“Lust, Life, Love”- A Cinematic Exploration of Sex and Polyamory
By Spencer Jones
“When I love someone, the first thing I give them is freedom.”
This is one of the cornerstones of polyamory, the focus of Lust, Life, Love, which debuted virtually as part of the Berlin Independent Film Festival on February 11, 2021. It’s narrated by Veronica (Stephanie Sellars), who develops a devoted following through her blog chronicling her sexual adventures in New York City. She’s openly bisexual, which is integral to the plot, rather than something thrown in for shock and eye candy. It helps that Sellars co-directed the film, as female sexuality is rarely done justice by male directors, because they can’t speak to the experience firsthand. As writer, director, and actress, Sellars is a triple threat, nailing the nuance and sensitivity the subject matter requires. A female take on polyamory was long overdue, and this is the most balanced portrayal of it I’ve seen.
As a polyamorous woman myself, I’ve noticed that the scene tends to be predominately white, but Veronica’s circle of intimates is about as diverse as it gets. It includes Mexican artist, Pedro (Rolando Chusan), a stunning black yoga teacher named Maya (Makeda Declet), and Kali and Juna (Pilar Witherspoon and Peter Daniel Straus), the white couple Veronica seduces at the start of the film. Some of her lovers, such as Joanne (Jeanna Han), prefer to spend time with her in private, while others accompany her to sex parties. It is at one of these very parties where Veronica meets Daniel (Jake Choi), who is quite obviously a fish out of water in this world of freewheeling sex and kink. He’s curious, but for one problem. He’s in a traditional marriage with Kirsten (Renee Erikson), and he must decide whether the chance to broaden his horizons sexually is worth the risk.
Polyamory grants us the liberty to be attracted to multiple people, and to act on it if circumstances permit. For some, it consists of having a principal partner and other lovers in the margins, for others, it involves being intimate with several partners of about equal importance. For all her lack of convention, Veronica is a proponent of establishing boundaries and rules for herself, and articulates them when a new lover enters her orbit. Indeed, this is crucial in any relationship model, but arguably more so for polyamory because of the multiple persons involved. Under no circumstances is it perfect; the challenges require broad emotional bandwidth, maturity, and frequent communication to overcome. But if you are able to overcome them, there is great reward. Just as we can have more than one friend for different purposes and needs, we can rely on each lover to bring out the best in us, rather than unfairly putting all our expectations on one person.
Independent films allow for certain intimacy that sometimes those with larger budgets neglect. Lust, Life, Love doesn’t lean on CGI to make a point, and it finds a way to be frank in its depiction of sex between people of all genders and presentations without being crass. During the orgies, the camera sweeps over bodies writhing under atmospheric lights, lingers just enough, then respectfully moves on to action occurring elsewhere. When sex occurs on a more intimate scale, we don’t see this appendage entering that orifice, because we don’t need to. Strategic angles inform us exactly what is taking place, not to mention the closeups of faces contorting in pleasure and deep thought.
As for Sellars herself, I think some of her best acting occurs when she isn’t saying anything. It isn’t lost on her that she’s a firecracker. When she peruses her environment and those in it, her gaze penetrates, sharp and analytical, and the camera is besotted with her. She has a lovely bone structure that vaguely recalls a young Katharine Hepburn, and a vintage aesthetic. But as Veronica, she’s very much the modern woman, with an approach to love and sex that is anything but old fashioned.
The film doesn’t offer polyamory as a means to eradicate jealousy; that is a task as lofty as it is impossible. Instead, we are encouraged to acknowledge it as part of the spectrum of human emotion, and cope with it in constructive ways. Initially, Veronica manages to pirouette around jealousy with ease, almost looking at it as something beneath her. She’s befuddled when it crops up in her relationships, until she’s the one who feels it. Veronica basks in the freedom to love as she pleases, but is the fulfillment still there? Why does she oscillate from being content and even aroused when her lovers connect, to feeling like a third wheel? I think the answer is fairly simple: Veronica is human, and even the most free-spirited person wrestles with insecurity and fear. This might not be pretty, but the movie would ring hollow without it.
In the COVID era, we pine for the one thing we never imagined we’d go without for this long: human connection. As nightlife remains paused, the film allowed me to experience carnal touch vicariously through the actors, and relive fantastic nights of pleasure and spectacle. Some of the cast are actually part of the lifestyle, which loans more authenticity to their performance. As enjoyable as the film was, it did trigger a bit of sadness, as there’s no way to know when normal life will resume. How long until we can don costumes, gyrate to music, and satisfy our most primal of needs in secret locations? Time will tell.
In the wrong hands, Lust, Life, Love could have been understated or sensationalized, but it’s clever enough to avoid both. Whether you’re polyamorous or not, you’ll learn something new, and I have all the respect in the world for those that made this work of art possible. I hope to see it released on a streaming service so that it can reach a broader audience. It deserves it.
Photos courtesy of:
“Lust Life Love” page on Twitter: (3) Lust Life Love (@LLLthefilm) / Twitter
