I Want Your Sex Review: A Kinky, Wickedly Funny Power Trip
Olivia Wilde and Cooper Hoffman ignite Gregg Araki’s audacious satire of sex, power, and art-world absurdity.
George Michael said it best in a song: “Sex is natural, sex is good, not everybody does it, but everybody should.” But should you do it with your boss — especially if it entails becoming her sex slave?
Amusingly awkward artist’s assistant Elliot answers with a resounding “Yes, ma’am” in I Want Your Sex, the latest cinematic provocation from perpetually cool indie filmmaker Gregg Araki.
An audacious post-#MeToo satire of sexual politics and art world absurdity, the film easily might have landed as just a thinly veiled male sex fantasy were it not for Cooper Hoffman’s soulful, vulnerable turn as Elliot, and an endlessly enjoyable Olivia Wilde as his turned-on and totally toxic boss Erika.
A painter and sculptor, Erika’s an art world darling, with a studio full of assistants doing her bidding. Creating artworks like a giant vagina composed of chewed-up pieces of gum, she’s a domineering “visionary” in leather and spike heels. Elliot’s the workshirt-wearing new guy in the studio, who’s just happy to be there, when suddenly Erika sets her sights on him.
And he’s more than eager to cross the line between boss and employee to respond to her advances. In fact, he crawls on all fours across the line at her command, just the beginning of a tempestuous BDSM affair that completely takes over his life.
While the film, written by Araki and Karley Sciortino, has fun exploring the parameters of Elliot and Erika’s kinky liaisons, it aims its sharpest jabs — sight gags and dialogue — at Erika’s art and process. She lands some of those jabs herself, telling Elliot, “Contemporary art is a scam. You know that, right?”
Still, her art sells, so she’s gained success, wealth, and power, and she wields them ruthlessly to please herself, especially where Elliot is concerned. But is he her victim, or simply her willing submissive?
The movie dances around the question relatively gracefully, acknowledging that Elliot’s enthusiastic consent doesn’t change the fact that this is a problematic relationship. Elliot holds almost zero power in this boss-employee, dom-sub dynamic.
Viewers inclined to consider the ramifications if the genders were reversed can turn to Maggie Gyllenhaal and James Spader’s crackling depiction of a similar scenario in Steven Shainberg’s enduringly relevant 2002 drama Secretary. As in that film, the submissive here seems to find himself afresh in this new exploration of his sexuality.
Elliot finds more pleasure in being sexually humiliated than he ever could have imagined. Certainly, he gets more attention, even affection, from Erika than from his actual girlfriend, the comically disinterested med student Minerva (Charli XCX, finally clicking in a film role).
As Elliot points out, he’s already in a submissive relationship to Minerva — it’s just not the fun kind of submission. To clarify matters, Hoffman vividly distinguishes between the domination and humiliation that excites Elliot, versus his feelings of true degradation when the relationship with Erika inevitably hits a snag.
Trouble in paradise comes as no surprise, as the film opens in thriller mode with Elliot’s broken nose and bloody face, and a body floating in the pool of an L.A. mansion. The circumstances are unclear even to Elliot, who appears more like a suspect than victim to the investigating police detectives (Margaret Cho and Johnny Knoxville, playing it so straight it’s funny).
Backtracking to uncover the mystery, the film shifts smoothly to droll comedy, delivered with wicked fire by Wilde, and with a delightfully dry assist from Mason Gooding as Elliot’s promiscuously gay fellow assistant Zap. (Yes, friends, your fave Scream king is playing for Team LGBTQ, with Zap making cracks about his porno blog and sucking dick before breakfast. Enjoy.)
The Studio’s Chase Sui Wonders adds another appealing layer of queer quirkiness as Elliot’s roommate and bestie, Apple, who quite unexpectedly gets pulled into his complicated affairs, and sparks her own slight sexual awakening.
Ultimately, no one emerges unscathed from these twisted entanglements (except maybe Zap). Although at almost every turn, Elliot seems in control of his choices, diving into this adventure like a man who’s never felt more alive.
I Want Your Sex (★★★★☆) is rated R and playing in theaters nationwide. Visit fandango.com.
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