Sex, Lies, and Videotape
1988, US, Directed by Steven Soderbergh
Colour, Running Time: 96 minutes
DVD, Region 2, MGM, Video: Anamorphic 1.85:1, Audio: Dolby Digital Surround
Affluent couple, John and Ann, are living an apparently idyllic lifestyle that conveniently conceals the adulterous behaviour and vocational amorality of the former (he’s a lawyer…) along with the marital discontent and sexual repression of the latter. John is mating with Ann’s sister (obviously without Ann’s knowledge) while Ann is in therapy talking about excess garbage around the house in an attempt to steer around the issues that are subconsciously disturbing her. Things are shaken up with the arrival of John’s old college friend, Graham. Graham stays at their house for a few days while looking for an apartment in the area, during which he gets to know Ann with significantly more intuition than her husband is capable of. Finally getting himself set up properly, Graham later receives a visit from Ann in his new apartment, the prudish woman clearly enamoured by the striking young man. There she finds, to her disapproval, he has built a large collection of personally filmed videotapes consisting solely of women talking about topics related to sex. She leaves immediately, later ‘warning’ her promiscuous sister (Cynthia) who has already become interested in the mysterious man she has only hitherto heard about. Cynthia is of course adamant she still wants to meet Graham and manages to dig up his address so she can visit him for herself. Being the complete opposite to Ann, Cynthia is more intrigued and decides to stay so she herself can be interviewed on videotape by Graham. Later on, Ann is shocked by Cynthia’s participation, the affair between Cynthia and John is put into jeopardy in addition to the fact that Ann herself is questioning the validity of her own marriage, particularly when she finds evidence of the affair.

Soderbergh’s feature-length directorial debut is impressive mainly due to its intensive character studies, an intricate weaving of the lives of a small number of people entwined, in one way or another, by sex. Graham is considered to be a disturbed individual by Ann due to the fact that his unorthodox lifestyle revolves around filming and viewing women discussing sex but, as he points out, compared to the suburbanites around him whose surface normality masks distorted psychology, he feels relatively healthy. Of course that’s not quite true, as his own unusual behavioural tendencies have arisen from a complex array of events just as they have in everyone, and are, as a result, difficult to explain (it’s still, however, something which Ann’s therapist tries in vain to do). The point I think is that there is not really any such thing as complete normality - abnormalities can only be concealed. Possibly this film may progress too slowly for some people but the dramatic microcosmic universe can absorb the senses to a degree where the viewer becomes almost as involved in the world portrayed as the inhabitants are. Indeed, when Graham’s videotapes are playing Soderbergh often fills the entire frame with them as if it’s us who’s watching them rather than just Graham. James Spader has had a knack for choosing roles that are unconventional and brave from a popular actor’s point of view (e.g. see also Secretary and Driftwood) and his interpretation of Graham was brilliant enough to earn him an award at Cannes. The other actors (including Andie McDowell [before her temporary rise to grace] as an easily embarrassed Ann) suitably become their characters also while Cliff Martinez provides a dark, ethereal, understated score that emphasises the twisted elements of the characters’ brains - he later also composed the exquisite score for Soderbergh’s often misunderstood Solaris remake. As an exploration of the way sex has become an isolated and sometimes maligned (but persistently dominating) entity in the wake of social progression using characters that are encumbered by its perpetual burden, Sex, Lies… is a fascinating study.
The image quality, while displaying a little fuzz, is very detailed for a catalogue title but the sound could have done with a little muscle added, betraying as it does the limitations of the original recordings. It is technically a surround track but there is little surround activity, though the source is primarily vocal-based. As far as extras are concerned you don’t get a damn thing on the UK disc. This is one film that really could have benefited from a director commentary and is sorely missed here - indeed, the US disc included that commentary so why wasn‘t it on the UK equivalent? There’s not really much excuse for that. However I wanted to own this film so the disc (which can admittedly be cheaply purchased) will do until such a time as MGM consider this worth working on an SE for.