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Gregg Araki’s first film in over a decade is a concise reminder of why his absence has been felt by a cinematic landscape that has become more prudish and terrified of the taboo. Araki’s films were formally inventive in how they spotlighted experiences and individuals that would have never been covered by mainstream Hollywood, but he also showed a frankness regarding intimacy that felt radical. Araki had evolved his style in a way where sex itself was only a component of his interests used to tell other stories in different genres, with “Smiley Face” and “White Bird in a Blizzard” being the two most striking examples. However, “I Want Your Sex” is a self-conscious reclamation that becomes a thesis state for an older, slightly disgruntled version of Araki. While not quite as shocking as his ‘90s run, “I Want Your Sex” is a sharp satire about Gen Z’s anxieties, curiously told from the perspective of an older man.

“I Want Your Sex” follows Elliot (Cooper Hoffman), an aspiring creative (of sorts) who has taken a job working for the renowned artist Erika Tracy (Olivia Wilde), who has become a minor celebrity of sorts due to her provocative, erotic paintings, sculptures, and visual art. Erika has enlisted many young employees to work at her gallery, but she targets Elliot as being suitable to give her more than just professional help. Erika enlists and enforces Elliot to be her sexual muse, a complication that confuses him because of his own lack of experience. This not only leads to a complex situation with Elliot’s best friend Apple (Chase Sui Wonders) and his affectless girlfriend Minerva (Charli XCX), but attracts the attention of Erika’s suspicious long-term employee Zap (Mason Gooding) and business manager Vikktor (Daveed Diggs).

The irony in “I Want Your Sex” is that the generation raised on the Internet, of which Elliot is a part of, has more exposure to graphic content than ever, yet seem completely confused and suspicious about intimate experimentation. As a means of showing the significant drop-off between generations, Araki crafts characters who are exaggerated in their lack of self-awareness; Erika is openly flirtatious and sexually expressive in a hilarious sense, whereas Elliot can barely articulate what his desires are. There’s of course something inherently provocative about a relationship between an older employer and a young employee that Araki latches on to, especially because Erika frequently conflates her personal fulfillment with Elliot’s professional obligations. Yet, Araki doesn’t really seem to be offending as much as he is asking an audience to forget their puritan objections. The sensitivity that society has taught Elliot to express has made him buffoonish to an absurd degree, which is only exacerbated by the fact that Erika seems to live, breathe, and conjure sex during any waking moment.

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The sex scenes themselves are quite comical, as Araki draws humorous parallels to the fantasies of his characters, and how dramatically they fail at recreating them. While Elliot is in a constant state of being overwhelmed because of the knowledge bombs that Erika drops on him, Araki is also relying on tonal and visceral whiplash to keep the audience similarly on edge. A flashback structure, similar to “Sunset Boulevard,” has Elliot questioning if he could have been involved in Erika’s demise, and the flashes to his chaotic headspace only hammer home this point further. While the fact that Araki seems genuinely aggravated does give the film a sense of passion, it also results in some messiness. Araki is so keen to comment on multiple conversations had about sex and society that “I Want Your Sex” is as much a video essay as it is a film; this also means that some of these ideas are explained in single, off-handed lines that have no follow up.

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The deliberate style of characters speaking eloquently, thus calcifying Araki’s sentiments, is a gag that often works because of the creative delivery on the part of the actors, Hoffman and Wilde in particular. However, it does become less compelling when the film’s narrative begins to go down a familiar path of missed exchanges, misinterpreted signals, and the eventual emotional reckoning necessitated by the third act. At times, it feels as if Araki is leaning on a more straightforward narrative structure in order to broadcast his message as loudly as possible, but succeeding in that ambition doesn’t make the film any more effective. Even when the film doubles back to ensure that the conclusions it draws are a bit pricklier than they might seem at first, Araki seems oddly restrained in completing his homages to noir, horror, and exploitation.

The revolving door of supporting characters exist to fulfill and lampoon different stereotypes, but the dynamic between Wilde and Hoffman is so awkwardly funny that it all makes sense within the bizzaro universe Araki has created. Hoffman has evolved into an actor who not only carries the earnestness and trepidation of his generation on his shoulders, but someone whose charisma comes from being disarmingly sincere. As for Wilde, she’s become an infinitely more interesting performer in “character” roles as opposed to the unappealing lead roles she had been often early on in her career; it’s also evident that, in light of her own experience as a director, Wilde is much more aware of how she appears on camera, and is successful in augmenting Araki’s creative choices.

Many of the smaller roles in the film are performed by celebrities like Chali XCX and Johnny Knoxville, where the stunt casting is itself the joke. There’s also a few moments when Araki seems to pull back from showing anything sincere without using some wild animatic or sharp edit to undercut it, suggesting some insecurity on the part of the ‘90s generation of Sundance directors who are working within the digital age. “I Want Your Sex” isn’t necessarily an announcement of a major Araki comeback, but rather a reminder that he is still around. If it only ends up being a companion piece that comments on changing societal norms, “I Want Your Sex” is certainly never boring.

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I Want Your Sex (2026) Movie Links: IMDb, Rotten Tomatoes, Wikipedia, Letterboxd
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