In our current media landscape, there is an omnipresent discourse about whether or not it is unnecessary to depict sex in media. This discourse spirals into an even larger conversation about Gen Z and their apparent “fear” of sex. It all devolves into a cyclical conversation that never really goes anywhere.
Throughout his career, Gregg Araki explored the anxieties, desires, and identities of the youth through his unique, provocative lens. His work frequently sits at the intersection of existentialism and sexual exploration. I Want Your Sex, his first feature since 2014, continues that thematic thread and is the perfect vehicle to interrogate the ongoing discourse.
The world changed immensely since 2014, but Araki doesn’t miss a step as he follows Elliot (Cooper Hoffman), an eager young man who lands a job working for famous artist and provocateur Erika Tracy (Olivia Wilde). It’s not long before Erika enlists Elliot as her new sexual muse opening up an entire world of pain, pleasure, and boundaries for the young man. However, the deeper Elliot goes, the darker things become, taking him down a path that will alter his life forever.
Araki and cowriter Karley Sciortino could have easily wagged a finger at Gen Z mindsets surrounding sex, but they never favors one position over the other. As Araki does in all his work, the writing duo approaches the conversation with a sense of curiosity rather than judgement.
At one point when Erika dismisses Elliot’s generation as uptight, he muses that his generation is like this because they grew up “in a time where nothing feels safe or okay” while their socialization is greatly inhibited by larger factors. Araki seeks to understand why Gen Z shares this attitude around sex rather than admonish them for it.
We shy away from the fact that sex is intricate and can be a lot of things. It isn’t all of those things all at once all of the time, but every piece is crucial to our understanding of sex and how we mine a healthy relationship with it. Araki uses this as a building block to create a conversation around the ways in which we approach intimacy.
Elliot and Erika operate on opposing ends of the sexual spectrum that Araki explores. Young and naive Elliot doesn’t quite know what he wants to do with his life beyond maybe starting a podcast. He spends his free time trying to maintain an extinguished spark with his girlfriend Minerva (Charli XCX) who is always studying or hanging out with his best friend and roommate Apple (Chase Sui Wonders).
Erika, meanwhile, prides herself on being a “good, sexually liberated citizen.” Her enjoyment of sex is uninhibited and permeates every corner of her life from her artwork to her wardrobe. She bulldozes through the world, high off the power she derives from pleasure.
Elliot develops intense feelings for Erika as their relationship progresses. Though he enjoys the antics he and Erika get into, more traditional ideas like marriage and children ultimately get him off. He repeatedly broaches the subject of love with Erika who reiterates that their relationship is “just a sex thing.”
There’s a frictional relationship between intimacy being rooted in emotional connection versus simply existing for pleasure and fun throughout the film. Erika occupies an extreme where she’s not interested in emotional intimacy, simply a physical connection. Meanwhile, Elliot falls hard for her, going from a relationship with no emotional or physical connection to the opposite extreme.
This tension manifests on a visual level as Araki immerses us in this vibrant world of fantasy that butts heads with the grim and gritty reality of the noir framework he cleverly utilizes to tell this story. The world feels heightened and sensationalized until Elliot is ripped out of that fantasy and forced to confront what it’s done to him and his relationships. As much as we would love to, we cannot live in fantasy.
The committed performances allow this tension to play out honestly, despite the heightened world built around them.
Hoffman approaches Elliot with a wide-eyed earnestness. It’s a stunning display of vulnerability, as he bares Elliot’s soul. We feel how desperately enamored he becomes in this relationship and how it steadily chips away at him.
The cherry on top is Hoffman’s comedic sensibilities. He nails Elliot’s insecure goofiness as he embarks on this journey of discovery without demeaning the character’s journey. His concoction of insecurity, pain, and wonder results in a winning performance.
It is Wilde, though, who leaves the biggest impression as Erika. She knows exactly how to exist in Araki’s version of the world and plays Erika’s dry, vapidness with the utmost sincerity. She believes every outrageous thing she says and elicits some of the biggest laughs you’re going to find in this film.
Erika also feels like an exercise in presence. Wilde harnesses an unteachable electricity as she alters the energy of every room she enters on a molecular level. This is Erika’s world and we’re all just living in it.
Wilde doesn’t simply allow Erika to exist as some flat, cartoon character, though. Her ever-expressive eyes flicker with moments of vulnerability and doubt that pull us close, begging to know this woman more. Wilde already delivered top-notch work with this summer’s The Invite, but she’s done it again here.
Araki rounds out the cast with certified scene stealers. Charli XCX is a deadpan dream as Minerva while Mason Gooding and Daveed Diggs chew up the scenery as Zap and Vikktor, respectively.
Chase Sui Wonders solidifies herself as the film’s secret weapon as the painfully repressed Apple. Apple is someone who has built up sex in her mind to be the biggest thing imaginable and puts everything into it, despite the fact that she herself hasn’t had sex in well over a year and can’t seem to figure out why she doesn’t enjoy it with men (even though she insists she’s not a lesbian).
She’s very much incapable of approaching sex casually and it results in an emotional undoing. It’s her character that ties a bow around Araki’s dissection poignantly and beautifully.
I Want Your Sex is much more than a raunchy sex comedy. Araki seeks to challenge our preconceived ideas around what sex should be, while also asking us to examine our own limitations and boundaries. He wants to liberate audiences to engage with intimacy in the way that works best for them.
We’ve been fed this idea that sex is one specific thing and that’s the only way it can be. I Want Your Sex presents the argument that it can be so much more while refusing to deify one mindset over the other. In fact, we should embrace the multifaceted nature of sex and shouldn’t slide into extremism on either end of the spectrum.
Developing a healthy relationship with sex is trial and error; we don’t arrive to that moment fully formed and aware. Although it yields extreme results, I Want Your Sex celebrates the process of exploration; this is how we understand our limitations, our boundaries, and ultimately ourselves.
Araki continues to grow and evolve with the times, but his core message regarding intimacy remains steadfast. Sex is messy and uncomfortable, but it’s also powerful, eye-opening, and beautiful; his understanding of this has never wavered and he proudly presents nuance to an audience in an unapologetic way. I Want Your Sex is not only a triumphant return to the big screen, but also a necessary (and fun) conversation starter.
I Want Your Sex hits theaters Friday, July 31st.
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Adam Patla
Adam grew up less than 3 minutes away from a movie theater so he was always destined to love all things entertainment. He studied Broadcast & Cinematic Arts at Central Michigan University before working as a talent agent in the Chicago area until 2020. During lockdown he began discussing film and television on TikTok where he cultivated a platform of over 50,000 followers. He is currently a member of Chicago Indie Critics.