A Coming-of-Age Film That Confronts More Than Just Adolescence
Molly Manning Walker’s How to Have Sex is anything but the provocative party romp the title might suggest. What unfolds instead is a deeply personal, at times harrowing, exploration of female adolescence, consent, and the contradictions of modern youth culture. Winner of the Un Certain Regard Prize at the 2023 Cannes Film Festival, the film is a bold feature debut that has earned both critical acclaim and global attention for its unflinching portrayal of teenage vulnerability.
The Plot: Freedom, Friendship, and Fractures
Tara (played with haunting precision by Mia McKenna-Bruce) heads to the sun-soaked resort town of Malia, Crete, with her two best friends, Skye (Lara Peake) and Em (Enva Lewis). Their mission? The quintessential summer experience: endless drinking, wild clubbing, and ideally, losing one’s virginity. But the glossy expectations of this “girls’ trip” begin to unravel quickly, and what initially feels like a dream soon reveals its darker layers.
Tara’s encounter with the awkward but well-meaning Badger (Shaun Thomas), and later the more forceful Paddy (Samuel Bottomley), sets off a chain of events that blurs the lines between choice and coercion. Beneath the neon lights and loud beats lies a narrative quietly pulsing with discomfort and doubt—a film that refuses to offer easy answers.
A Performance That Leaves a Mark
Mia McKenna-Bruce delivers a remarkably understated yet powerful performance. Her portrayal of Tara is so convincing that even when she says nothing, her expression speaks volumes. Her petite frame, wide eyes, and hesitant demeanor contrast starkly with the performative bravado around her, making her emotional arc all the more devastating.
More Than a Teen Drama: A Study in Consent and Culture
What makes How to Have Sex stand apart is its refusal to sensationalize or over-dramatize. There are no villains with menacing music cues. Instead, Walker paints the landscape of consent in shades of grey, where silence isn’t always complicity, and the absence of violence doesn’t mean the presence of agency.
This is where the film resonates the most: in exposing how societal pressures, peer expectations, and internal confusion often drown out the individual voice—especially that of young women. It captures a generation raised on party culture and filtered intimacy, only to be left to navigate real experiences without the tools to process them.
Visuals That Mirror Emotional Chaos
Walker, a trained cinematographer, fills the screen with contrasts. Nights are drenched in neon color and pulsating chaos, while mornings arrive with a dry stillness that feels more punishing than any hangover. The stylistic shift between the euphoric and the sobering works like a mirror for Tara’s inner turbulence.
The Power of Friendship and the Silence Around It
The film’s real emotional punch comes not from the acts themselves but from the aftermath—and from the way the three girls navigate their friendships in the wake of confusing trauma. Em serves as Tara’s anchor, often the only one tuned into the undercurrents of what’s really happening. Skye’s character, with her biting remarks and bravado, adds layers to the group dynamic, portraying how insecurity and affection often tangle in complex ways.
Why This Film Matters
How to Have Sex is a bold and necessary film that doesn’t water down its message. With a moving performance at its center and a story that never loses touch with reality, it forces the viewer to rethink what coming of age really means. It’s not just about freedom, but about figuring out what that freedom should look like—and what it shouldn’t cost.
Bullseye Rating:★★★★ (4/5 stars)
Now streaming on Prime Video.