The youths these days just don’t get after it like the generations that preceded them. And by “get after it,” I mean intercourse. One of those people who wants to get after it more is Elliot (Cooper Hoffman), an unemployed, 23 year-old recent college graduate living with his best friend, Apple (Chase Sui Wonders). One would think having a steady girlfriend would mean consistent sex, but alas, Elliot’s girlfriend, graduate student Minerva (Charli XCX), does not have the time to make the physical a part of their relationship, creating a void he’s looking to unconsciously fill.

Elliot does land a job working as a studio assistant for Erika Tracy (Olivia Wilde), a bold, experimentally provocative artist. She’s direct in what she wants, no doubt in part to the status she wields over everyone. One week into Elliot’s position, Erika presents him with an opportunity: be her sexual muse. Initially hesitant because of her frankness, Elliot eventually agrees to the proposition. His world and worldview completely expand, and his attraction to his boss becomes more and more intense. But what starts as something purely sexual transforms into a situation he is unable to regulate.

If you pureed Lolita, The Graduate, May December, and Sorry to Bother You, the result may look something like I Want Your Sex. Beginning in media res, the movie positions a central mystery the plot builds to that gives the events, essentially narrated, more meaning and context. However, the movie is somewhat conflicting with its messaging and the stated goals of its director (more on that later). But even with all that noted, I Want Your Sex turns out to be an amusing, mildly sexy, and sometimes uneasy, indie feature.

Transparently, I was not familiar with director Gregg Araki’s work prior to I Want Your Sex. So, coming into this with open eyes was a journey. That said, it doesn’t take long to see the quirky, surrealist, and campy elements he seems to revel in, colored in a bright, poppy aesthetic. The editing, done by Araki and Victor de la Parra, definitely adds to the snappy and chaotic feel of the movie.

Generation Z and their behaviors towards sex is at the forefront of I Want Your Sex. Why aren’t they doing it more? Could it be tied to being born in the technological age, decreasing the skill to communicate needs and desires one on one with each other? Maybe there’s simply a fear of being too forward and coming off as a creep, actions blasted all across the socials. None of these questions are posed directly, but Araki and his co-writer Karley Sciortino are interested in these, as well as the factors power, age, and gender play in them.

Where the writers don’t quite achieve their goal is relaying how sex positive their film is. Araki has gone on record in many interviews saying that the goal of his feature is to have this be a love letter to Gen Z, and perhaps encourage them to get wild, make those brief but long-lasting memories, etc. The problem is, I Want Your Sex isn’t exactly a model example of healthy sexual relationships. Lustful, without a doubt, but I think by the end, the film’s view on sexual activity and importance of the experience lands closer to neutral at best.

Still, the fun of this movie is generated most from its top billed cast. With her work performing in and directing The Invite and now here, the revitalization of Wilde is a real thing. As a performer, she’s never been more in a groove than she is in 2026. Here, she’s daring, blunt, and frightening the way she throws her weight around. Through it all, she’s the definition of expressively magnetic, someone who makes it quite easy emotionally, physically, and psychologically to understand how an individual like Elliot could fall so hard for Erika Tracy. In short order, Hoffman is showcasing the range that made his father so legendary as a thespian.

Eccentric side characters played by Wonders, Mason Gooding, and Daveed Diggs contribute a bit to the humor, while cop roles inhabited by Johnny Knoxville and Margaret Cho are nothing to write home about. The story really fails Wonders’ Apple, whose character is a part of the pivotal point of the feature, but has no payoff after this moment concludes.

There’s too much friction between the intended message and what comes across the screen in I Want Your Sex. But because of the vivacious effort of Wilde and the awkward submissiveness of Hoffman, Araki’s film never lacks in impotence.

B-

Photo credits go to screenrant.com, impawards.com, imdb.com, and people.com.