I Want Your Sex hits theaters on July 31.
Given his last film was over a decade ago, it’s definitely gratifying to have a unique voice in cinema like Gregg Araki back with a new movie, even if the end result is entertaining but not a top tier new addition to his filmography. The indie director broke out in the 1990s with offbeat, edgy movies like The Doom Generation and Nowhere; he’s certainly never been shy about exploring sexuality in his work, which — as you might expect by the title — is front and center in his new release, I Want Your Sex. Araki has spoken about how a motivating factor for this story, co-written with Karley Sciortino, was the oft-repeated notion of Gen Z generally having less sex and being more prudish than the previous generation, an assertion he examines through the eyes of Gen Z protagonist Elliot (Cooper Hoffman).
Elliot’s life gets thrown into disarray thanks to his new job as an assistant for Erika Tracy (Olivia Wilde), a popular modern artist known for her provocative imagery. The very bold and forthright Erika initiates a sexual relationship with Elliot, which gets very wild very quickly, and all while he begins to have some big problems sticking to her rule of this being only about the sex and nothing else.
The first half of I Want Your Sex is very strong, with Araki’s quirky and sometimes surreal sense of humor shining through in the scenes at Erika’s studio as Elliot bonds with one of his coworkers (Mason Gooding’s Zap) while trying to avoid the wrath of Erika’s business manager, Vikktor (a very funny Daveed Diggs, who gets big laughs through some expert glares). Elliot’s central journey into becoming a submissive boy toy to his beautiful and powerful boss is funny and outrageous, with Araki really nailing the casting with his two leads.
On the heels of directing herself in a career-best performance in The Invite, Wilde is also great here as Erika, who has turned her whole life into a form of performance art. Wilde does a nice job of walking the line to keep us guessing about whether Erika really is as unaffected and amusingly laser focused as she seems, or if it’s really all artifice she’s built up around her. Meanwhile, Hoffman continues to impress early in his career following films like Licorice Pizza and The Long Walk. His incredibly accessible and likable boy next door charm is perfect for Elliot, making the character very endearing as he’s being pulled into Erika’s vortex, saying yes to anything and everything because the sex itself and his glee that she’s chosen him is so euphoric.
It’s a very funny, awkward, outrageous sequence that moves between broad comedy, sexiness, and discomfort in an impressive manner.
The movie’s standout sequence occurs when Erika tells Elliot she wants to have a threesome and tasks him with quickly finding their third; he impulsively asks his college friend and current roommate, Apple (Chase Sui Wonders), to join them. Wonders, who has impressed on The Studio, is terrific here as we see her character spiral through the excitement and tension of the imminent situation. She’s been fangirling over Erika from afar, but she’s about to cross a line with her friend. It’s a very funny, awkward, outrageous sequence that moves between broad comedy, sexiness, and discomfort in an impressive manner.
That sequence, however, is also kind of where the movie peaks, even though there’s plenty more movie after it. The third act of I Want Your Sex inevitably has to deal with the film’s framing device, as Elliot is being interviewed by two police detectives (Johnny Knoxville and Margaret Cho) in the wake of some sort of dark event. And unfortunately, the revelations here feel a bit slapdash and less engaging than what came before it. (Am I aware of how many sentences in a review of a movie called I Want Your Sex can be seen as a sexual pun even when not intended as such? I am, dear reader…)
A couple of notable aspects about I Want Your Sex’s final act feel off. There’s more than one major line crossed by a character that both the person affected and the movie itself seem to be letting off the hook too easily. One element in particular is oddly not even really brought up again in a significant manner, despite the fact that its importance is something this movie in particular should acknowledge. It’s also annoying how Apple vanishes in the second half! There’s a plot reason for why she’s off-screen, but given her role in the film, it’s odd that we don’t really get any closure on this character after we spent significant time with her.
More so, though, it feels like the early scenes in which Araki directly tackles the guarded way young people might perceive sex these days and why that might be — growing up as part of the COVID generation is evoked — as well as acknowledging the power imbalance between Erika and Elliot are subjects that are pushed aside by the end. The movie veers into seeing this as more of a wild May/December relationship, glossing over the other interesting issues it was initially weaving in.
