At this point in my life, there’s a whole lot I’ve forgotten from middle school. Yet I never could shake our reading of Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis. You know, the story about a guy who wakes up to discover he’s turned into a giant bug? Certainly, one of the weirder tales ever gifted to me by my English teacher. I don’t, however, think we’ll be seeing writer/director Angus Silver’s Insectasy on school curricula anytime soon. It’s a hypnotic slice of eroticism that plays out like the ending of Metamorphosis…if a woman suddenly came in and had sex with the massive insect.
No, you didn’t misread that. And if you thought Kafka’s story was weird, you haven’t seen anything yet.
Insectasy introduces us to Sadie (Tirion Healy), a receptionist at a doctor’s office. From the get-go, we know two things about her: she’s a woman yearning for someone who can match her freak…and her freak is orgasming with bugs. What follows is a journey of lust, disappointment, and the ultimate self-discovery.
Just like Kafka opens Metamorphosis with the protagonist having already transformed into a bug, Silver sees no reason to ease the audience into Sadie’s kink. We aren’t with her as she gradually discovers a passion for insects that goes a few steps beyond casual interest. Nope. In the very first scene, we find the young woman masturbating as she holds a jar over her belly, letting the grasshopper inside crawl around on her flesh. Her voice softly narrates a sequence of images that sizzle with lust, whispering dialogue like, “I don’t want to make love. I want to be eaten alive”. Call it sexy insect ASMR. Call it screwed up. Whatever you like. Insectasy doesn’t care if you find it too weird, too gross, too…off. It’s Sadie declaring, ‘This is who I am, deal with it.’
Respect.
Rather than fantasize about bugs, however, Sadie has a different object of obsession in mind: Theo (Emmett Roiko). Her desire presents similarly to that of Angela Bettis in one of my personal favorite films, May. She watches Theo from afar. Her eyes linger over his face, his chest, his hands. The two even bond for the first time by sharing a cigarette and discussing odd stories from work. And, unsurprisingly, their relationship doesn’t exactly go the way Sadie wants.
Caught in the winds of lust, a score reminiscent of ’60s romances accompanies Sadie in her mission to reach ecstasy. Occasionally, her dull surroundings will transform into a fantasy drenched in old-school sepia and brimming with vibrant color. Silver doesn’t stop there, either. The filmmaker pulls out all the stops, incorporating matte paintings and stop motion such as fish swimming just outside our protagonist’s window. Altogether, it makes for a stunning aesthetic. No doubt, Silver is a director with a vision, one that he brings to pulsating life.
Like any good fantasy, what Sadie envisions paints a stark contrast to reality. When she isn’t daydreaming, her surroundings are plain. Boring. And so is Thom, emphasized by Roiko’s monotone delivery. That’s especially noticeable next to Healy, who captivates with a performance that’s both daring and reserved all at once. In fact, you could argue that the whole cast is made to sound as dull as a pet rock next to her to enhance the boredom of everyday life. Or maybe it’s just bad acting. You be the judge.
Either way, Insectasy isn’t a film about getting hot and bothered by bugs. At least, not necessarily. Yes, Sadie’s kink is the focus, but the cringe-inducing habit feels more like a shocking metaphor for the way others see what gets some people off. Let me be frank. While we don’t see all the nauseating details of what Sadie does, the mere thought of them may make you reach for the vomit bag. Ladies, why use a vibrator when you can just put a jar of crickets up there? Yes, it’s nasty. Yes, it’s disturbing. But that’s sort of the point.
Because what Sadie wants is what anyone wants when it comes to their own unique kink…someone who gets it. What better way to express how difficult it is to find acceptance, not just from someone else, but from yourself, when the perception of your kink, of you, is outright disgust? Again, like Lucky McKee’s May, Insectasy sees Sadie on a lustful, often disappointing, journey through self-discovery. It’s an intimate adventure not tied down to one specific tone. At times it’s sexy, nasty, sweet, quirky, weird as hell, and even a little scary. Because figuring out your sexuality encompasses all of that.
How much you enjoy Silver’s film is largely dependent on your willingness to go on this awkward, weird, romanticized fever dream of a journey with a woman who gets off on bugs crawling inside her. Me? I’m somewhere in the middle. For as much as I appreciate the filmmaker’s exploration of kink and the purpose it serves for everyone, it lacks the emotional maturity to fully engage with Sadie’s predicament. More often, Insectasy plays like a pulpy romance novel but with bugs, barely scratching the surface of what drives the characters outside of simple desire.
Still, Insectasy displays a fearless filmmaker in Silver. Between his unique vision and a story that embraces kink rather than shames it, consider this my timid thumbs up. At the very least, I’m sure Kafka would be ecstatic to see his work still inspiring such oddly erotic tales today.
Summary
Despite lacking a certain emotional maturity to make the heavier punches hit, Insecstasy delivers an aesthetically beautiful, kink-positive tale about finding acceptance in our sexual journeys.
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