Gregg Araki has a long-standing reputation as a key filmmaker in the New Queer Cinema movement. His boundary-pushing narratives and visual style make him a notable cinematic voice, and the release of his latest film largely continues that tradition. I Want Your Sex follows intern Elliot (Cooper Hoffman) and the vast world of sexual experimentation his relationship with his boss Erika (Olivia Wilde) throws him into, exploring how Gen Z has supposedly turned away from sex and intimacy. The supporting cast includes Mason Gooding, Chase Sui-Wonders, Daveed Diggs, and a brief appearance by Johnny Knoxville.
The driving force behind the film lies with Hoffman and Wilde’s performances, and without their chemistry the film would be far less effective. The two leads effortlessly play off of each other and form the main crux of the film. The screenplay by Araki and Karley Sciortino has an edge to it that Hoffman and Wilde take into their own hands, with Wilde specifically giving her second fantastic performance of the year after The Invite (2026). Hoffman has given several impressive performances, but this one has a confidence that I never expected from him. These two relevant talents working together in such an unconventional way creates one of the funniest, most awkward, and tense duos of the year.
The most notable aspect of Araki’s filmography is the way he uses visuals to tell a story. His focus on color, blocking, and shot composition allows for striking imagery that sticks with audiences. It was incredibly disappointing, then, to see that a lot of that visual prowess is absent from I Want Your Sex. I found the blocking to be unlike any of Araki’s other films and felt more like a Hallmark movie than anything. I haven’t gotten through all of his films yet, but I was expecting a much more visually interesting watch, especially given how many directors fail to effectively shoot their movies nowadays.
Araki is no stranger to sex as a core element of his films. This film tackles a very specific and relevant idea: that Gen Z has conflicting attitudes towards sex. While I don’t necessarily think all of Gen Z has a negative attitude towards sex, there are some very real institutions (pornography, dating apps) that have diminished the ability to find meaningful connection. The film does take into account some of the very real ways in which intimacy has gone on the back burner for many my age.
Charli XCX’s character, for example, Elliot’s studious girlfriend, refuses to have sex with him because she’s too focused on her medical degree to have any time for it. While this coincides with a significant disinterest in Elliot, instances like these address how some Gen Z women are focused more on their careers and less on relationships. Aside from this character, the film ultimately fails to address any wider concern for Gen Z. Gooding’s character is very openly sexual, so the inconsistency fails to effectively address exactly why my generation might be so unsure of intimacy.
Despite a very strong set of lead performances and a heightened sense of humor, Araki’s comeback to cinema left much to be desired. Aside from a confident cast and provocative subject matter, the visual style is a glaring liability that ultimately detracts from the rest of the film. Given Araki’s pedigree, a film about Gen Z’s shifting attitudes towards sex sounds like an incredible idea for him to tackle, but the film’s refusal to commit to a distinct visual style or a singular theme makes me feel as though this was an appetizer rather than the full meal.
Review Courtesy of Nadia Arain
Feature Image Credit to Magnolia Pictures