The notion of doctor-patient relationships have always captured my imagination, and not merely because of my propensity for depicting “creepy sexual attractions.”  In our culture (and others), doctors of all kinds have historically been regarded as almost mystical in their abilities. Doctors represent a special type of authority figure – one who doesn’t force us to follow rules, but is rather concerned with our health, our well being, our sanity. Doctors pay special attention to what make our minds and bodies work, and keep working – and they’re our only hope when something inside us goes terribly wrong.

Still, I’d venture to say we feel more vulnerable in the presence of a psychologist than we do when wearing the famously undignified open-back hospital smock awaiting our “physical.” From the neck down our bodies are a source of primal pleasure and pain, but to break an arm is not to feel altered to our very core.  With a broken arm I can still think, talk, reason, and feel: my “self” is essentially untouched.

Our minds, however, are US: our egos and fears, our desires and secrets. Our minds hold the key to what we do when we’re alone and unwatched in the privacy of our homes, and to what lands we travel in the privacy of our thoughts.  To allow a stranger access to who we “really” are is the ultimate act of trust and submission; and to give her the power to influence our future is both comforting and dangerous.  As we take solace in the fact that we’re not alone on our journey, we forget that we may be accompanied by a madman.

This is because at the end of the day, a psychotherapist – like a priest or policeman – is still a human being. While the framed certificates and degrees placed prominently on office walls assure us of a therapist’s credibility, it says nothing of their egos, fears, or secret desires.

Chastity Lynn and Rocco Reed in "The Psychotherapist"

In “The Psychotherapist” we meet a variety of characters, both entertaining and disturbing: the delusional televangelist (Evan Stone) who uses religion to rationalize sexual trysts with his gorgeous assistant (Sophie Dee); a pathological young man (Rocco Reed) who revels in an incestuous affair with his beautiful young sister (Chastity Lynn); and a sinister, sultry young man (Seth Gamble), who effortlessly arouses the improper desires of his much older therapist (played brilliantly by Vanilla Deville.)

Dyanna Lauren and Seth Gamble in "The Psychotherapist"

As human beings we’re doomed to exist as tortured hybrids; engaged in an endless struggle between intellect and impulse; virtue and desire. Our animal needs must be met, yet are often carry a terrible, self-imposed price. In Hard Candy Films’ “The Psychotherapist” we examine the dark, lascivious place between what our conscious minds know we should do, and what our animal selves feel we must do.

Director Nica Noelle, Hard Candy Films

In my daily correspondence with fans, I often receive questions about my work and my life. For instance, fans want to know from where I draw the inspiration for my films, what casting strategies I use, or even how a woman like me managed to break into a “male-dominated industry” and become a success.

So I’ve put together a list of questions submitted by fans, and I’ll be responding to each of them right here. You can find a new question and my response every week, along with some beautiful photography from my upcoming films.
Please enjoy — and feel free to leave comment!

CEO at IVY League Films (@KPlayboi) asks: What camera do you use in your productions?

NICA: I use the Sony EX1.

A lot of people, a lot of directors, encouraged me to switch to the Canon 5D because it gives such a “cinematic result.” I even wrote an article for Xbiz Magazine a year or so back about how much excitement the 5D was causing among adult filmmakers when it first came on the scene. And when James Cameron started working with me as a cameraman he made a strong case for switching to the 5D.

Nica Noelle directing on the set of "Mother's and Sons"

So we did a test shoot, using the 5D to shoot a sex scene. We had James and director Kevin Moore on camera – two very experienced 5D operators. But upon viewing the footage, I decided pretty quickly that the 5D is all wrong for shooting my kind of sex scenes. For dialogue it’s beautiful; it’s similar to film stock — a very cinematic look, just as everyone says.

But for shooting sex – I have a specific philosophy about how the sex should look, and the 5D is probably the last camera you’d use to achieve that. First of all, there’s no autofocus so it constantly blurs out as you move around. Controlled, intentional blurring results in that “cinematic, artsy” affect the 5D is famous for, but I don’t want artsy sex scenes. I don’t want a viewer to feel that he’s watching the sex through a camera lens – not even a fancy, “cinematic” camera lens.

Another problem I noticed upon viewing the 5D demo was that the motion cadence was affected. The speed of motion during sex seemed just a beat too slow. It was something I felt viscerally rather than noticed on a visual level. My gut reaction was “Something’s wrong with the timing.” It affected the energy of the scene; the sense of immediacy and urgency – which makes sense because the 5D is a real camera and is taking stills, which is a different (and slower) process than recording true video.

So, I think the Sony EX1 is a perfect compromise. It can achieve a very beautiful, cinematic look during the narrative portions of the movie, but it can also accommodate movement and motion and capture the sex scenes the way I want to capture them.

And for me, the sex scene IS the movie. I’m not shooting Gone with the Wind – I’m shooting the sex between Rhett and Scarlett that you never got to see. I’m not going to compromise the sex scene so I can show you the majestic sunset with Scarlett O’Hara shaking her first at the sky.

I’m a pornographer; my priority is to sexually arouse you, not visually astound you.

Nica Noelle's "A Mother's Love"

Sometimes fans ask me why I write so many “older/younger”-themed films: what is it about May-December romances that inspire me to such feverish levels of artistic expression?

With the debut of my first Hard Candy Films feature, “A Mother’s Love” (starring Vanilla Deville, Dane Cross, Xander Corvus, Evan Stone and Zoe Voss), I thought I’d take the opportunity to analyze my passion for older/younger love stories (and, of course, older/younger sex scenes!)

This requires a bit of backstory.

I’m now in the age group of women commonly – and a bit creepily – referred to as “Cougars,” but for most of my life I preferred older men. In fact, most of my long-term relationships were with men at least a decade older – and far more successful – than I. As an inexperienced young woman, I found the age gap to be a huge turn on: older men knew so much; they’d DONE so much. They had serious, important jobs and post-graduate degrees. Instead of t-shirts and ripped jeans, they wore button up shirts and tailored suits, and some could even quote Shakespeare (from memory!).  For an intellectually curious young woman with a raging libido, older men held a certain mystique I found irresistible.

I was in my mid-thirties and involved with someone who fit this “older man” fantasy to a T, when I met, completely by chance (or was it fate?) a much younger man.  Though well beyond “the age of legal consent,” he was still so much younger than I, that I often referred to him as “the Boy.”

“The Boy”had reached out to me due to his interest in a topic on which I was writing a magazine article. We began emailing, and then talking on the phone, about my research and developing hypothesis.

Vanilla DeVille and Dane Cross in 'A Mother's Love'

Then, as the days went on, we began talking about other things: Our lives. Our families. Our dreams.

I didn’t stop to consider what was happening between us. Technically, he was young enough to be my son, and the notion that our friendship could trigger anything “romantic” was unthinkable to me.  It was probably for that reason that I didn’t exercise the caution I would have in getting so close to a man my own age. After all, it was so innocent and charming – I was just “playing big sister” to him. At least that’s what I told myself.

But whatever the nature of our bond, we soon became inseparable.

The man I was dating was a bit unnerved by my “totally platonic — really” relationship with the young man who’d entered my life so suddenly and intensely. But as I grew ever-closer to the Boy, I couldn’t help but notice how he easily he filled the many voids within me. (No pun intended – at least not yet!) I’d never known anyone so much like me.

While my “older man” criticized my taste in architecture and home decor (something that caused me great anxiety, as I couldn’t imagine us ever decorating a home together), the Boy and I shared a love for old English manors and craftsman houses. We both loved taking walks at night and going on long, aimless drives. We could spend hours wandering in antique book stores, and discovered we often wanted to see the same movies. We even shared an interest in Czarist Russia (what were the odds?!)

As time went on, I found myself becoming less available for my “older man” so I could spend more time with the Boy, whom despite his youth and inexperience, seemed to effortlessly “get” me.

Then one winter night, as we lay on my living room floor watching DVDs, I began to drift off to sleep.  After what couldn’t have been more than a moment or two, I awakened to the sensation of soft, full lips gently pressing against mine.

I sat up, and we stared at each other. My heart was beating so fast I thought he might actually hear it. Then he took my hand.

I’d never confessed as much to anyone as I did to him, in the moment of silence that followed. We stared into each other’s eyes, an internal wave of emotion and desire temporarily paralyzing us.

And then, finally, we kissed again. A real kiss.

Within seconds, we were making out on the floor like two desperate, fumbling teenagers.

We didn’t make love. I was still committed to another man, and I took sexual indiscretions seriously. But once the Boy had gone home and I began changing into my nightgown for bed, I discovered my panties were soaking wet.

I hadn’t been so intensely turned on in years. Maybe ever.

Chastity Lynn and Xander Corvus in 'A Mother's Love'

While I certainly felt deep affection for my young suitor, my wet panties told of a lust more powerful than I’d ever before experienced. I realized it was the excitement of — after months of internal struggle and obvious denial – finally tasting the “forbidden fruit” and feeling his unexpectedly powerful arms hold me while his hard cock pressed against my clothed body, that made our encounter unbearably erotic.

In ‘A Mother’s Love,’ Vanilla’s character is the quintessential Nurturing Mom: Warm, well-meaning, compassionate; protective. She doesn’t want or expect the physical attraction she feels to Dane when he returns from college. I wanted Vanilla’s every smile and glance to betray the battle between conscious mind and animal desire taking place inside her.

I handpicked Vanilla for this role because of her warmth and smoldering sexuality. She brought the tormented, vulnerable Mom to life more beautifully than I’d ever hoped.

For Dane’s character, I needed a performer who could convey the struggle of a man old enough to fall in love with his “second Mom,” but young enough to recklessly throw caution to the wind and risk everything for one night of passion with her.

Zoe Voss in 'A Mother's Love'

I tend to leave my characters’ fate a mystery when my movies fades to black. So, every once in a while a fan will write to me and ask “what I think happened” to certain characters after their final sex scene.  In the case of “A Mother’s Love,” do Vanilla and Dane stay together after the explosive orgasms? Or does Vanilla return to her “age-appropriate” lover and Dane to college, with neither to speak of the encounter again?

I can’t say, or maybe it’s just that I don’t want to. Perhaps this hard-core “science girl” is, at heart, superstitious about love and doesn’t want to tempt Life (mine) to imitate Art (mine).

But I can tell you this:

It’s been almost six years since I shared that first kiss with The Boy, and he’s now, of course, very much a man. But when I awaken in his arms after a night of delicious sex and multiple orgasms, I see him across the years. To me, he’ll always be the forbidden, enchanted young man who stole a first kiss while I lay sleeping – and who still makes my panties incredibly wet.

On that note, please enjoy my first Hard Candy Films feature movie, “A Mother’s Love.” And remember to look for love in unlikely places.

NN