Gregg Araki walks the walk. American culture likes to talk a lot about sex and whether or not we’re having it, but few culturemakers really want to do anything substantial about it out of fear. Araki has been saying fuck that, literally, since his 1990s indie beginnings, putting not only sex in his movies, but pushing the limits of taste to show the depths of people’s carnal desire, good and bad. I Want Your Sex is a nice easy entry into Araki’s filmography, and hopefully, a nice intro for people who want to explore their sexuality but are too scared to take the plunge, needing some sort of sexual Yoda to guide them into their pleasures.
Elliot (Cooper Hoffman) wakes up after a drunken crazy night, shocked to find his paramour Erika Tracy (Olivia Wilde) naked face down in a pool. Cops Zem (Johnny Knoxville) and Zola (Margaret Cho) bring Elliot in for questioning, where he tells them how he got to this place being a murder suspect. Erika is a well regarded but sunsetting artist working at her art studio. She hires Elliot, a wide eyed aimless twentysomething with a girlfriend Minerva (Charli XCX) who doesn’t really like him and a roommate Apple (Chase Sui Wonders) who he mooches off of for rent. Erika senses this boy toy is all pent up, and targets him for a BDSM relationship on the DL, resulting in 9 1/2 weeks (nice, Gregg) of boundary pushing coital delights…and sins.
By Araki standards, I Want Your Sex is a much more sedate affair. But for the moviegoing public of 2026? It’s a breath of fresh air. The movie taps into the moment and pairs a millennial against a Gen Z person, using Erika’s sexual reps to guide Elliot through his own personal discovery of his taste. Araki makes a smart parallel of sexual discovery with drug use, showing how the minute you get a taste of that high, you seek it, over and over again. The difference with sex though is that it taps into the deepest parts of your psyche, pure truth and acceptance of the self when it’s good. That self-realization comes with a cost: Elliot conflates this with connection, meaning he starts to be more and more drawn to Erika when the fornication veteran knows how to separate the desires of the flesh with the desires of society. Araki’s best moments are when other characters in Elliot/Erika’s orbit go through the same trials and tribulations with different results for those characters, who maybe weren’t as ready as the double E’s to accept their own truths as the leads are.
I Want Your Sex only works though if we believe Cooper Hoffman and Olivia Wilde’s connection. Fortunately, they’re both wonderfully cast. Hoffman has his dad’s gift of deep commitment to a character/story. I completely believed Hoffman’s Elliot was in a seeming sex fog of highs he can’t really escape from, because he’s so intoxicated by what Erika awakens inside of him. Wilde is even better. She’s been as fearless an actor as long as I can remember, perfectly cast to play a sexual shaman. Nudity comes natural to her, but more importantly, Wilde showcases the opposite of most people: she’s confident as hell in the bedroom, but putting on a show in the rest of her life, hoping to channel that confidence to her artwork. Every minute with Wilde the movie comes alive like we’re Elliot, experiencing our own awakenings at the badass goddess in front of us.
Be forewarned, I Want Your Sex fans. I can’t stress this enough, but 2026 Gregg Araki is honestly a more tame filmmaker compared to his younger self. The sex might be boundary pushing to you here, but if you loved this and are now going to watch his Teenage Apocalypse trilogy, just be ready. It’s gonna get gnarly for you. Maybe instead go out there and go on your own sexual identity discovery: that’s the real point of this movie anyways.