How To Have Sex Review (2023 London Film Festival)
The meme has become a movie. You know the one – the girl cornered in a club by a drunken boy and looking like she’d happily stick pins in her eyes instead. Her disgusted expression says it all. In How To Have Sex, it’s as if debut director Molly Manning Walker has taken one of the most familiar images of the 2020s, turned it into a feature film – and taken it even further.
As teenagers, we probably all wanted a holiday like this – no family, just friends, so complete freedom. Partying all night, chilling all day, lots of alcohol, boys and the prospect of getting laid. All of which is exactly what this group of girls talk about incessantly. Tara (Mia McKenna-Bruce), the youngest of them, has this on more on her mind than the others: she’s the remaining virgin of the group but, despite her apparently wild and extrovert nature, it’s something she’s never planned on giving away lightly. And, along with her friends, she finds herself struggling to navigate the complexities of self-discovery, sex and, most significantly, consent.
What initially sounds like a dream turns into something of a nightmare in sun-drenched Malia, where the smell of sweat, booze and vomit is all-pervasive at night. During the day, when the town’s streets are only populated by litter, the hotels and apartment blocks reek of suntan lotion and Thierry Mugler Angel or other smell-a-likes. The film does too, such is Manning Walker’s skill in creating the two faces of the resort, as well as the darker side that everybody knows is there, but nobody wants to acknowledge. For Tara, it comes in the shape of Paddy (Samuel Bottomley), one of a group of lads in the apartment next door, a seemingly likeable, easy-going guy and an unlikely predator.
It would be too easy to slot How To Have Sex into the conventional “coming of age” category. It’s more of a rites of passage, an experience that’s a girl’s worst nightmare, and one that’s destined to continue as she tries to decide whether or not to speak up. Manning Walker gives us an absorbing look at the apparently hedonistic holiday we all think we know about, either through personal experience or hearsay. But, instead of concentrating on its darker aspects, the film’s tone varies: fun is counterbalanced with the serious, there’s excitement coupled with the ordinary, and uplifting moments are up against more troubling ones. It’s an affectionate portrait of teenagers, from the friendships between the girls (where Tara is, essentially, the odd one out) to the embarrassing on-stage antics in the clubs.
The young cast approach their roles with energy and authenticity. McKenna-Bruce is excellent: her Tara appears to be having the most fun yet is the least comfortable with the constant partying, drinking and emphasis on sex. Shaun Thomas’ Badger doesn’t entirely fit in either: he’s the nice guy among the group of boys, genuinely caring, but less streetwise than his friends and often the butt of the joke. And perhaps the most impressive aspect of the film is that it passes no judgement on the teenagers’ behaviour, even at its most extreme. Cliches are replaced by compassion as we’re shown that the pounding music, laughter and appearance of a good time isn’t all that it appears.
★★★★
Watch our interview with the cast of How To Have Sex.
Drama | London Film Festival, 10 and 12 October 2023. UK cinemas, 3 November 2023 | MUBI | Certificate: 15 | Dir. Molly Manning Walker | Mia McKenna-Bruce, Samuel Bottomley, Shaun Thomas, Lara Peake, Enva Lewis, Laura Ambler.
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