I Want Your Sex

Extremely sexually explicit comedy version of "babygirl" where the sub is actually the intern. Some few funny jokes and decently executed but overall a forgettable movie

Sex is one of those subjects that can be difficult to address on film. It can easily come across as shallow, silly titillation, as bawdy, shameless voyeurism, or as a veiled form of porn euphemistically garbed as a work of erotic art. What’s more, viewers going into theaters to watch offerings about this subject may have expectations that don’t reflect any of the foregoing examples or that don’t live up to what they anticipate, leaving many audience members frustrated and disappointed. But, every so often, a movie comes along that gets things right, as is very much the case with the new comedy from writer-director Gregg Araki. As the film’s title unabashedly proclaims, this release is unapologetically about what it says it is, at least superficially. In actuality, however, there’s much more to this offering than what it suggests, and that’s what helps to make this an insightfully worthwhile watch, sexual considerations notwithstanding. In essence, the film follows the outrageous exploits of an outspoken, freewheeling, perpetually thirsty erotic artist, Erika Tracy (Olivia Wilde), and one of her naïve, sheepish gallery assistants, Elliott (Cooper Hoffman), who engage in a wildly uninhibited relationship ostensibly built just on sex. In many ways, it’s a scenario in which submissive, clueless Elliott finds himself in way over his head. However, as a recent college graduate in need of work, he takes the job, which, despite the considerable demands of his indisputably dominant boss, ironically ends up being quite liberating and erotically fulfilling (especially since his cold, perpetually indifferent girlfriend, Minerva (Charli XCX), frequently leaves him and his needs unattended, prompting Elliott to engage in frequent acts of “self-satisfaction”). As time passes, though, relations between Erika and Elliott start to sour as he begins to take the nature of their relationship seriously (some might even say obsessively), something that she views as completely casual, easi...

"Elliot" (Cooper Hoffman) is working for a renowned artist "Erika" (Olivia Wilde) when she starts to show a little extra interest in him. He's intrigued and more than a little curious, but he is ill-prepared for just what she has in mind when she invites him back to her home - ostensibly for professional purposes - and introduces him to her kinky-side. Meantime, he's been chucked out of his apartment and is taking a break from his studious and physically uninterested girlfriend (Charlie xCx) and so is staying with his sexually fluid colleague "Zap" (Mason Gooding). Now with his sexual boundaries being tested and his eyes (amongst other things) being well and truly opened, his love life becomes something of a rollercoaster to which he is becoming increasingly addicted. The problem might be, though, that "Erika" isn't exactly reciprocating on any emotional fronts. For her, he has a role and a purpose and she seems quite capable of switching on and off at will - much to his chagrin. With his now obvious obsession to her and her power becoming clear, what happens next? The first half hour of this is actually quite ground-breaking; not least because both Hoffman and Wilde throw themselves into their parts enthusiastically and there are some accompanying pithy remarks from the smart-mouthed "Zap", but after that it sort of plateaus into something that runs out of steam before becoming vaguely preposterous - even by battery-powered standards. It's kinkiness is fun, is cringe-making and is innovative but that isn't sustained and with the dialogue never really making that much of an impact on the proceedings, I'm afraid I sort of lost interest. It certainly emphasises that pleasures of the flesh and of the mind are not necessarily restricted to people of the opposite sex, nor to anything even remotely conventional but once that point has been made once or twice, I thought this just became a bit repetitious and the conclusion rushed like Agatha Christie on Ketamine. It'd wort...