Perhaps the most surprising thing about Lars Von Trier’s “Nymphomaniac,” Volume 1 of which opens in the US this weekend (our review is here) is not Shia LaBeouf’s accent, it’s that it’s a film that is totally, unashamedly, unavoidably about sex. While coitus, rumpy, intercourse, balling, humping, beast-with-two-back-making does feature in some shape or form with extreme frequency in cinema, it only rarely forms the central, wait for it, thrust of the story, likely partly because distributors (especially in the U.S.) are often accused of a streak of puritanism when it comes to sex, particularly when compared to the their much more carefree attitude toward violence, and partly because even today mainstream audiences can be put off by even a whiff of the smutty-old-man-in-a-dirty-mac connotation. Which means that furthermore, films like “Nymphomaniac” that delve into the darker recesses of human sexuality—power play, taboo fantasies and fetishes, BDSM, sex addiction, etc—are even fewer.
[Spoilers for John Green’s Looking For Alaska, An Abundance of Katherines, Paper Towns Will Grayson Will Grayson, and TFIOS]
Let me preface this by saying I love John Green. Like, I LOVE John Green and Hank Green and vlogbros and everything John has ever written. The nostalgia (and observance…
YES YES YES!