BLUE MOVIE

This debut memoir follows a gay man’s sexual exploration in front of and behind the movie camera as well as his battle with drug addiction.

Ferris, who was born in 1987, had his first sexual encounter with a high school classmate. This boy became his first crush, too, though the author’s already low self-esteem took a hit when his friend betrayed him. Ferris opted for sex with strangers by the time he was at a San Francisco college and soon moved to porn films, performing under the name Blue Bailey. At the same time, he dove deeply into substance abuse, with meth his drug of choice. Before the author was even 20 years old, a doctor diagnosed him as being HIV-positive. He was the one to console his family over this news; it was not the “death sentence” it once was, and those who were “POZ” like Ferris could still have active sex lives. He continued his adult-film career and gained some fame from one particular 2014 movie: Viral Loads. That was mostly due to its marketing campaign, which failed to clarify that star Blue Bailey, who engaged in sexual acts with HIV-positive performers, was POZ himself. Ferris later enrolled in law school and became an attorney. Even with his porn days behind him, his sex life was energetic and occasionally experimental. Sadly, his meth addiction was a never-ending fight; he’d manage to kick it but then fell back into the drug’s merciless trap. He aspired to be an activist lawyer, and that meant staying sober even when temptations surrounded him.

Ferris’ concise account is an unflinching look at his turbulent life that, as he warns readers, teems with graphically detailed sex scenes. He champions sex—and all the fetishes it entails—between consenting partners as well as normalizing gay sexuality. But the author highlights the downsides as well; using “liquid Viagra” on a movie set incited multiple trips to the emergency room, and one unnerving sexual escapade ended with his arrest for murder. None of this is exploitative, as the book’s 77 “scenes” feel like snapshots of the author’s life. Moreover, Ferris’ conversational narration frames all that he experienced in a stylish but uncompromising fashion: “I slip the needle in, thread my vein, and pull the plunger back. A plume of red. I am registered. I am an octopus inking through the water. Red is my safe word. Red means stop. Now, red means go. I am ready. Go.” The author’s support for the gay community and his “POZ brothers” is uplifting, and he brings to light some critical medical issues involving HIV-positive individuals. Much of the book nevertheless wallows in gloominess. His self-confidence, for example, continually wavered, and his meth addiction caused perpetual misery, sometimes leading to suicidal thoughts. Ferris also brushes past certain people in his life, from his barely mentioned partner, Sean, to his loving and sympathetic extended family. On the other hand, he includes a handful of personal photographs along with a copy of his witness statement after his arrest.

This account of sex and substance abuse pulls no punches as it shocks and enlightens.