspectives and experiences. It also helps the film find a more definite structure, dividing it into seven distinct themed “chapters,” giving other (often stigmatized) workers in the porn industry a platform to share their experiences and perspectives in a way that encourages introspection, really giving these artists the chance to sort out and express their very personal, philosophical observations.

Friedrich’s film has plenty of nudity and is certainly sex positive, celebrating all kinds of sexual kinks, tastes, and identities (a dominatrix, food porn creator, a sex coach, and a few trans women get to shine in the more documentary-like moments of My Friend the Porn Star), but sex is never particularly explicit (though still maybe unsuitable for conservative tastes), or titillating (the internet is full of actual pornography for that!). As Friedrich develops her account of Timo’s fallout with the project, My Friend the Porn Star becomes more and more about Friedrich’s interests and ideas as a filmmaker, and is a touching example of how to find the silver lining in a setback, as Friedrich’s creativity becomes even more fundamental to the success of her project. This is a playful, humorous, and thoughtful film that is more interested in the people it celebrates than the sex that they have; it is all the better for it.