‘I Want Your Sex’: Provocateur Gregg Araki Returns To Satirical Form To Challenge Gen Z’s Sexual Timidity 

Alci Rengifo

The social evolutionary trend used to be that every new generation would push the sexual boundaries of the previous one. Gen Z has been defying the mold with headlines about dating less, having less sex, and even preferring platonic relationships, per studies and polls. Gregg Araki, a Gen-X provocateur who first rattled sensibilities in the ‘90s, chooses the current sexual drought for a return to his colorful, neo-punk essence with “I Want Your Sex.” The title itself is an affront to the timidity of the times, as well as the plot. Knowing full well how sensitive social relations have become since the MeToo movement, Araki decides to tackle sex and power in the workplace as a starting point. While it’s not as visceral as the work from the director’s glory days, you can still appreciate someone of his sensibilities choosing to attempt a fire or two.

To represent a generation, Araki casts Cooper Hoffman as Elliot, a twenty three-year-old with a bashed face, wandering a lavish home where a woman’s body is floating in the pool. The narrative then rewinds nine-and-a-half weeks to explain how Elliot exists with little money and is stuck in a weird relationship with Minerva (Charli XCX), who has no time for sex because of her focus on studies. Elliot’s roommate is his best friend since childhood, Apple (Chase Sui Wonders), who bemoans her romantic disappointments. Elliot eventually applies for a studio assistant job for Erika Tracy (Olivia Wilde), a famous artist who has become an entire brand unto herself. His first assignment is to join co-worker Zap (Mason Gooding) in chewing gum to then attach onto one of Erika’s new pieces. Soon enough, she calls Elliot into her office to let him know she notices how he looks at her. What follows is an upfront offer to have sex. The starved young man goes for it, only to discover that Erika is into kink and role playing.

Araki is too smart to make another shallow piece of wannabe erotic like “Fifty Shades of Grey,” and too much of a rebel to attempt a straight-faced offering in the tone of “Babygirl.” Instead, he and co-writer Karley Sciortino take the archetypes of those kinds of tales and use them to deconstruct our cultural moment. Despite a few ventures into conventional filmmaking, at heart Araki has always been a provocateur going back to the ‘90s. At the time he made his “Teenage Apocalypse” trilogy, an anarchic ode to the boredom of the decade’s teens, complete with lots of sex, decapitations and rampaging neo-Nazis. As a queer artist, his cinema has also explored LGBTQ themes with satirical energy. Sexuality and power have remained key obsessions, including in “Mysterious Skin,” a powerful study in the psychological aftershocks of child molestation. 

“I Want Your Sex” proves Araki has plenty of bite left. He has no qualms about being the older filmmaker, almost shaking his head at a generation undergoing a kind of sex recession, where terms like “involuntary celibacy” are the norm. Elliot informs Erika that his demographic was raised by being sheltered from anything that could make them uncomfortable. He yearns for sexual exploration, if not outright release, but doesn’t know how. Minerva, played with cold gusto by Charli XCX (in a brilliant casting against type), inspires little sympathy. She likes to have Elliot around for who knows what reason, granting him intimacy once in a blue moon. When they do have sex, she looks about as excited as a statue while Elliot closes his eyes to visualize Erika. Zap is almost the stereotype of the hyper sexual queer, boasting that he constantly attends orgies and never lacks for a hook up. Possibly, Araki is playfully hinting at how maybe the queer community is the last one standing still celebrating the freedom of sex as a natural human need without shame. 

The story angle involving Erika is more complicated. Olivia Wilde, a millennial, plays the role like an icy boss who is baffled by the vulnerabilities of others. She is used to being noticed and admired, so Elliot should be grateful to be her play thing. Araki isn’t making excuses for her behavior, which is clearly an abuse of power. There is only the irony that Elliot has to undergo abuse as a sex slave to start truly becoming bold to the point of realizing that after trying it for a while, sex without a deeper emotional connection grows cold. Fantasies are just that, and when we get to try them out, the results do not always come out as we had imagined. Despite the upfront nature of the title and ads, “I Want Your Sex” is not a graphic flesh marathon. The scenes with Wilde in kink costume, with Elliot splayed on a bed, are more farcical than erotic. Araki also uses Erika for some vicious snipes at the whole neo-Pop art world, its pretentious nature and enclosed sphere. Erika slowly comes into focus as one of those brands which has lost anything meaningful to say, which Elliot will also realize in very hurtful, humiliating ways. 

Unlike Araki’s best known works from thirty years ago, “I Want Your Sex” is not a despairing commentary. Instead of the Gen X and millennial teens in his films who end up drowning in violent chaos, he seems to have hope in the Zoomers reigniting their libidos if just given the chance to break away from apathy and fear. The tone goes well with Araki’s taste for bright colors, evoked here by cinematographer Tucker Korte with the mood of an indie channeling Andy Warhol. The director also found the perfect face in Cooper Hoffman, son of Philip Seymour Hoffman, who first grabbed real attention in Paul Thomas Anderson’s “Licorice Pizza.” He has that stare of the good-hearted young guy capable of stupid mistakes and endearing sincerity. In his hands Elliot becomes the symbol of a generation that needs a new sexual revolution.

“I Want Your Sex” releases July 31 in theaters nationwide.