In the new film Men, Women and Children, Crash director Jason Reitman, does a brilliant, excruciating job of examining the first generation to come of age on smartphones. But they aren’t the only generation battered by the momentum online.
YBOP visitors will recognize that Dad apparently has delayed ejaculation from watching too much internet porn, and sex-loving Mom now finds his lovemaking too onerous to bother with. Their 15-year old son has been watching internet porn since age 10 and has escalated to fetishes (currently femdom). He can no longer climax to provocative images of his peers.
Even after training with a simulated vagina (in the form of a carefully sculpted, lubed nerf football), when The Big Moment arrives to hook up with a hot cheerleader, he is a complete flop. Instead of engaging in foreplay he masturbates vigorously to attain an erection, which he loses upon entry. Both teens are embarrassed and baffled by his porn-induced erectile dysfunction. Not surprisingly, Miss Hottie wants nothing further to do with someone with “deep sexual issues.” Neither has a clue that his performance problems are likely porn-related (and therefore reversible). In any event, there’s no affectionate bond or mutual trust within which to work though such a challenge.
Reitman uncompromisingly portrays the truth that his characters’ problems are not strictly due to new technology. Their roots go back at least a generation or two. Sure, the internet has made it easier than ever to use sex and sexual stimuli without the bother of nurturing an actual pair bond. Yet it’s apparent that many of the parents in this movie have themselves sold their physical charms in hopes of advancing their careers or pursued jollies and new mates at the expense of relationships and children.
No one’s compass needle seems capable of finding “balance,” although the common sense of various dads comes closest by the end of the movie. Their vital contributions are a poignant reminder of how tragic it is that a growing percentage of men are disappearing into the supernormal stimulation of the internet, their leadership lost to society, mates and children.
Reitman provides a mirror not a sermon. In fact, he refused to adopt the tired frame of “morality versus freedom,” which the press and our sexologists insist is the “real issue” when sex causes chaos. (What century are they operating in, anyway?) Sexual repression is the farthest thing from the movie characters’ genitals. They have all the freedom they want, with one exception–a young woman who actually reads boeke and proves the most capable of authentic relationship, independence and sound judgment in the face of emergency.
Predictably, critics have panned the film. After all, it demolishes our wishful thinking about the mechanics of human pair bonding and the need for balance in our seksualiteit, as well as spotlighting the snags in some very lucrative technologies.
Never mind the critics and their cries of “hysteria” and “moral panic.” See the film for yourself. Then think about thanking Reitman and Paramount for taking on the task no one else in the mainstream wants: informing the public of the risks of today’s internet, especially for youngsters.
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