Things are fucked up when your healthiest sexual relationship is with your sister. Yet, this disturbed dynamic yields one of the most insightful movie treatments of sexuality I have ever seen. In a movie with little dialogue, exquisitely bleak lighting and acting that rips your clothes off, Sex is the leading character in this movie.
Sex is the comforting character, an analgesic, bringing release from the agonizing existential brutality.
Sex is the co-dependent companion that reinforces destructive behavior.
Sex is the store clerk, handling a simple transaction.
Sex is the religious enforcer, bringing down, if not the wrath of God, the wrath of the man in the bar.
Sex is the confidant that shines a bright light on your worst faults, making you feel simultaneously awful and wonderful.
Sex is the only thing and nothing.
Sex is a reminder of how we begin and how we must all end.
Sex is the act of living, creating, bleeding and dying.
The characters in this movie have dysfunctional relationships with Sex, but ultimately the shame they feel is the problem, not Sex. Sex does what it does. Shame twists and warps and ruins the plenitude that Sex offers. Sometimes even the worst problems disappear when you shove your face into a lovely ass.
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