Small Town Girl, Chloe Cherry

September 27, 2023

Why aren’t there more up-and-coming actresses as imperturbable as Chloe Cherry? Then, it’d be easier to prove that she’s a standout. She’s a total punk and a steady beam of light well on her way to doing some major things. At 18, she moved from a religious rural neighborhood in South Eastern, Pennsylvania to Miami, Florida to work alongside some of the adult film industry’s biggest studs and starlets, eventually working in a film that parodied the lesbian romance in Sam Levinson’s acclaimed show about pharmaceutically-fueled teenagers in trouble, Euphoria. Funny thing is Levinson saw the parody. Afterwards, he reached out to have her star in Euphoria’s second season where she played Faye, a lollipop-wielding bombshell whose charming observations — whenever she snaps out of a hazy, dissociated state — gave viewers, and her drug dealer boyfriend, a comedic sigh of relief. Some situations on TV are so crazy these days, you know?

Interview by Johnny Belknap
Photos by Anna Bloda

Cherry’s brightness comes through as a total constellation. She writes poetry and maintains close connections with her muses, makes collages from old fashioned women’s magazines, and dishes on the adult film industry’s secrets to having voluminous sex on podcasts with mental health advocate Eileen Kelly and writer/model Emily Ratajkowski. I can’t wait for what Hollywood collabs she has next. Cherry is one of the few post-It Girl actresses that has sincere cinema afterglow. And, she makes you feel like you're in the presence of supreme coolness.

Chloe Cherry— I can't talk about Euphoria or any current or past Hollywood projects that I've done. I stand in solidarity with my union and what they are fighting for.

Johnny Belknap— That’s right, okay. Weird times.

It’s really weird. We could talk now or just have this conversation again when the strike is over.

Cool. Let’s chat now.

Yeah, that would be great.

You’re been in the Hollywood film industry now after some years in the adult film industry. Your shift from the former to the latter began right before the 2023 SAG-AFTRA strike. What has that been like?

It’s really weird timing for me. I got into the industry and there's suddenly a strike. It's really weird. But, the writers and actors have to stand in solidarity during this important time. There's so many issues that my peers have finally vocalized for and mobilized around.

For sure. I’m happy to hear that people are paying attention. Writers are under-compensated and under-resourced. I like when actor and national president of SAG-AFTRA, Fran Drescher, asked what everyone was doing taking advantage of writers all the while doing what, “moving around furniture on the Titanic?” We hit the iceberg; the furniture sinks along with the rest of the stuff hanging onto an old system. Those who are looking out for one another are building something new and that’s exciting; I’m hopeful about where things could go next. Do you do any writing yourself?

People tell me to write a book so I’ve thought about writing one. I haven't tried writing scripts but I would try that one day, too. The only writing that I've really done is sketches. I write those for my Instagram and stuff.

Would your book be a novel or a memoir?

I want to write a memoir.

You totally should.

It would be cool just because there's a lot to talk about. My career starts off in the adult film industry. I was in it for like six years and I really enjoyed it. I'm not in it anymore. If I wrote a book I want to explain to people how the adult film industry works.

Watching adults on film do the deed is something many of us do all the time. Like, we watch it at least several times a week, if not every other day, or more. I’d love to learn more about it.

Totally.

There doesn’t seem to be too much conversation about the adult film industry beyond those working in it or the text I see on my laptop screen: Cum Inside, Domination, Big Cock, Natural, Cucked. People love to categorize and fantasize. But, there’s got to be so much more stuff to talk about. In another interview you’ve done, you shared about the industry’s #METOO movement and how that’s provided a real sense of accountability in the industry.

The me too movement in porn was huge. We had our own me too movement in about 2020 where every girl in porn shared on twitter their personal stories about anything non consensual that happened to them. It was a lot like the Hollywood me too movement. Directors that abused their power, co stars that were too rough.

Was working in the adult film industry your first job?

I briefly worked in restaurants before working in the adult film industry. Restaurant and food service work is really, really hard. It’s very physically demanding and I was so bad at it.

Right? Restaurant work is super demanding. It’s exhausting managing so many different appetites. So, I guess, what did you like about working in the adult film industry?

I really liked the amount of freedom that it brought me. One thing was the schedule and freedom. I was able to work a couple days a month and had so much free time for myself and time to see others.

That rocks.

Another thing that I liked was the different types of people I met. Just like, I don't know, it was cool to connect with people. I got to learn about my sexuality and my scene partners got to learn about their sexuality. We got to learn about each other’s sexuality. That kind of openness is like not shared so often beyond romantic or strictly sexual partners. I mean, for me, personally I enjoyed confirming that I was bisexual by shooting lesbian scenes. I figured out I liked a lot of different stuff. But mostly the biggest one was that I’m bisexual.

What was memorable was how passionate people were. The performers especially took pride in their work and worked very hard. Just like any part of the entertainment industry people would have crazy workout regimes and diets. Performers would practice what they wanted to do on camera. They invested in their wardrobe. Performers had good relationships with directors which got them more work (I mean friendships not sexual). And the directors put in long hours and lots of effort. A lot of performers were on call at all times meaning their agent could call them any day and they would go do a scene. I did that a lot. Porn taught me how to be a hard worker.

A lot of performers were on call at all times meaning their agent could call them any day and they would go do a scene. I did that a lot. Porn taught me how to be a hard worker.

That sounds special and a lot less stressful than keeping up appearances in the way you have to do while working in a restaurant. It’s physically exhausting to keep a smile on for all the eaters. It’s like restaurant workers are the ultimate vibe curators. Let’s back up some. What was growing up like? Were you close with your family?

My mother always said I had a talent to wear what’s going to be in style before it is. And in Pennsylvania, where I grew up, people didn’t know trends. Not like they do in New York and London. I’ve been parting my hair in the middle since middle school. People made fun of me for it back then but now it’s totally in.

Where did you grow up?

I grew up in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Pennsylvania was very religious and traditional. People also said the strangest things. My favorite was once in school when a teacher was asking us students to name every continent and one boy said, “Texas.” He actually thought it was a continent. Another time a teacher asked us to share about our families and a boy told a story of his lineage and the teacher asked “what side of the family is that from?” And he answered “the left side of the family.”

No way. I totally recognize that kind of mixed up language-speak. I went to middle school and high school near Lancaster and I recently spent some time out there. It’s quite a provincial place and I think those of us that leave it still have a close relationship to its funny language-speak. M. Night Shyamalan, Taylor Swift, Jonathan Groff, Pink.

I really didn't love it but I've grown to appreciate it. What were you doing there?

Hanging out with my sister. Jumping into therapy. Writing some fiction. I’d wake up every morning to a hot pot of Wawa coffee and watch the horse and buggy of Amish and Mennonite children roll down the street. You always know they're coming because you hear the horse’s trot: clip-clop, clip-clop.

And there’s horseshit, like, everywhere. What were you writing?

I’m trying to tell a story where a bunch of characters take Viagra all the time. It’s funny that it’s a drug that redirects blood flow. There’s something sort of vampiric about it. At one point in the story, a character's vision goes totally blue, it’s called cyanopsia. It’s a bewildering side effect of Viagra.

Sounds so fun.

I had this realization a few years ago that so many people take it. Someone’s dad, their daddy, or a trans dude; a John or his hustler; a doll or a porn star. I know some cis girls that take it with their boyfriends, too. They have weekend-long bedroom adventures.

I was gonna say Viagra is really popular in the adult film industry.

Yeah. What is your experience with it?

I remember guys that were new to the industry would show up on set and they would take it. They would be so nervous that it still wouldn't work and their face would get really, really red. They would be really sweaty, too.

Did you ever get nervous while on set?

I wouldn’t really ever get nervous. I guess, maybe, I would get nervous with higher-end porn. I would get kind of nervous that I wasn’t gonna perform well enough for the bigger scenes for the more popular companies. I was nervous but I was also, like, excited.

Were there co-workers were you really excited to work with?

My favorite male actor was probably Small Hands and my favorite female actor was probably Lola Faye.

Small Hands is pretty sexy. Guys covered head-to-toe in tattoos get it: Boomer Banks, Big Harry, Jack Delany. There’s something about being so visually marked up that translates to me as fleshy vulnerability. I don’t know. Do you miss porn at all?

I guess so. What I miss about the adult film industry is that it was always going on. You didn’t have to wait so long between work. Like, that industry is always happening. It’s not like filming a movie or walking Fashion Week. Currently, I have a lot of free time between things.

What have you been doing with your free time?

I’m reading Happy Go Lucky by David Sedaris. David Sedaris is my favorite author. I’ve been making art. I've been hanging out with friends and hiking. I just got a dog so I’ve been taking care of him.

What kind of dog?

I got a Dalmatian.

What's his name? I imagine him being a nice companion when out picketing.

His name is Domino. He is really nice.

Domino: tall and thin with beautiful ink spots. Tell me a little about art-making.

I make collages. There’s this discontinued magazine called Penthouse Forum Magazine from the 2000s, and it has really raunchy stuff in it. My dream is to have people send me their songs while they're in the studio making albums. Then, I can make a collage based on the songs they send.

Totally. Would Shygirl or 100 gecs or wait even like Charli XCX send you stuff? You could do one of their next album covers or something.

Yeah, that'd be so fun.

What do you have coming up?

Mostly working a lot. I have a few indie movies that I am working on so there’s a lot of shooting in the coming months.

Do you have to travel for the shoots?

Yeah. We’re shooting in London, New Mexico, Rome, and Greece. I really hope things get worked out and the writers get paid fairly soon. Also, I hope that actors get paid fairly, too. Actors don’t get paid what they used to get paid. Many actors can’t get by on just acting anymore. It’s pretty crazy.

How has your summer been?

It’s been fine. I guess I want to talk a little about Angus. I really miss him. He is missed by so many people. It’s really sad.

I’m sorry. It must have been quite a shock. You guys were fairly close?

It was really shocking. When I first heard about it I thought it was fake news. I was like this is fake news, like, there’s no way that can happen. It has been really hard. He was one of my closest coworkers and confidantes during that time. It's like a special thing that happens, you know, when you get to know someone like that.

The experience of loss or grief distorts stuff like so much. Things slip. Interactions have a sudden scripted quality to them. People you know get quiet and quiet people speak at you, for you. Loss or grief doubles up inside you in this way. After experiencing bouts of loss or grief, I’ve reminded myself to slow time down a little and be present, especially with friends. Take a second cigarette. Give a sixty second hug. Talk in bed with someone you love for three hours straight. Eat all day, dance all night. It’s good to make people feel good. People love to feel good.

Yeah, it's really important. I've been trying to be better about keeping closeness and being in contact with people. It’s so easy to forget.

What’s now, what’s next?

Right now it’s three indie movies. But, we’re waiting.

If you commit to the bit, babe, you’ve got it. Do you have any dream roles? Or, is there anyone you’d want to play in a biopic?

I would love to play Dolly Parton.

Absolutely.

Playing her would be a dream. She’s like nobody else. She’s so cool. I know about her lore, you know? It’s interesting.

I see. What kind of music are you listening to right now?

I'm listening to Tommy Genesis. I’m listening to Frank Ocean and Baby Keem. I’m listening to Padam Padam by Kylie Minogue. Oh, and 100 gecs.

They’re so good. What about you? Would you ever do an EP or album? That process of collaborative art making seems up your alley.

I’m actually working on a song with this NYC artist Blaketheman1000. He’s really talented and he thinks I should do an EP or album. But, I’m not sure yet if I will. I think I’m decent at writing lyrics and poems but not very musically skilled in a technical way.

Tell me about the poems.

I used to write poetry back in high school. I wrote this one:

This is an apology to us both
For how much I loathe you and lost your trust You told me "use this as a chance for growth" Now it's all interplanetary dust
I told you I was drowning in darkness

Just looking at you felt sensational
Until you became nothing but harshness
You were never even motivational

I can't help myself from adoring you

Your kisses used to feel like warm honey

You once turned so cold out of the blue

Then you gave me up like ransom money With a kind heart and soft facial features

You turned into the cruelest creature

That was after my boyfriend and I broke up. He went away to college and of course it was too hard to keep dating at that point.

There’s always that one relationship that ends because of “bad timing.” Which, in a way, is its own self-fulfilling prophecy. Timing isn’t something that can be so easily pinned down with dualistic thinking. I.e. good timing, bad timing, yada yada. You can’t really plan ahead for things like girlfriends, boyfriends, and other types of best friends.

That poem really summed up my feelings on it. Then I fell in love again and wrote this for someone while I was with them;

To the wonderful love of my life
Your face and body is prepossessing

Someday I'll be your adoring wife

Our situation may seem depressing

But soon we will have a glorious life

With my darling zest for adventure

And your brilliant mind and soul

We will spend our lives together

Our love becoming celestial
I know your joy feels obliterated

Soon it will not feel that same way

As if sadness was inoculated

And I'll be there with a floral bouquet

Because these days will happen to you

But I will always help you pull through

Later in life I turned my poetry into songs. I have music on SoundCloud because I mostly make it just for myself to hear. My favorite song of mine on SoundCloud is my song “come through.” It’s about me and also about my best friend and my ex-boyfriend who has become my emotional support ex-boyfriend; he has never left my life since we met at 19. I met him in LA when I was 18. Both him and another ex told me to go to Miami and follow my dreams. They both played huge roles in helping me become more confident. Now we’re 26.

It’s grounding to have someone who knows you from one chapter of your life and then they pop up or stay with you into another chapter. It doesn’t always work out that way. I have someone like that who recently came back into my life. He was my first boyfriend and he was able to shine some lights on pretty dark things around me. It was nice to be reminded of that luminosity, to be seen through. I sometimes wish we had some more words that describe the different ways of relating or kinds of relationships we have with certain people. I mean “Ex” can feel too big and broad. “Boyfriend” can feel constraining. “Lover” is too plastic, slippery. I want more language-speak. Like, more words for specific kinds of connections makes so much sense.

I say in that song “if you wanna come back / I would tell you come through / it’s an ordinary task / like fixing up some food,” which isn’t necessarily true it just… sounds good.

Well, yes. Playing the “what if...” game always makes for good storytelling. Let’s plan to chat again soon.

Right now I'm filming a movie that has its SAG Interim Agreement, so the weekend is best!

Culture

The Club Is Coming to the Stage

We enter and make our way to what is approximately front left of the DJ booth, where we’re accustomed to dancing at clubs in New York. “So is this a techno club or a dance performance?” yells an uncertain participant in my boyfriend’s ear. He laughs, bouncing along to Ben UFO, and yells back, “It’s both!” The club has long been a hot topic in European contemporary dance but it is only now making its way into New York performance venues, largely through transatlantic tours. R.O.S.E. follows recent examples like Michele Rizzo’s HIGHER xtn. at MoMA PS1 (May 2024), (LA)HORDE’s Room with a View at NYU Skirball (October 2023), and Gisèle Vienne’s Crowd at BAM (October 2022).

Do these performances compromise the club’s spirit — a space idealized for its anonymity, dark lighting, and thundering music? The notion of the club as a utopian escape is admittedly just that — an ideal — because of how its intense conditions can create barriers to entry. Still, the club remains sacred for many, a place to forge connections and embrace an alternative state of being. Looking at how performances transfer this spirit to new settings reveals what aspects of the club are essential and those that aren’t.

Sharon Eyal, R.O.S.E. 2024. Photography by Stephanie Berger, courtesy of Park Avenue Armory.

Eyal’s dancers make their entrance. The lighting shifts from roving blue to yellow spotlights as Ben UFO’s tracks transition to more melodic beats. Clad in deconstructed lace Dior lingerie with dark red tears painted on their faces, the dancers move cautiously in a tightly maintained pack, slicing paths through the horde with hoof-like steps and jerky leg extensions. After around ten minutes of this controlled choreography, the dancers vanish as the lighting shifts back to blue and Ben UFO picks up his dubby beats. The club, as we knew it, resumes. This cycle of tightly executed movements and free-flowing club-goers repeats several times, each time emboldening the dancers to plunge further into the crowd.

Clubbing in a building once built for the U.S. Army National Guard on Manhattan’s Upper East Side turns out to be surprisingly successful — at least for the audience. What starts as an awkward, scattered group searching for their non existent seats gradually gels into an engaged, bouncing crowd that erupts in cheers each time the dancers enter and exit. Performance patrons who might never step foot in a club find themselves swept up in its potential for communion, moving in unison with fellow ticket holders. But it isn’t until the very end of R.O.S.E. that the dancers finally break free from Eyal’s choreography and join the fired-up audience in a brief moment of improvisatory movement with the music. By keeping her dancers at arm’s length, Eyal seems more interested in the club as a backdrop for her signature movement style than wholly as a space with meaningful stories to be told.

Michele Rizzo, HIGHER xtn. 2024. Photography by Cameron Kelly courtesy of MoMA PS1.

Back in May, I attended Wire Festival, a multiday electronic music event at Knockdown Center that had no shortage of organically united dancefloors. It attracted a crowd of seasoned ravers who were eager to celebrate the start of spring as they danced alongside DJs who played well into the daylight. I left Wire in an afternoon daze to see Michele Rizzo’s HIGHER xtn. at MoMA PS1. My sleepless euphoria only deepened as the performance unfolded, starting with a lone dancer who looked plucked out of the festival.

The dancer, dressed in sneakers, baggy jeans, and a tight tank top, shuffled slowly into the gallery, perfectly in sync with the looping bars of an understated electronic melody. Soon, other dancers, clad in the same staple rave uniform, joined him — each having traveled from Europe for the U.S. museum debut of HIGHER xtn., which premiered at the Stedelijk in Amsterdam in 2018 and quickly became a fixture at kunsthalles and festivals across the continent. As the score’s tempo climbed, the choreography locked into a 16-count sequence, which the dancers executed with precise synchrony. They remained intensely focused, never making eye contact with each other, as they sought release in the endless repetition of synthesized beats. Once the dancers reached their limit, they stopped the sequence and exited the gallery, one by one.

HIGHER xtn. used the focused daylight of the gallery to highlight the meditative release found in the repetitive movements that dominate dark dancefloors. The performance’s restraint brought more consistency and intentionality than Eyal’s all-encompassing club construction in R.O.S.E. Yet both performances offer enticing entry points into club culture for those who may not frequent raves. Rizzo’s ecstatic, hypnotic repetitions reveal how the club can mirror other meditative practices, while Eyal’s interpolation of performance and clubbing helped hesitant audience members blossom by the end. Still, both works overlook one of the most underappreciated aspects of clubbing — its potential for individual expression. HIGHER xtn.’s pristine uniformity especially risks promoting the outdated techno trope that there’s a “right” way to dance to electronic music.

Maybe this shortcoming is, in fact, a benefit. For habitual ravers jaded by one too many sunrise sets, it’s a reminder to return to the club with more intention. If you pause and peer through the darkness, you’ll see hundreds of people moving to the same beat, each with their own subtle variations. This collective choreography is a ready-made spectacle that doesn’t need validation in a theater or museum. And when the music shifts slightly, you can watch the ripple effect sweep through the crowd while feeling the new beat in your body. Maybe this small bit of magic is best left on the dance floor.

Culture

Real Slick, Jack: Psyche Organic Arrives in New York

Shop Psyche Organic at Happier Grocery and Dimes. Coming soon to @citarellagourmetmarket @unionmarket @gourmetgarage @deciccos @fairwaymarket plus many more.

Culture

Porsche SCOPES Brings Art, Music, and Design to Toronto

The festival was a full immersion into Toronto’s dynamic creative energy. Day one set the tone with DJ collective Living Room, followed by an experimental performance by Claire Rousay that captivated the crowd. Jewelry designer Steff Eleoff unveiled her Porsche Taycan 4S art car installation—a bold fusion of automotive and wearable art inspired by her Sedona ring—while OVO Sound’s Naomi Sharon and DVSN wrapped up the night with powerful, genre-defying performances.

We witnessed SCOPES Toronto bridging underground and mainstream with day two’s lineup. DJ Korea Town Acid’s set paved the way for Angelphroot and Dameer’s debut of BASSMATI, a track blending South Asian influences with bass-driven sounds. Chippy Nonstop’s return to Toronto and Richie Hawtin’s extended set were milestones of the evening, proving that the city’s underground scene has a global resonance.

The final day featured standout performances from local pianist Harrison, Indigenous artist Tia Wood, and hip-hop visionary Sean Leon, who elevated his set with a live choir. Moonshine Collective’s film and musical performance explored themes of African utopia, showcasing art’s power to bridge culture and technology. Rising Toronto star SadBoi, who paused her tour to perform at SCOPES, further underscored the festival’s commitment to nurturing local talent.

Throughout the weekend, we experienced installations from artists like Mitsu Mitsu and culinary creations from Bar Mordecai, capturing the multifaceted creativity Porsche SCOPES brought to Toronto. This milestone 10th edition, open to all, allowed Toronto’s vibrant arts scene to thrive, underscoring SCOPES’ mission to celebrate local talent while connecting it to a global audience.

office had the chance to connect with rising star SadBoi ahead of the event. In our conversation, she shared insights into her creative journey and reflected on what performing and growing up in Toronto means to her and her work.

How are you, and where are you at right now? You told me you were traveling.

Um, I’m good, I’m feeling really good right now. I’m traveling back to Salt Lake City. I had a show yesterday in Seattle. I’m on tour right now with Coco and Claire.

How is touring life treating you? Do you like it?

I love being on the road. To be honest, I feel like I don’t know—like I’ve had good experiences and bad ones—but this time it’s really fun, especially with the people I’m surrounded by. It’s also the longest tour I’ve been on; I have about four more weeks to go. I’m trying not to think about how many days I have left.

Do you feel homesick?

Yes, because when I start thinking about how many days are left, I start to miss my dogs. I’ve just been trying to stay in the moment—I don’t even know what day of the week it is, to be honest with you.

Oh, sweet! What are your dogs’ names?

Jillian and Winston. I know, they’re crazy names.

You’ll be performing at SCOPES in Toronto, which is where you grew up. Do you feel like the crowd is different when you perform in Toronto compared to other cities?

Yes, I mean, Toronto just feels different because it’s home. Every time I come back to perform, something in my career has changed. The last time I performed in Toronto, people just wanted to have a good time, and I’m excited to perform back home again to see everyone’s reactions. I know it’s going to be different from the last time. It’s exciting to see your own growth. Toronto is a tough crowd, though. If we’re with you, we’re really with you.

So, they’re super picky? You have to gain their respect, or what is it?

I think Toronto people are in their own world, but when something really connects with them, they’ll lose themselves in the moment. But it takes something to bring them out of that. Toronto crowds are tough because even if they like you, they won’t show it outright until they’re really vibing with you.

It’s like a vibe check, right?

Exactly. They’ll enjoy your performance, but it’s hard to explain. When people visit Toronto, they often say, “Oh, you guys are so nice,” and I’m like, “I don’t think we’re that nice, we’re just polite.” Like, you can walk down the street, and no one will say anything, but it’s just our mannerisms.

You mentioned Toronto can have a moody energy, especially at night, and that the underground night scene there really inspires you. Can you talk more about what makes Toronto's nightlife so influential for you?

Absolutely, Toronto has this unique energy that comes alive at night. Similar to New York, there are the popular clubs everyone knows, but you need to find your niche—the people who know where the real parties are. I remember going to raves in high school yards, sneaking in because I wasn’t old enough. Events like Baby, Jerk!, and Yes Yes Y’all were pivotal, exposing me to DJs blending dancehall with EDM—something I hadn’t seen before. Toronto nightlife is moody and intense, but when everyone’s out, it’s like the whole city is alive.