I've watched a lot of porn in my day, enough so that it's gotten just a little boring. Maybe you have to be male to appreciate the super-genital close-up cam? Or just a fetishist? What I liked about porn was, and I know this makes me a stereotypical girl, the story. The situations the girls would get themselves into - oh my! The anticipation, the (sometimes) danger of seduction - but so few films focus on those aspects. In any case I admit I'd grown a bit disenchanted with the genre.

And then I discovered the Voyeur series. Needless to say continuing to read this will take you into very un-worksafe territory.

There are many charming things about the Voyeur series. (You can just do a Google search to find it. Or you can rent many of the installments from Good Vibrations online.) First, it features naturally lovely ladies. I'd forgotten how beautiful real breasts are on film. These women will remind you. Second, the actors are all Eastern European but as it's produced for an English-speaking audience, they all talk (when there is dialogue) in endearingly stilted, yet always enthusiastic, tones.

But the best part is the hammy, over-the-top camerawork. Like that of Blair Witch, the camera is hand-held and its action is the action. It sneaks into houses through oh-so-carelessly left open doors; it peeks around shrubs and peeps into open windows; it peers around a corner and then scuttles around when it hears footsteps approach. And yes, it zooms in on the improbably hot and heavy action from the safe haven behind the couch, utterly hidden from the unaware lovers going at it on the floor.

And that technique proves marvelously immersive. Your heart beats as if the ménage à trois on the bed is going to look up and see you any moment - and those hairy Euro guys really look like they could beat you to a bloody pulp. You feel deliciously naughty for looking at something you shouldn't. Sometimes the camera will dwell long and longingly on a particularly luscious curve of ass, and you will be lulled into thinking you are just watching regular old porn - and then boom! suddenly the zoom unzooms, a bit of doorframe partially blocks your view, and you're back in the cameraman's shoes trembling with excitment.

There are a couple of lessons here I think. (Besides the one that says somehow a short ugly construction worker is going to be solicited by two gorgeous models each a foot taller than him if there is a camera at close range.) The camerawork plays so cleverly with the viewer's awareness of herself - something that game makers do unintentionally when they create awkward, frustrating interfaces or bad camera control. Usually that's the opposite of immersiveness. But in this case, the quality of feeling inside the film came from the camera's dexterity in placing me in awkward, difficult positions, crouching behind wicker chairs and whatnot to get the perfect angle. I found myself actually on the verge of craning my neck to get a better look - exactly as I do when playing FPS games or stealth games.

At the same time, the camera has a real presence as an avatar, an actor. When it scurried out of a house after the lovers reached climax, I wondered, did it find satisfaction? Or will it keep searching, pining for love, searching only for the next encounter? It inspired in me a great deal of sympathy, even pity. The dilemma of being the camera, watching pleasure but never getting it; behind the camera, never in front. By the end of four shorts, I felt bonded with the camera. I knew its tastes (it's an ass-man, definitely. And really likes leggy blondes.) I knew how cleverly it had infiltrated the suburban house, how it seemed to know the layout. This hinted at a history - did the camera know these houses, these people? Had it been watching them for a long time? Was this just gleeful opportunism, or a revenge taken on former lovers? I understood its desires, and to a certain extent I shared them. The depth of personality evoked by such simple technique, the effectiveness of the camera as both the agent and the vehicle of viewing pleasure, surprised me.

I began thinking about the point of view of many of my favorite games - I think one of the reasons I hate Summoner so much is that you have such poor control over your point of view - the camera swings wildly around and you can't see what you want to see. I always felt an odd sort of disconnect, too, when FMVs took over in certain games, especially Final Fantasy titles. Suddenly you're not in control at all anymore. Nor can you skip the cut scene! Argh.

I suppose it's fitting that a review of a porn film should end with musings on control. There's definitely a lot to be said for viewer control or player control as an important element of interactive experience. But I felt guided by the camera in Voyeur, as if it were leading me into the sensations and emotions of its world. It was letting me see and feel things outside of my normal experience, and isn't that why we consume art? That, and beautiful breasts.