FILM REVIEW: AUTOEROTIC

A scene from Autoerotic.

Own is the loneliest number

By Don Simpson

Havelock Ellis, a British sexologist, defined autoeroticism as “the phenomena of spontaneous sexual emotion generated in the absence of an external stimulus proceeding, directly or indirectly, from another person.” Joe Swanberg and Adam Wingard’s film Autoerotic focuses on four heterosexual couples as they contend with relationship-crippling sexual arousal issues; however, Autoerotic is not always about self-arousal. Structured in four mostly autonomous vignettes (all with unnamed thespians): the first and fourth chapters reveal perverse men who are grasping at straws to achieve sexual satisfaction, whether it be the desire for a significantly larger penis or a penetrable mold of an ex-girlfriend’s vagina; the second and third chapters portray women whose sexual desires are insatiable, one cannot have enough orgasms while the other is unable to enjoy a complete orgasm (their male partners are little to no help in quenching their thirst).

Commencing with a good old fashioned iPhone-recorded spanking session, Autoerotic is just as much about watching others as it is about sexual gratification. (The male character in the first chapter is the only one who seems more satisfied while looking at himself in the mirror than at others.) Swanberg and Wingard’s focus on voyeurism places the audience in a somewhat awkward position. As we observe the questionable ways in which the characters observe each other in order to obtain arousal, we are forced to question what we are achieving from the footage. Are we becoming aroused? Is that okay?

Swanberg (Hannah Takes the Stairs, Uncle Kent, Silver Bullets) has never been one to abide by the overwhelmingly puritanical view of sex in Hollywood; and with Autoerotic, he and Wingard effectively comment on many cinematically taboo issues: male body issues, fetishes, the desire for orgasms, and the importance of communicating your sexual needs and desires to your partner. For Swanberg and Wingard, sex remains utterly confounding despite the openly frank conversation between partners and friends. Just as the characters are often not judgmental about their partners’ sexual idiosyncrasies, Swanberg and Wingard’s perspective is also quite open-minded. They merely seem interested in posing questions for their audience to ponder and discuss: Is autoerotic asphyxiation okay (what about erotic asphyxiation)? Is masturbation acceptable behavior (if so, how much is too much)? How do fetishes figure into romantic relationships? Is is acceptable to recruit a same-sex friend to help a pregnant woman enjoy a successful orgasm? How much kinkiness is okay before it becomes perverse?

SXSW 2011: SILVER BULLETS

Kate (Kate Lyn Sheil) in Silver Bullets.

Swanberg song

By Don Simpson

Blurring the line between fiction and reality, writer-director-producer-cinematographer-editor Joe Swanberg' film’s opts not to formally name any of the characters in Silver Bullets, most likely because all of the actors are playing fictionalized versions of themselves.

Joe (Swanberg) and Kate (Kate Lyn Sheil) are an onscreen couple who often work together on films -- the former as the director and lead actor, the latter as the lead actress. When Kate accepts the leading role as a werewolf in a new Ti West project, Joe finds himself casting a new leading lady, Kate’s friend, Amy (Amy Seimetz). Jealousy ensues. Joe rightly assumes that Ti has his eyes set on Kate while Kate becomes very upset that Joe would cast her friend in his next project because she knows that this also means that Joe and Amy will establish an extremely close (and naked) on-camera relationship. Oh, what an incestuous world of celluloid!

I do not think it is too much of a stretch to state that Silver Bullets is Swanberg’s most Godardian film to date -- and that is not just because it features a girl with a gun or an onscreen director with a penchant for cinema theory. This is a film in which Swanberg puts himself under the proverbial microscope, in true self-reflexive fashion, questioning his role as a filmmaker and as a sexual being.

Swanberg’s cinematic output has traditionally burst with unbridled sexuality -- a quality that I suspect may have caused some arguments with his off-screen lovers over the years. (Swanberg is currently married.) Silver Bullets appears to be Swanberg’s way of working through all of that, while directly addressing past criticisms of his work -- primarily that he is a predatory director who makes movies solely for the opportunity to make out with attractive actresses. It is important to note that Silver Bullets is much more sympathetic towards Kate; revealing Joe as a two-timing cheat.

Silver Bullets is also the most stylistically playful of Swanberg’s films, at least since Hannah Takes the Stairs. Swanberg tinkers not only with the visual aspects of cinema but with its narrative conventions as well. I have never really thought of Swanberg as an editor, but he does a beautiful job tying together Silver Bullets’ concurrent stories in an overtly artful fashion. Despite being completely unscripted, Silver Bullets is dramatically more complex than Swanberg’s previous efforts; it is also his most cohesive and coherent, especially in terms of purpose. Silver Bullets represents a clean break from Mumblecore (a genre not known for profound messages) for Swanberg. He has a lot to say, and the messages are relayed loud and clear.

Swanberg also premiered Uncle Kent at Sundance Film Festival 2011.