Philosophy in Film

A Philosophical Approach to Cinema

Review

Review: Desire (2017) ★★★★

Diego Kaplan’s erotic thriller, Desire or Desearás al Hombre de Tu Hermana (literally: “You Desire Your Sister’s Man”), has been met with a certain degree of controversy since it was added to the Netflix library. The film was allegedly reported to the FBI for displaying inappropriate content.

Having seen the film, I strongly disagree with this accusation, but I also understand why someone might one particular scene excessive. Putting the controversy aside, Desire is an exceptionally well-made film, exploring the complex relationship between two feuding Argentine sisters, whose sexual appetites (and those of their respective lovers) help fuel their hatred for one another.

Set around a rather bourgeois household in Argentina in the late 1960s/early 1970s, Desire opens with the now infamous scene of two sisters, Ofelia and Lucia, watching a television program. One of the girls imitates the cowboy she sees on screen, pretending that her pillow is a horse. This innocent play inadvertently turns sexual, causing her to collapse in exhaustion before her mother rushes to her aid. While somewhat shocking, this scene is used as a precursor to the woman’s insatiable sexual desire in the future. 

Following this introduction, the story fast forwards to their adult years. The two sisters have become estranged, but Ofelia (Carolina “Pampita” Ardohain) returns to attend the wedding party for Lucia (Mónica Antonópulos) and her fiancee, Juan (Juan Sorini). Their mother, Carmen (Andrea Frigerio) hosts the lavish party at her home on the beach, where Juan first encounters Ofelia in his bedroom, naked and shivering from jumping in the pool. Juan is instantly enamored with his sister-in-law. 

Desire 2017 dancing scene
Desire (2017)

Meanwhile, Lucia, enraged that her alcoholic and drug-addicted mother invited Ofelia, criticizes Ofelia’s Brazilian fiancee, Andres (Guilherme Winter) for acting boorish at her party. When Carmen falls into the pool due to tripping on LSD, both Lucia and Ofelia jump in after her, each desperate to one-up the other and prove themselves the superior daughter. As the days pass, Ofelia and Lucia’s bitter competition escalates, putting their respective relationships at risk. 

Though Lucia is vital to the story, she plays a secondary role to Ofelia, both in the narrative and from the perspective of the audience. Pampita’s character functions as both the primary object of desire and the main driver of the plot. In essence, she is a sex addict, and a woman that attracts the attention of every man she meets. On the other hand, Lucia, who has found success and a husband that she loves, lacks passion and vitality in comparison. This dichotomy between a sister with the “perfect” life and a sister who lives her life to the fullest underscores their bitter rivalry. 

With a name like Desire, one imagines a treat for the senses, and Diego Kaplan’s film delivers. The wardrobe, soundtrack, hairstyles, and sets all transport viewers to a different time and place, specifically Argentina in the 1970s. The colors are bright, the people are beautiful, and the sex is passionate. More importantly, the writing and performances all have the surreal feeling of a 1970s key party. Lust drives everything in the film, but you can never really predict what each character will do next.

Desire movie 2017
Desire (2017)

Though some of the performances are unexceptional (Pampita is known more for her modeling than her acting skills), most of the cast does an admirable job. Each character exudes a certain degree of natural sexual bravado that makes this erotic thriller even more erotic than most. The cinematography combines the sensuality of a softcore film with the lighting, staging, and coloration of 70s European art cinema. This combination of disparate elements will likely make some viewers nostalgic for the better sexploitation films of the past. Much like the films of Radley Metzger, Desire often uses sensual filmmaking techniques and visuals to titillate the audience, rather than explicit sex.

Netflix has remained loyal to the film, despite the unnecessary controversy that arose. I’m glad that the company did not cave to pressure and pull Desire off of its platform, as the film is a genuinely interesting and beautiful throwback to the era of “free love.” Ultimately, though not every viewer will agree, the superior visuals and 1960s/70s nostalgia more than compensate for the awkward and uncomfortable scenes.

Rating: ★★★★ out of 5

If you’d like to watch Desire (2017), it is currently available to stream on Netflix

Matthew Jones

Matthew Jones is a freelance writer who has written for dozens of local and international businesses, in addition to his publications on film and philosophy. To see more of his writing, check out his Medium page or personal website. If you like Philosophy in Film, be sure to contribute on Patreon!

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