Catherine Bray 

Touch Me review – tentacle sex abounds in psychosexual horror that’s like live-action hentai

Addison Heimann’s stylised alien horror is as zippily amusing as it is sensual, with more than a bit of Rocky Horror in the mix
  
  

a woman and a man lie near each other, bathed in purple light.
Difficult dynamic … Joey (Olivia Taylor Dudley) and Craig (Jordan Gavaris) in Touch Me. Photograph: Publicity image

Addison Heimann’s second feature wears its heart – and other appendages – on its sleeve; it is the queer, disaffected millennial live-action hentai psychosexual horror-drama-comedy that a fairly specific slice of the viewing public has been waiting for. It’s mostly about the friendship between Joey (Olivia Taylor Dudley) and Craig (Jordan Gavaris), which from the start is clearly affectionate and a little bit problematic. He pays the rent, she doesn’t; meaning he gets away with shenanigans like asking Joey to stay in her room with the lights out when his Grindr date comes over, because he’s told the guy he lives alone.

Into this dynamic struts Joey’s former lover, Brian (Lou Taylor Pucci), who is more than a little bit problematic himself. He has plenty of charm, choreographed dance routines for days, and is an (almost literal) demon in the sack. In fact, he’s a sometimes-tentacled alien – and he’s also a narcissist. As a character, Brian feels a little modelled on Frank-N-Furter from Rocky Horror, with a hedonistic outlook, pansexual orientation and ear for a toe-tapping tune – though his aesthetic is less fishnets, more Jesus in a hip-hop tracksuit.

Heimann has so much to say about difficult friendship dynamics, difficult relationship dynamics and general millennial malaise that it’s a relief that the tone and pace is mostly light and zippy (though it could probably meander a little less than it does). There are several genuinely hilarious moments once the film kicks into horror mode, as the manipulative, self-pitying and narcissistic alien defends himself in much the same way as a manipulative, self-pitying and narcissistic human might, with the hollowness of his words made gleefully transparent by the horror context. “I’m the real victim in this situation … if I hadn’t fallen for your beauty and elegance,” he whines at one point. The cherry on top of this admittedly weird cocktail is a strong streak of genuine sensuality – if it’s your first encounter with tentacle sex on screen, you might be surprised how appealing Heimann and his cast have managed to make it seem.

• Touch Me is on digital platforms from 4 May.

 

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