Has Gregg Araki ever truly been a provocateur, or is he just a breezy, sex-positive activist stuck in an important filmmaker’s body? The anarchic energy of his early work points to the former, but his latest, despite its provocative title “I Want Your Sex,” suggests he may have evolved into something closer to the latter — if there’s a difference between them at all.
Really, he just wants Gen Z to have fun, regardless of how many ball gags and handcuffs it takes to get there.
In his first feature since “White Bird in a Blizzard” (2014), Araki has tapped Cooper Hoffman as the paragon for all ‘Zillenials’ — that is to say, he’s broke and sexually confused. In a trademark opening that vaguely recalls Billy Wilder’s “Sunset Boulevard,” Hoffman’s character Elliot is seen wearing only a bright pink bra as he drunkenly stumbles out to the back patio of a Los Angeles mansion. There, he finds world-renowned artist Erika Tracy (Olivia Wilde) drowning facedown in the swimming pool. It’s clear he’s too drunk to know how or why she ended up there.
Flash back 9 ½ weeks — surely a wink at Adrian Lyne’s 1986 erotic landmark of the same name — and we’re at the start of their entanglement. As Elliot recalls it to the frowning detective duo (Margaret Cho and Johnny Knoxville) seated across from him in an interrogation room, it all began when he interviewed to become an assistant at Tracy’s studio.
The artist — whose almost exclusively latex outfits make her look like an avant-garde Power Ranger — proceeds to engage him in one of the more awkward and, ironically, “not safe for work” job interviews ever, only to eventually reveal that he had the job all along.
Tracy’s erotically-charged pop art — think vaginas rendered in chewed gum — is perhaps second only to Adrien Brody’s in terms of shallow trashiness, but for a penniless UCLA grad like Elliot, the gig is a dream come true, even if he complains to coworker Zap (Mason Gooding) that the constant chewing will give him lock jaw. So when Tracy begins to seduce him, it comes with promises of both career advancement and sexual awakening.
Even when Erika’s assistant, the scowling Vikktor (Daveed Diggs), warns Elliot that he is neither the first nor will he be the last assistant boy toy at the artist’s disposal; he pays little mind. It’s not like he has much to lose anyways.
At least, that’s Elliot’s way of thinking of things. But as the film continues we begin to see how much worse this floundering 20-something-year-olds’ life can get. Initially, his relationship with the artist opens the door for all his wildest sexual fantasies to come to life, but soon enough, he’s in way over his head.
In many ways, Araki uses Erika Tracy as a vessel to push his own philosophy. Though the director and his character almost certainly differ on some opinions — she is adamantly anti-woke and disregards the idea of a safe word in the bedroom — they share a common goal: get Gen Z to loosen up, both mentally and physically.
Elliot isn’t the only one for whom understanding intimacy is difficult. In fact, in contrast to his girlfriend Minerva (Charli xcx), a graduate student who is almost exclusively stationed in bed with textbook in hand, Hoffman’s character looks like the next star of Playboy. Even when they do have sex — for Minerva, going at it yet again after only 11 days is almost unfathomable — it’s less of a passionate encounter than a mutual endurance test, conducted mostly in eye rolls.
Elliot does find some solace in best friend and roommate Apple (“The Studio” breakout Chase Sui Wonders, here the highlight of a star-studded yet under-resourced cast) but when she too gets caught up in the affair via a hilariously bizarre ménage à trois, things take a turn for the even worse.
At rock bottom, Elliot is heard recording a podcast — a running gag that shows the 66-year-old Araki has at least some knowledge of the younger generation’s obsessions — where he recounts his relationship with Tracy to be like a drug: the highest of highs and the lowest of lows.
Rather ironically, the construction of Araki’s film proves similarly erratic. Some scenes — the Apple-Elliot-Erika threesome, the climactic sequence leading to Erika's drowning — are genuine highs. When everyone keeps their clothes on, the film struggles to match them.
Other aspects that are typically strengths in Araki’s rough-around-the-edges filmography, like the detailed production design or rowdy editing style, seem much too pared back in this piece. Given that this script lends itself to kitsch, especially in the hands of Araki, who not only co-wrote it but practically defined the term ‘camp,’ it is easy to wonder why he didn’t go much further over the top.
Had Araki made this film 20 years ago, it likely would have fallen in line with “Mysterious Skin” and the “Teen Apocalypse” trilogy as one of his best works. But now the director is older, and perhaps better psychologically tuned, which comes at the cost of a lessened willingness to go all-out.
Truthfully, “I Want Your Sex” is ravishing entertainment that draws strong performances — especially from Hoffman and Wonders — and moves briskly through its 90 minutes, but it lacks the flair and command that once defined Araki as one of his era's most inventive directors.
“I Want Your Sex” premiered at the 2026 Sundance Film Festival, and screened at Independent Film Festival Boston on April 24, 2026. It is set to be released in the United States via Magnolia Pictures on July 31, 2026.
