Deepfake Porn Doc is not as deep as you thought – The Hollywood Reporter
Deepfake images, created by animation software that seamlessly morphs faces so the average viewer can’t tell who is real or fake in a video, have the power to change the social and political landscape forever. (In an age where electoral foes call each other “fake news” all day long, this technology will actually be able to manipulate millions soon enough.)
However, deepfakes are now rampant – in pornography. Free porn sites are full of videos of adult artists with the faces of celebrities, which is not surprising, but ordinary people too. Nor did they consent to the use of their visions in sexual scenarios.
another body
bottom line
It works better as a detective story than a social study.
Sophie Compton and Robin Hamlin An intriguing but slightly underwhelming documentary another body Follows an angry college student and her search for justice when she learns her likeness has been stolen for use in fake porn. Through interviews, animations, and videos, the subject filmed herself in real time as she unearthed this mystery, and the filmmakers were able to capture the emotional turmoil of such a discovery, but they don’t delve into the gendered reasons why this kind of sexism could hurt someone. For a film about such a critical issue — and there’s no doubt it is one — I was surprised to find myself turned off by the pearl-weaving nature.
That said, there’s quite an early development and I’m going to spoil it for you in a few paragraphs, so stop here if you don’t want to know what makes another body It stands out from the typical moral panic documentary.
The movie opens on Taylor Klein, a young engineering student. In fact, the film opens to videos of Taylor’s childhood, a tactic to convey how awful this innocent young child would end up being violated by something as insidious as identity theft for porn (perhaps the cinematic equivalent of a male public figure talking about how he has girls This is why he advocates for women’s rights.) Taylor is intrigued by her love of math and science and how she comes from a family of engineers, which influenced her to pursue this field. “Like, I was stressed about getting into college when I was 12.” That’s, of course, how we know she’s super serious, career-oriented, and not the totally awful type who flaunts herself for public consumption. Taylor constantly apologizes for using language like “fuck” — as if she needs to publicly distinguish herself from the rude women who swear regularly.
Through dramatic replays of IM conversations, we see an acquaintance alert Taylor to the fact that her face (on someone else’s body) has been plastered all over Pornhub – along with her real name, real college location, and her supposed desire to meet Internet randos. Taylor noticed that something strange was going on weeks earlier, as strangers had started messaging her on Instagram with her provocative interview. Naturally, she is shocked and humiliated when she sees herself basically stripped in such a way that she could invite predators to come to her, afraid that someone will show up in her bedroom to assault her. She also worries that this might ruin her chances of getting a good job after she graduates, which the filmmakers never delve into.
Because of the esoteric legal entanglements, there is not much the police can or will do to her because the perpetrator and the host sites did not violate any current law. Scared and alone, she knows that if she tells her friends or creates any kind of public uproar, it will only draw more viewers to her deepfakes. She eventually hears through the grapevine that this has also happened to another classmate, Julia, and the two young women team up to see who among the subscribers will have the technical skills and incentive to hurt them. Their journey takes them exactly where you might suspect if you’ve been paying attention at all to popular culture in the past ten years, but that doesn’t make them boring.
Less than a quarter of the way through the hour-and-twenty-minute film, Taylor’s face suddenly changes, her features morphing several times into different young women as she explains, “So, my name’s not Taylor and sy-really technology isn’t a real college. All of this footage is of me but the face you’re seeing right now.” It’s not actually my face, it’s an actor’s face draped deep over mine.” Readers, my jaw dropped.
Remaining anonymous is the only way she feels safe telling her story, and this game that the filmmakers play by tricking the audience at first and then making us constantly rate the images we see afterward is a great tool for articulating the crisis wrought by deepfakes. . Because aside from noticing some weird odd angles, there’s no way I could tell “Taylor” wasn’t Taylor at all.
At the same time, the trick almost backfired, because at one point I did Briefly The question of whether this story is true at all. (I don’t really doubt the fact that it’s real, but it just so happened that, uh, it occurred to me that it could be Go ask Alice– a kind of fairytale rallying cry. I wouldn’t have considered it at all if the directors hadn’t proven how easy it is for them to fool me with their deepfakes.)
another body It works better as a detective story and falters as a social study. The film refuses to separate sexuality from non-consensual sex, so it creates a false narrative that Taylor and Julia must be pure, non-sexual subjects in order to feel empathy for them. We watch them search a porn site as part of their investigation, denouncing the performance of even being in this digital space at all, as if they were afraid of being judged for it. We know nothing of their background or values, so they become the virtuous “all women” the movie needs.
At one point, Taylor opened up about her OCD and why that turned her into a “fun person.” I wanted to know who exactly she was worried about because she didn’t like being the victim of such abuse.