This documentary about a transgender porn star turns out to be a portrait of a divided self, but not quite how you’d expect. Two personalities vie inside Massachusetts-based adult performer Tara Emory: zeppelin-bosomed sci-fi sex kitten, and grease monkey/compulsive hoarder. Director Laurence Turcotte-Fraser’s intimate and ever-so-wistful study thankfully bypasses current trans-related bloodletting and even to a large degree questions of gender definition; instead this film concentrates on a purely individual problem: Emory’s battle with the “entropic” clutter threatening to overwhelm her life.
The lithe, rangy Emory is a mid-40s veteran of DIY internet porn, crafting bespoke photoshoots and making personal appearances in Victoriana, Barbarella and other shades of kitsch. But supporting her fantasy existence is real-world scaffolding: a trove of bric-a-brac and flotsam filling Wonderland, the rented barn-cum-studio where this intensely creative self-starter works. Emory apparently inherited this malady from her father, a Volkswagen mechanic who filled the family property with dozens of vehicles, nominally for use in salvage projects that never quite happened. (She still wears earrings made from Volkswagen keys.)
