According to this documentary, 9 to 5 Days in Porn, Sharon Mitchell went to medical school. I guess then it’s true.

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German director Jens Hoffmann cautions the nearly full house at the Quartier Latin multiplex that his latest offering is not a porn movie. Rather, it’s a documentary about the business of porn movies.

And with that admission, half the crowd flees the theatre. Kidding. No one bolts, not from this eclectic crowd, covering the gamut from the scholarly-looking to the trenchcoat set to, natch, the sprinkling of press.

Hoffmann is something of a scholar himself. He comes armed with trenchant factoids for this screening: “Statistically, 50 per cent of North American households have some sort of porn. Porn is bigger than the popular-music business. Porn grosses more money than all North American sports combined.”

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Font:****Hoffmann is also something of a cut-up: “But if you ask, no one will ever admit to having, much less watching, any porn.”

To further illustrate Hoffmann’s gift for eliciting guffaws, he titled his documentary 9 to 5. But there is no confusing this revealing odyssey for the cheerful romp of the same title featuring steno-pool gals Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin and Dolly Parton. To be on the safe side and to avoid the overly litigious in Hollywood, Hoffmann added words to the title, to make it 9 to 5: Days in Porn.

Hoffmann is not far wrong warning viewers not to expect to be turned on by this doc. It is about as titillating as, say, the other 9 to 5. This is a flick about folks who earn their daily bread making porn but who essentially see themselves as working stiffs. The way some see it, their line of work is no different from those making pastry for a living.

It may seem bizarre, but take it from someone – me – who has written a book on the subject – Sex Carnival – that, in fact, appears to be the reality of the porn world. As I did, Hoffmann hooks up with “actors” who think nothing of getting it on with any number of humans, but who draw the line at kissing and cuddling with those with whom they perform acrobatics in the boudoir. “That’s disgusting,” opines one porn star in the doc, suggesting that kissing a fellow performer is akin to cheating on their spouse.

The porn world, on some levels, is no different from others. Most of the principals featured here are married or in relationships. Hoffmann catches them feeding their kids, watering their plants, walking their dogs off-screen. On the set, he catches them trying to, well, keep up for their parts. Both on and off, the world of porn, as depicted by Hoffmann, proves to be pretty tedious. The incentive is, invariably, the easy cash.

Few have any illusions about their work. Famed porn-director Jim Powers comes clean: “I work in a shit factory. I’m knee-deep in it.”

Porn-agent Mark Spiegler explains the attraction. College drop-outs can make more money than doctors. “And you can’t flunk out of porn.”

The most fascinating subject in the doc is Sharon Mitchell, a former porn star who quit the biz at the height of her popularity to go to medical school and become a doctor. She now treats performers in the industry and tests them regularly for disease.

Mitchell ruminates on the dark side of the industry. “Some girls might get into the business, thinking it’s taking the back door into Hollywood. They’re taking the back door alright, but it’s not Hollywood. It’s rare to find a Meryl Streep who starts out with (use your imagination).”

Hoffmann has gained the sort of access to this world few have ever captured on celluloid and has concluded that the work may be steady 9 to 5, but that it is far from glamorous. Those in search of glamour would be better off making pastry for a living.

Following the screening, Hoffmann with his wife and the film’s producer, Cleonice Comino, state that their mission here was “not to judge but to observe – and to allow viewers to arrive at their own conclusions.”

Both admit it was a rough ride. Shooting the more graphic sequences took a toll on their minds – and tummies. “During one particularly gross shoot, I looked around for Cleonice – who was also doing the sound for the film – and she was down on the ground,” Hoffmann recalls.

“I threw up,” says Comino, a Brazilian native who met and married Hoffmann in Germany. “It was so intense and the scene in question, like many others, was a real turn-off. There were times we needed to take a breather from it all. But the strange thing for these people is they feel that porn is just their job. They really don’t find it a particularly unusual business.”

This was also just a job for Hoffmann and Comino. Following 9 to 5, they did the doc 20 Seconds of Joy, which may sound like it relates to the world of porn but is actually light years removed. It is the story of a 25-year-old Norwegian woman who is a base-jumper – someone who jumps off high buildings with a parachute.

“It’s considered to be the most dangerous sport in the world,” notes Hoffmann, who just returned from a screening of the film at Toronto’s Hot Docs fest. “And it’s another job I have no interest in doing myself.”