Cast: Julian Sands, Saffron Burrows, Stefano Dionisi, Kelly MacDonald, Gina McKee, Femi Ogumbanjo, Jonathan Rhys-Meyers, Hanne Klintoe
Director: Mike Figgis
Producers: Mike Figgis, Annie Stewart
Screenplay: Mike Figgis
Cinematography: Benoît Delhomme
Music: Mike Figgis
U.S. Distributor: Sony Pictures Classics
The Loss of Sexual Innocence is the latest effort from British director Mike Figgis, who wears no fewer than four hats: director, writer, producer, and composer. Figgis, who put his name on the Hollywood road map with Leaving Las Vegas, has enough clout in the industry to champion something like this, which may have difficulty finding an audience in today's market. And, while The Loss of Sexual Innocence is not a masterpiece (at times, its obtuseness can seem ponderous and pretentious), it is nevertheless a fascinating experience, with the focus being on the artistic elements inherent in the medium rather than on the narrative. The film contains images of breathtaking beauty, and the structure is developed like the cinematic equivalent of poetry.
As the title implies, the film deals with the issue of sexual identity. The Loss of Sexual Innocence follows the life of Nic, a film ethnographer (played as a teenager by Jonathan Rhys-Meyers and as an adult by Julian Sands), through different periods in his life - as a young boy growing up in Kenya, as an adolescent coping with his first sexual encounters, and as a grown man involved in a stale marriage. Other tales are interwoven with Nic's, most notably those of twins (both played by Saffron Burrows) who were separated at birth but fleetingly encounter each other in an airport. There's also a stylized re-telling of Adam and Eve's expulsion from Paradise that takes a vicious jab at organized religion.
While there's nothing prurient to be found in The Loss of Sexual Innocence (in fact, considering the title, it's a relatively chaste film, although the "R" rating is deserved), a key theme relates to the importance of sex to the human experience. The characters are defined, at least in part, by their sexual activities. The central event of the film (which happens in the closing few minutes) occurs because of a sexual indiscretion on Nic's part - an impropriety that is built up to by his entire sexual history. Likewise, Figgis' version of the forbidden fruit is sex, and that's what causes Adam and Eve's fall.
More interesting than the film's thematic content, however, is the manner in which it is presented. Linear storytelling is out the window. The Loss of Sexual Innocence refuses to stay anchored in one time period, presenting disjointed pieces of a story without offering many clues about how they should be put together (although Figgis' use of amber filters helps a little). The production rejects the traditional narrative form, preferring instead to try something experimental. The result is curiously satisfying, because, while it leaves countless unanswered questions and loose ends, it demands thought and intellectual participation.
When asked his reasons for presenting the film in this manner, Figgis denounced the way the three act structure has become the filmmaker's Bible, then went on to attack the manner in which commercialism has destroyed the artistic elements of film. The Loss of Sexual Innocence is his attempt to restore art to the medium, and to prove that an involving, compelling experience can result from a fragmented narrative that relies more on music and images than dialogue. For the most part, The Loss of Sexual Innocence proves Figgis' point.
© 1999 James Berardinelli