For nearly a decade, a steady stream of books, podcasts, and public discussions has attempted to solve a persistent cultural puzzle: why is Generation Z not having sex? Recently, however, the cultural pendulum appears to have swung in the opposite direction. As “smut” literature gains popularity and prestige television highlights the lives of OnlyFans creators, independent cinema has pivoted toward kink and sexual exploration. This summer, a collection of new films is using the messy, often confused sexual experiences of young protagonists to examine the unique attitudes of a generation caught between progressive ideals and a restrictive reality.
The central paradox for Gen Z is that they are arguably the most sexually progressive generation in history, yet they remain deeply influenced by a climate of sexual conservatism. The 2022 overturning of Roe v. Wade served as a major turning point, with data indicating that 16% of single Gen Z adults now feel increased anxiety about dating. This tension is explored in the romcomOne Night Onlywhich depicts a dystopian reality where Congress has banned premarital sex, allowing for a single night of legal freedom each year. The film follows Owen, played by Callum Turner, and Allie, played by Monica Barbaro, as they navigate a series of mishaps to connect during this window.
Despite its political premiseOne Night Onlyavoids deep commentary on authoritarianism, instead using the government ban as a plot device to create obstacles. For instance, Owen struggles to procure condoms that carry a $2,000 price tag, a hurdle reminiscent of the classic “missed connection” tropes found in 90s romantic comedies. The film offers little insight into the characters’ lives prior to the ban, making Allie’s search for her “Prince Charming” feel generic. While the film captures the inherent awkwardness of modern dating, it misinterprets the current “sex recession” as a lack of libido, ignoring the existential alienation and digital-age isolation that define the Gen Z experience.
Other summer releases suggest that sex alone cannot resolve the fundamental loneliness of modern life. In Gregg Araki’sI Want Your SexElliot, a studio assistant played by Cooper Hoffman, finds himself caught in the orbit of his provocative boss, Erika Tracy, portrayed by Olivia Wilde. While the film initially keeps the characters in rigid roles, a chaotic, doomed threesome with Elliot’s roommate Apple, played by Chase Sui Wonders, shatters their dynamic. The encounter forces the characters to confront their own muddled desires, highlighting the emotional distance that remains even when they are physically intimate.
This theme of self-discovery through a mentor figure appears across several films, includingThe Invitewhich Wilde also directed and stars in—and Jane Schoenbrun’sTeenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma. InCamp Miasma29-year-old filmmaker Kris, played by Hannah Einbinder, is tasked with rebooting a slasher franchise that once sparked her own “queer awakening.” She enters the project with a singular focus on “DESIRE,” a word she records in her journal in bold block letters. Unlike other films that treat sex as an isolated problemCamp Miasmaweaves together sex, death, and art as inseparable human impulses.
Through her relationship with the franchise’s original “final girl,” Billy Presley, played by Gillian Anderson, Kris learns that achieving artistic or sexual climax requires surrendering control. Billy teaches her that slashers are as elemental as desire itself, arguing that sex and art are visceral experiences that defy simple theorization. WhileOne Night Onlyuses bodily autonomy for comedic effect andI Want Your Sexremains cynical about modern “wokeness,”Camp Miasmaadopts a more sincere approach. Kris eventually moves past her desire to correct the franchise’s past transphobia, finding a deeper, more authentic connection with Billy that allows her to create a truly honest film.
Ultimately, these movies do not serve as blueprints for how young people should navigate their sexual lives; rather, they act as cautionary tales that highlight behaviors to avoid. Their value lies in their willingness to depict the messy, awkward reality of human connection. After years of unrealistic screen portrayals and a period where it seemed sex might vanish from cinema entirely, these films offer a welcome return to the screen, embracing the complexities of desire in all its unpolished forms. The report also notes that and since then, a deluge of books, podcasts and roundtables has tried to get at the bottom of the problem: why is gen Z not having sex, the first alarm bells sounded nearly 10 years ago. The report also notes that it merely presents obstacles for Allie and Owen to overcome – such as the $2,000 price tag for the condoms Owen attempts to procure – much like the missed connection brought about by a busy phone line in a 90s romcom. The report also notes that which means that Allie’s complaints about the difficulty of finding her “Prince Charming” come off generic, indistinguishable from any number o, we know nothing about what these characters’ lives were like before the ban. The report also notes that recently it’s as though culture has been recalibrated to make up for the youth’s apparent frigidity. The report also notes that zoomers live under the influence of rampant sexual conservatism, there is a contradiction behind gen Z chastity: despite being the most sexually progressive generation ever. The report also notes that which means that Allie’s complaints about the difficulty of finding her “Prince Charming” come off generic, indistinguishable from any number of complaints that I, a married zoomer, have heard from my single friends about dating in the age of apps, we know nothing about what these characters’ lives were like before the ban. The report also notes that let alone how to initiate sex – a process often awkward, if not outright painful, for everyone no matter their age (This much, at least, One Night Only gets right.), knowing how to relate to one another is hard enough.
