I don’t want to say that American cinema has become increasingly and mystifyingly shy in regards to sexual content in recent years but consider the fact that the high-water mark for multiplex content this summer has been, of all things, Oppenheimer. (By comparison, even the self-proclaimed raunchy sex comedy No Strings Attached, for all its verbal vulgarity, proved oddly reticent in this area.) Therefore, it will no doubt come as a great relief to those who do not go into a handwringing fit at any hint of on-screen sexuality (complete with Twitter debate about whether such moments are “gratuitous” or not) that Passages, the latest film from Ira Sachs, is a work that, like its central character, does not shy away from straight-up fucking of all varieties. Honestly, at his point, I would be more than willing to give this film a recommendation on that basis alone—anything that turns up the in-theatre temperature these days is worthy of notice in my book. And yet, as hot as the sex scenes on display are (and they have earned the film an NC-17 rating), they are just one component, albeit a necessary one, in what is one of the more piercing and bruising adult-oriented relationship dramas to come along in a while.
The character in question is Tomas (Franz Rogowski), a self-absorbed and fairly narcissistic filmmaker who is married to the more reticent artist Martin (Ben Whishaw) but is seemingly always on the hunt for a new conquest that he delights in then reporting the details on to his partner. At the wrap party for his new production, he meets teacher Agatha (Adele Exarchopoulos) and immediately begins an affair with her that even leads to him convincing himself that he is in love with her, though what “love” means to him is somewhat dubious. This finds him bouncing back and forth between her and Martin, to whom he tries to justify his behavior by saying that he should be happy that he is exploring new areas of himself. Of course, Tomas is not quite as sanguine when the marriage finally collapses and Martin begins seeing an author (William Nadylam) who is handsome, accomplished and doesn’t seemingly revel in humiliating Martin at every turn in order to feed his gargantuan ego.
Of course, a film following the adventures of a sexually voracious narcissist who seemingly goes out of his way to hurt anyone who he manages to charm into his orbit might not exactly sound like the kind of film that would inspire a lot of people to fork over the price of admission. That would be their loss because this is Sachs’ strongest work to date by far and one of the more compelling observations of contemporary relationships to come along in quite a while. The screenplay is smart and incisive in the way that it depicts Tomas, his unshakable desire to be adored as a bizarre stab at personal fulfillment, the often heedless and thoughtless ways he goes about attaining that feeling and the ways that his targets try to process and compartmentalize his behavior until it becomes too much to bear. (In this regard, it goes right up there on the shelf with two of the best films about toxic relationships that I have ever seen, Albert Brooks’ Modern Romance and Joanna Hogg’s The Souvenir.)
At the same time, the film recognizes that, for all his charm, that he is a bit of a bastard and indeed, one of the best scenes in the film comes when he meets Agathe’s mother and, unmoved by his charms, calls him out on his bullshit. Therefore, the film is almost entirely dependent on Rogowski’s performance as Tomas—if we don’t believe that he has the kind of charm to attract and keep people despite his incredible bad behavior or that there is more to him than simple caddishness, the whole thing would collapse before our eyes. Happily, Rogowski is pretty magnificent throughout—with his undeniably magnetic personality, you can readily understand the attraction that so many feel for him but at the same time, you also get enough of a sense of the deep insecurities that drive him to such gross behavior to feel a genuine sort of sympathy towards who he is and why he does what he does. As the two people caught up in Tomas’s web, Whishaw and Exarchopoulos are both excellent at suggesting why their characters would be attracted to him, despite his bad behavior, and the ways in which they quietly put up with his nonsense until the time finally comes when they can longer stand themselves for doing so.
It may seem strange to put a serious-minded (though with some very funny moments as well) adult drama out in theaters during the normally blockbuster-heavy summer season—especially when the NC-17 rating will place further limitations on where it can play—but for those who have already seen Barbie and Oppenheimer and are thirsting for something different, Passages is an ideal bit of counter-programming. Here is a film that deals with human behavior (often of the very bad variety) with insight, sensitivity and intelligence and does so in a quirky and undeniably compelling. As I alluded to earlier, it even has a couple of what once used to be referred to as Good Parts and in this case, they are not only integral to the story and our understanding of the characters but genuinely steam up the screen in a manner that we haven’t seen in a while. Yes, I concede that for someone just looking for a harmless film to zonk out in front of after a long week, Passages might not immediately seem like an ideal candidate but those looking for something that they will be remembering and reflecting on for a long time to come—and not just those aforementioned Good Parts—this is a must.