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looks like, posing in front of the camera and losing his
hard-on. That’s just not very appealing, is it?”
What proportion of the men failed to get it up, then?
“About 66% were not able to perform. And between
you and me, I would have to say that if I were a bloke
I would have tremendous difficulty performing. I think
I’d get this performance anxiety attack and just fail.
And up to this day, I really wonder why a lot of the men
decided to do it. It’s bad enough to fail but it’s even
worse to fail on video, where their grandchildren could
check it out: ‘Oh my god, grandpa’s such a loser. He
couldn’t even get it up.’ Terribly embarrassing I would
think.”
Given that they were recruited through porn mags,
weren’t you at all concerned that the men would turn
out to be revolting, rancid weirdos? “Oh, they were
rather revolting, some of them. But the whole point of
the entire exercise was not to pick out 251 studs. It’s
more like the idea of the UN.”
I’m sorry? “You know, the United Nations. You get a
little bit of everything. A little sampling of every single
shape, size and, you know … colour, I guess.”
Weren’t you terribly sore afterwards? “Well, in actual
fact if you watch the four-hour gang bang tape itself,
you will realise that a lot of the things were fudged in
editing to make it look as though more sex took place.
So it really wasn’t that many men.”
Hang on. It says here that there were 251 of them.
BUY Annabel Chong films online from and
Have we been diddled? “But they just moved them
along really quickly. There was some humping, but not
quite that much. It’s actually less sex than if a woman is
having sex with a man for 10 hours straight. Now that’s
a lot of sex.”
Sex is a fascinating and occasionally unsettling film,
whose subject comes across as a complicated young
woman, alternately assertive and thoughtful, damaged
and deluded. The gang-bang itself is one of the least
erotic things you’ll ever see. Silvery pony-tailed Brit
director John Bowen, whose nom de porn is John T.
Bone, also acts as cock wrangler, leading the leering
fornicators in groups of five up onto a plinth where Ms
Chong waits to receive them. We also meet her creepy
middle-aged fan club organiser, some sneery rival porn
stars at a convention (“I do film noirs (sic),” sniffs
the star of Bitches of Hollywood), and watch Annabel
playing up to a Jerry Springer audience and charming
undergraduates at a Cambridge Union debate. But the
story behind the documentary turns out to be even
more fascinating. Nowhere is the viewer informed that
the director, Gough Lewis, was shagging his subject.
Now he’s apparently ‘gone AWOL’ and she’s agreed
to publicise the film to put right what she claims are
misrepresentations. What’s more, she’s now making
her own film about what it’s like to be the subject of
a documentary. “I get more self-reflective every day,”
she quips.
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