Bel Gatti can’t have sex, so her therapist suggests she make a film about it, turning her supposed external trauma into a boomerang. We witness the daily narration of her life, with her babysitting job, visits to her mother and grandmother, her real and fictional kisses and her personal search. The landscape is also populated by dildos, drag performances and an actor possessed by Andy Warhol himself. Everything passes through filters, gifs, stickers, post-contemporary aesthetics and the closeness that the length of the director’s arm gives us for this intimate social network diary, a hyper-documentary that tries to interpret this hypersexualised society. And fun, a post-humorous fun. Would you dare to laugh?
