Relax, It's Just Sex

When I set out to write about Relax, It's Just Sex (P.J. Castellaneta, 1998), I was going to describe it as a comedy. I laugh out loud whenever I watch it, and the title and box art certainly have a humourous flavour. Then I remembered that it deals with some pretty heavy stuff-- AIDS, gay bashing, death -- and a pivotal scene involves sexual violence. There goes my easy label. Still, it's the funny parts that I enjoy, more than the dark or maudlin parts, so I guess in the end I'll still call it a comedy, but with a caveat: be prepared for some difficult patches.

And another warning -- if you don't care for films in which the low budget is obvious in the sets and lighting (most of this one was shot at the producers' and crews' homes), or if rougher acting puts you off, this may not be for you. On the indie continuum I'd say it's closer to High Art than Go Fish.

That doesn't bother me personally. I'm more inclined to bitch about the heavy-handed ending (seeing a pattern yet?) and the way the main character disappears for a big chunk of time, late in the film, and then is never really reintegrated back into the story. But usually I'm too busy cracking up to work up much disappointment, and besides, it's not Vincey the frustrated gay man I'm interested in.

The other characters include a straight couple, two gay male couples, and a lesbian love triangle. Early on we learn (via flashbacks) that Sarina and Megan, who had been together a million years, have just split up because Megan is dating a man.


For comfort, Sarina turns to her pal Robin, who just so happens to have been pining after her in secret. Robin also happens to be the primary reason I love this movie. Characters I can relate to, really identify with, are few and far between (something I'm sure I'll go on and on about in a couple weeks when I review the new movie Butch Jamie). But here we have a genuine butch dyke, flannel shirts and sports jerseys and all. (Although I have a problem with her bedroom -- what self-respected butch has a freakin' canopy bed?)


"I know I'm not girly girly like Megan," Robin says at one point. "I'm not even girly girly like RuPaul. Shit, next to me, Janet Reno looks femme."


Anyways, Sarina and Robin get together, but Robin doesn't quite get everything she's been hoping for, and Megan's not entirely out of the picture either. The storyline feels very real to me and it's the only one in the film that comes to any kind of satisfying conclusion.


It's also the source of some of the most hilarious moments, like when Megan's mother expresses her extreme disappointment at the fact that her daughter is no longer a lesbian: "What are we going to tell our friends at PFLAG?"

The ensemble cast includes Lori Petty as Robin, Mitchell Anderson (If These Walls Could Talk 2) as Vincey, and Jennifer Tilly (Bound) as Tara, the fag-hag heart of the group of friends. The writer/director uses a very effective confessional-type device that helps weave all the storylines and characters together: we see "videotaped" clips of each character talking about things that have happened to them, and eventually we realize that one of them has been interviewing the others with a camcorder.

Maybe the reason I struggled to categorize Relax, It's Just Sex is that it's really one of a kind. Its plot is not one we've seen over and over again. Its characters are individuals rather than types. Its style is its own. I mean, how many movies can crack jokes about AIDS without stooping to a South Park level of crassness?

Anyway, I bought a copy because I've seen it a dozen times and I'm still laughing and still cheering for Robin. And, if I'm honest, still wishing there was more scenes of the girls getting down and dirty. On the DVD commentary, Tilly and Petty joke about filming extra sex scenes to help sell more copies. My answer to that? Yes please!