Josh Lawson and Bojana Novakovic in The Little Death (Magnolia Pictures)

Josh Lawson and Bojana Novakovic in The Little Death (Magnolia Pictures)

Written and Directed by Josh Lawson
Produced by Jamie Hilton, Michael Petroni, and Matt Reeder
Released by Magnolia Pictures
Australia. 96 min.
With Josh Lawson, Bojana Novakovic, Damon Herriman, Kate Mulvany, Kate Box, Patrick Brammall, Alan Dukes, Lisa McCune, Erin James, T.J. Power, Kim Gyngell, and Lachy Hulme

The Little Death, a dark comedy from writer-director Josh Lawson, takes us through the lives of five suburban couples, each grappling with a different fetish. (The title stems from the phrase le petit mort, French slang for orgasm.) Lawson’s film, irreverent but surprisingly heartwarming, explores sex, paraphilia, and the definition of normal.

The film puts to the test its characters’, and by extension, its audience’s reactions to paraphilia. Some of the characters pathologize fetishism, viewing it as abnormal or sick. Others embrace it. From its opening scene showing Paul (played by Lawson) luxuriously sucking on girlfriend Maeve’s toes, the movie seeks to make us uncomfortable. At the same time, it asks us to question our discomfort. There’s nothing especially lewd or untoward going on, so why would we react so negatively to it?

When Maeve (Bojana Novakovic) asks Paul early on if he could fulfill her rape fantasy, he is indignant, but she points out that it’s not too different from his “foot thing.” This surprisingly leads to one of the more entertaining arcs of the film, as Paul struggles to give Maeve the romantic rape fantasy of her dreams. As one of Paul’s friends points out, the scenario is a Catch-22: the second it becomes too realistic, she won’t enjoy it; if it’s not realistic enough, she won’t like it either.

Throughout, Lawson defies our expectations by bringing compassion and rich characterization into the sex scenes. The setups often seem ridiculous or extreme, but Lawson doesn’t go for easy jokes. His script embraces the absurdity of sex but also treats its characters seriously, making them more than just gags. For example, in the rape scene, the humor stems from how much Paul cares for Maeve and his conflicting desire to please her and his own concern to not hurt her.

The unwillingness to talk about sex in an open, honest way becomes a huge theme. All of the couples suffer a breach in communication. Rowena (Kate Box) realizes after her father-in-law’s death that she is most attracted to her husband when he is crying. In another relationship, Phil (Alan Dukes) is attracted to his wife only when she is sleeping. Both indulge their destructive impulses in pursuit of sexual pleasure, with Rowena coming up with creative ways to make her husband weep and Phil drugging his wife to sleep. They go to lengths to hide their fetishes from their partners, and when Phil’s wife becomes suspicious, he would rather admit to having an affair than tell her the truth.

The film’s strongest storyline occurs between a deaf man, Sam, and the sign language translator (via webcam) who interprets for him and a phone-sex operator. It’s a treat to watch mediator Monica (Erin James, who is fabulous) struggle to maintain her professionalism while becoming more and more uncomfortable with the transaction. Sam, played by T.J. Power, is also great, bringing charisma to an otherwise creepy, lonely character. In less skillful hands, a deaf phone sex caller could have been reduced to a one-dimensional joke, but here he is humanized by his banter and the shared jokes with Monica. Much of the humor comes from her interpretation, as she purposely tames down the conversation. When she first calls the hotline for Sam, she is read a long list of options ranging from bukkake to anal. She translates that to Sam as “They have straight and blondes.”  The scene (though brief) is reason alone to watch the film.

Fans of dark comedy and smart, raunchy humor such as British TV’s Nighty Night or Misfits will be turned on by The Little Death.