I had been hearing buzz about this movie for some time. Word was that several film festivals rejected it because it pushes the limits of queer storytelling so aggressively. Set during a single, alcohol-fueled night in Los Angeles, the plot follows an internet sex worker and his former middle school teacher—a convicted sex offender. The narrative dives immediately into taboo subjects, trauma, and unresolved abuse. Having watched it now, I understand the festivals’ hesitation. A central theme permeates the film: the notion that the outward desire to be loved and the desire to be wanted can appear nearly identical, even when they are fundamentally different.
Aaron Eagle makes a living as a fetish cam performer, finding gratification in humiliating his audience by hurling slurs like faggot at them; evidently, there is a market for such behavior. When a stranger offers him fifty grand to spend a night together, Aaron accepts without hesitation and arrives at the man’s residence. Wearing a balaclava to conceal his identity, the stranger intends to record their entire conversation, peppering Aaron with questions to peel back the persona and find the real man. It becomes apparent quite early that Aaron is not being entirely truthful. Once the mask is removed, the man is revealed to be Hank, a man convicted and fired for the sexual abuse of a student, essentially a pedophile. As they discuss their histories, Hank eventually confesses the details of what happened with that student to Aaron. Aaron, in turn, shares stories of his childhood and the path that led to his current profession. Hank admits he has been in love with Aaron since Aaron was a child, though he never acted on those feelings. Throughout the night, they engage in role play, conversation, showering, and drinking, as Hank hopes to alleviate some of Aaron’s loneliness. Ultimately, the night forces Aaron to reflect on his past self versus his current identity, the decisions that brought him to this point, and his potential future. The film also offers a subtle look at how both men have constructed false narratives about their pasts—untrue stories that they rely on simply to function and survive.
Rather than attempting to deliver a grand statement, I feel this film simply suggests that there is always more beneath the surface, accessible only through attentive watching and listening, even when it feels uneasy. It is uncomfortable at times, I will admit that. However, the more I watched Aaron and Hank together, the more gripping the experience became. As they navigate their histories and discuss the daily burden of their trauma and their true identities, both characters come into sharper focus. You won’t find yourself agreeing with either man, but that very fact helps you perceive them as real people, a chance neither was previously afforded. It is revealed that a primary motivation for Hank arranging this night was to determine if he still loves the boy Aaron once was. Their dialogue explores dark, explicit, and controversial territory regarding sex and desire, lingering long enough to truly probe these subjects, which is precisely what creates the discomfort. While facing their insecurities and laying bare their secrets, both men still cling to the defenses they have built over the years. The film facilitates a real discussion on sexual perversity in general—whether it stems from loneliness or something more profound, and whether religion governs these impulses or merely conceals them. Both actors deliver incredible performances as these messy, complicated individuals; these are certainly not easy parts, and I suspect they both had doubts before filming.
The film concludes by carving out just enough space to humanize one of these men, though it never grants the other any reprieve. Because it was filmed entirely within a single apartment featuring only the two leads, the experience feels like watching two men being honest with one another—a dynamic that isn’t necessarily gentle, yet isn’t quite cruel. Both characters are flawed, yet both are worth watching.(7/10)
