Sebastian

It’s a cheesy name for a sex worker. It’s an apposite one for a young man bursting with literary ambition and keen to create an air of mystery, yet still naïve enough to kiss clients on the mouth. Clients find him delightful, of course. Still young and fresh and genuinely enthusiastic. He has regulars who treat him respectfully, even warmly. So far he has managed to have a positive experience and stay safe – but he has a secret, and he has no real understanding of boundaries.

Sebastian’s real name is Max. He’s an Edinburgh lad in his early twenties who has travelled down to London and somehow landed on his feet, freelancing for a magazine with a remarkably patient editor. it’s unclear how much this contributes towards London rent, but what is clear is that Max’s ambitions extend beyond journalism. His dream is to become an acclaimed author. He’s working on a novel about sex work, and for research purposes – or at least that’s what he tells himself – he’s moonlighting as a call boy.

Sex work generally relies on a promise of discretion as sincere as the seal of the confessional. Max isn’t naming his clients, so he tells himself it’s alright, but some of what he writes is extremely personal. There are obvious parallels with the Belle de Jour scandal of the early 2000s, but Max lacks the insight of Brooke Magnanti, and, along with it, any sense of when it might be politic to create a little distance. At the magazine, he is asked to interview Bret Easton Ellis, an author whom he more closely resembles in his ability to get into trouble and his blurring of fiction and life.

This works in both directions. Max keeps exposing a little more of himself, getting into emotionally and perhaps physically dangerous situations. The various fictions that he creates to hide behind conspire to trap him, in both his professions. When he gets into a relationship with a client – one that neatly flips the archetypes of artist and muse – there is an opportunity for respite, but by then he has become a commodity to his publisher, and to the degree that the film addresses exploitation in the sex industry, it is equally clear about its presence there.

Having set up all the elements of a thriller, the film proceeds to untangle them in a refreshingly different and mature way. Focused first and foremost on character, it forgoes easy solutions in favour of something more thoughtful, forcing Max to examine his internal as well as his external experiences and denying him any straightforward penance. Writer/director Mikko Mäkelä is very successful at putting us inside the headspace of a young man who thinks he understands the rules of the game before zooming back out to reveal a bigger picture framed by a different set of truths.

The supporting cast is excellent, with Jonathan Hyde and Hiftu Quasem particularly impressive. Mäkelä has taken a chance a casting TV actor Ruaridh Mollica in the lead, but the young star’s own relative lack of experience complements the role and he handles the tonal shifts well. There are a lot of sex scenes, but unlike some directors, Mäkelä never treats these as an add-on, present just to titillate. Some of them are not erotic in the least, and all of them provide opportunities for further character development and understanding of the shifting power dynamics in Max’s world.

The necessary self-consciousness of films about literary development is always a hurdle. There are occasional precarious moments here, where it would be all too easy for the narrative to tip over into something self-congratulatory and twee. Thankfully, Mäkelä holds the course. Sebastian is a worthy successor to his 2017 gem A Moment In The Reeds, and well worth spending an evening with.