I WANT YOUR SEX (2026) ★
This is really three different comedies braided together—a cross-generational sex farce, an art-world satire, and a California noir spoof (casting Margaret Cho and Johnny Knoxville as gruff police interrogators within that final strand is an inspired choice). By themselves, none of the three strands of the braid are entirely successful, and none of them really know how to end (with the arguable exception of the art-world satire), so this can feel a bit messy at times. However, there are jokes in each section that land, and the film gains a fair amount of mileage from switching between these modes: whenever one strand feels like it's beginning to pay diminishing returns, Araki gamely switches to another one, and the overall effect feels more lively than slapdash.
So a plenty entertaining night at the movies, with the entire cast giving game performances—but the film isn't just disposable fun, either. Nearly every major character here is grappling with the same core question—how do we balance our need for pleasure and gratification against our other needs (for safety and security; for emotional connection; for firm boundaries; for professional success; even for slower, more deliberate forms of erotic pleasure)? This question feels like a crucial one for our current sex-skeptical era, and the film presents a range of answers, none exactly being presented as "right" but none exactly presented as "wrong" either—all of them have their trade-offs; all of them have their rewards and their disappointments; all of them, from Grindr-powered promiscuity to bookish renunciation, look somehow imperfect when seen from the perspective of the next character over. This ultimate withholding of judgment here can feel like another way in which the film is "messy," especially if you're looking for clear answers or moral instruction. But I think it's to the film's enormous credit that it sees more value in leaving the question open than in trying to nail down an answer that will suit everyone—and it's an approach that allows us to consider the question, and our own responses to it, long after the credits roll.

