Sex, Lies & Depravity was an incredibly hard thing to endure. Not because of the aforementioned sex, lies, or even the depravity of the title, but because it is such a poorly constructed and downright bizarre affair that to get through it without your brain melting out of your left ear is a challenge. Sex, Lies & Depravity is composed of moving images accompanied by sound, but it is not a film, it is most certainly a thing.
As its title suggests Sex, Lies & Depravity is a pale imitation. Not of a specific film or even a genre, but of film itself. It’s as if the filmmakers have seen many films before and have maybe even picked up a camera, but every aspect of Sex, Lies & Depravity is so inept that it is a slight against cinema to label this a film. It’s narrative, if one can call it that, involves among other things two childhood friends attempting to reconnect, social services attempting to take away a child, and one of the friends also happens to abandon his girlfriend and child, taking up an affair with a young gay hustler.
It purports itself to be a ‘message’ film, to shed light on issues not normally explored in the filmic medium. Yes that’s right, addiction, poverty and sexuality are all issues no one wants to explore in cinema. What’s even worse is that the filmmakers add nothing new to the conversation; these are all things that have been examined by incredibly capable filmmakers in infinitely more interesting ways. Yes Sex, Lies & Depravity lamely attempts to shock (ie. the depravity aspect of the title) but that’s like saying you attempt to shower by washing behind your ears.
Extended sequences of men kissing or impotent attempts at violence might shock if you are an immature ten year old watching it, but even that is being generous. Everything about it is hackneyed, from the nonexistent acting to the confounding narrative, but worst of all is the quality itself.
There a low budget films and no budget films, and then there is Sex, Lies & Depravity. It’s never fair to kick a small film when it already acknowledges its own budget. Surely no one looks down upon the films of Shane Carruth because of their smaller scale. But when your budget (or complete and utter lack there of) completely obfuscates your narrative it’s time to return to the drawing board.
Though once viewed in an almost ironic light, Sex, Lies & Depravity’s visual aesthetic made it feel as if it was recorded on a damaged VHS camera by David Lynch’s third cousin in the depths of an ether binge. Please don’t let that potentially amazing scenario get your hopes up, this is not the second coming of The Room. Perhaps if any faint praise can be mustered Sex, Lies & Depravity qualifies as a failed experiment. An experiment that no one should ever be forced to see, but an experiment nonetheless.
