Spoiled Appetite: The Role of Desire in Fresh, Raw, and It Follows
Horror and sexuality seem to go well together quite nicely, huh? Hopefully, we’ve moved beyond the trope of the sexually active teenage girl getting murdered as her comeuppance. Perhaps there are more interesting ideas to explore within horror than simply the punishment of female sexual desire. Instead, we have moved towards a meta exploration within films of this trope.
Praised for its 38-minute-long, enrapturing intro, the recent release Fresh (2022) by Mimi Cave has garnered a significant following–partly because of the fun, flirty undertones of this horror flick, and partly because of its stars: Daisy Edgar-Jones of Sally Rooney’s “Normal People” and Sebastian Stan of, well, all of our hearts. Edgar-Jones plays Noa, a 20-something-year-old with dating discontent due to all the douchey dudes on dating apps. When Noa finally experiences a rom-com-worthy meet-cute, she decides to take a chance on the chivalrous and attractive stranger named Steve.
Nick on Letterboxd states: “Expanding on its premise of cannibalism, Fresh incorporates themes of gender issues and modern relationships into this meaty little fable where the power struggles between sexes are presented as a psychological cat-and-mouse game.”
As a modern feminist revenge thriller, Fresh offers some pretty bone-chilling horror material, all enhanced by some neat cinematography and a beautiful color grade. The cannibal trope, while not being incredibly innovative, did not feel overdone or stale given the new takes and twists that the story offers viewers. While it is delightfully easy to consume, Fresh offers some deeper interpretations and themes upon closer reflection. Desire is pervasive throughout the film, driving the characters’ motives. Our appetites for hunger and sexuality intertwine quite nicely, often serving as metaphors for the other. The exploitation of one results in the profit in another.
When streaming this film I couldn’t help but recall Raw (2016) by Julia Ducournau of recent Titane (2021) acclaim. I initially drew the connection due to the superficial similarities: indie aesthetics and a female coming-of-age protagonist mixed up in a tasteful amount of cannibalism.
In short, Raw (2016) is a brilliant coming-of-age film following a young vegetarian, Justine, at veterinary school, who begins to crave human flesh. Provocative and nuanced, Raw handles sexuality and desire with such intimate care and devotion. In many ways, this film does what Fresh fails to do. The emotions and symbolism have stuck with me long since I first experienced them, and one of my main takeaways was how hungry, or even insatiable, one can be during this coming-of-age experience. How do stimuli affect our new hungers? How do depravity and desire interact with each other? To what extent would I go to in order to fulfill my desires?
One key difference between the two films is the sort of initiation of the two characters. (Spoiler alert!) One readily enters into the desire pipeline, while the other stays vigilant against any indoctrination. While Noa is given the opportunity to become the predator who profits off young women like her, instead she stays true to her escape plot. Possibly more interestingly, Justine ends up consumed by her desire, becoming an insatiable cannibal, questioning what it means to be the victim or the prey. How does one individual become the monster?
In fact, the incredibly interesting character of the victim-turned-wife-and-predator would have been an excellent person to dive deeper into in order to explore the role of appetite in this film.
Additionally, Fresh seems to fall flat in exploring some of the more needed narratives such as the racial dynamics of women victims. The film could have dived deeper into Steve’s victim-lovers being white and their privilege as white, conventionally attractive, and able-bodied women. Without that, the story feels somewhat like a “White Feminist” film.
Another key film within the recent indie thriller canon is It Follows (2014). The teenager Maika becomes cursed after her first sexual experience with her boyfriend. The curse is a sort of supernatural STD that is terrifying, gruesome, and deadly. Death relentlessly marches towards Jay in the form of friends or strangers, invisible to anyone else, and Jay must pass the curse to someone else through sex to avoid it for the time being.
Despite being written and directed by a man, this film is an incredibly refreshing rejection of the female sexual punishment trope within horror, while also being one of the most effective and horrifying indie thrillers of this era.
Simon Abrams claims, “‘It Follows’ is not really about sex, but an unbearable, unsinkable mood that descends when you come of age, and never completely dissipates, not even after climactic sexual, or other violent acts.”
Indeed, the characters in It Follows face the double-edged sword of growing up and facing mundanity, impermanence, and sexual activity as a sort of nonbeneficial, normal purgatory.
While Raw and It Follows offer incredibly nuanced coming-of-age, horror stories featuring themes of sex and desire, they urge viewers to look at the role of perpetrator and victim, and what happens when one’s appetite becomes spoiled. Fresh’s contemporary take on victimhood and online dating leaves a bit to be desired but offers much artistic merit as a stand-out new release.