"I Want Your Sex" (Araki, 2026) - Review

I Want Your Sex is a bold, hilarious, and unexpectedly thoughtful reminder that cinema can still be dangerous, playful, and completely unafraid to make audiences uncomfortable.

Written by Codie Allen

Sex has always been one of cinema’s greatest contradictions. It can be intimate and vulnerable, ridiculous and uncomfortable, liberating and terrifying all at once. Yet modern conversations around sex often feel caught between extremes: everything is visible, everything is performative, and somehow genuine connection feels harder to find. With I Want Your Sex, Gregg Araki returns to the big screen with a film that is less interested in simply shocking audiences and more interested in asking why we are so afraid of desire in the first place.

After more than a decade away from feature filmmaking, Araki proves he has lost none of his rebellious energy. His latest is a colorful, outrageous, and deliberately excessive exploration of sexuality, art, obsession, and the strange ways people search for validation. It is messy, provocative, and completely unafraid to embrace its own weirdness. Most importantly, it feels like the work of a filmmaker who understands that sex is not just about physical attraction — it is about power, identity, insecurity, and the desperate human need to feel seen.

The film follows Elliot (Cooper Hoffman), a recently graduated art student who lands a job assisting Erika Tracy (Olivia Wilde), a famous contemporary artist whose entire career revolves around challenging ideas of sexuality and expression. What begins as a professional relationship quickly transforms into something far more complicated when Erika pulls Elliot into a world of domination, submission, and experimentation. Suddenly, the awkward young artist finds himself completely out of his depth, caught between fantasy and reality as he tries to understand what he actually wants.

While I have not seen much of Gregg Araki’s previous work, it is clear that I Want Your Sex comes from a filmmaker deeply interested in outsiders, identity, and the complicated ways people search for connection. Even without being familiar with his entire filmography, Araki’s distinct voice is impossible to miss. There is a sense of complete creative freedom throughout the film, as he approaches sexuality through the lens of a modern generation that often feels simultaneously overexposed and emotionally guarded.

The film works because Araki never treats sexuality as something purely scandalous. The humor comes from recognizing how absurd humans can be when dealing with attraction, insecurity, and fantasy. There is a playful ridiculousness throughout the film, but underneath all the neon colors, outrageous situations, and heightened performances is a surprisingly thoughtful conversation about intimacy.

Cooper Hoffman gives one of his strongest performances yet as Elliot. He perfectly captures the character’s awkwardness and curiosity while never making him feel like a joke. Elliot is someone desperate to appear confident but constantly reveals his uncertainty, and Hoffman brings a vulnerability that makes the character’s journey work. Opposite him, Olivia Wilde is fearless as Erika, delivering a performance built on confidence, unpredictability, and complete commitment. She makes Erika fascinating because you never fully know whether she is being sincere or simply performing another version of herself.

The supporting cast is equally strong, with Mason Gooding bringing hilarious energy as Zap and Daveed Diggs making the most of his limited screen time as Erika’s mysterious business partner. However, I found myself wanting more from Chase Sui Wonders’ Apple. As Elliot’s roommate and best friend, Apple provides an important perspective outside of Erika’s chaotic world. Wonders brings a natural charm and dry comedic timing to the role, but the character often feels like she is waiting for a bigger story that never fully arrives. Apple represents another side of the film’s conversation about sex and relationships, and I wish the screenplay explored her perspective with the same curiosity it gives Elliot and Erika. By the end, I was left wishing the film had given Apple more room to develop, as it introduces hints of a deeper emotional journey but never fully allows her to step into it. Wonders brings so much personality and warmth to the character that it feels like there was more potential waiting to be explored.

Visually, I Want Your Sex is pure Gregg Araki. The production design, costumes, and use of color create a world that feels like a living piece of provocative pop art. Every frame is bursting with personality, matching the film’s larger-than-life approach. Araki understands that eroticism in cinema is not just about what is shown, but about atmosphere, confidence, and the emotions surrounding desire.

What makes I Want Your Sex such an exciting return is that it never feels like a filmmaker simply trying to recreate the past. Instead, it feels like an artist examining how the conversation around sexuality has changed. The film challenges the idea that being surrounded by sexual imagery automatically means people are comfortable with sex itself. Beneath all its chaos, it is ultimately a movie about vulnerability and the fear of truly letting someone else see you.

Not everything lands perfectly, and the film’s exaggerated style will undoubtedly be too much for some viewers. But that excess is also what makes it special. I Want Your Sex is a bold, hilarious, and unexpectedly thoughtful reminder that cinema can still be dangerous, playful, and completely unafraid to make audiences uncomfortable.

Gregg Araki has made a film that feels like a neon-colored fever dream — one filled with desire, absurdity, and genuine curiosity about what makes people tick. Even as someone coming to Araki’s work without much familiarity with his previous films, it is easy to appreciate the confidence and individuality behind this strange, fearless experience. I Want Your Sex is weird, provocative, and one of the most entertaining cinematic experiences of the year.

I Want Your Sex will be released in theatres on July 31.