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The film might have done better in illuminating this corner if it had had the elementary courage to interview black or Latino performers, and to think about race as well as class.

Randy West—who otherwise seems fairly happy with his career—talks bitterly about the fact that most charities won't allow adult stars to donate to them.

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She says that during sex she would often feel like she was outside of herself looking down: a textbook description of dissociation from trauma.

She starts him off with the whole pick a card any card routine.

Even as it is, though, the film makes it clear that porn for many performers was a way out of a dilemma—or, for some, a way to compound it.

Really, based on this documentary, the problems porn workers encounter seem like problems lots of workers encounter: abusive working conditions, inadequate or more often non-existent pensions, and lack of options.

For someone like her to need the approval of someone like them is an apocalyptic admission of neediness that's depressing to think about.

But it's not necessarily different in kind from the antipathy and contempt that workers in general face.

Karen responds that she doesn't.

And even the Mensa thing—yes it strikes me as pitiful, but is it really any more ridiculous than me looking at my blog's statcounter? Porn is sensational, more or less by definition, but it doesn't necessarily follow that it's distinctive or central.

But at the same time, it's clear that if you're a former adult performer a lot of people are going to judge you—and you can see how, living with that, having Mensa declare you worthy might pack a certain punch.