A sex worker embarks on an odyssey across the desolated landscape of Trashtown in the wild and vibrant F*cktoys, written, produced, directed, and starring Annapurna Sriram.
Annapurna Sriram is a filmmaker to watch. Fucktoys (I’m using the non-censored title for the remainder) is her audacious debut, poised to launch her career in glorious ways. Fucktoys bumps with an insane energy of driven filmmaking by a new filmmaker giving all her love to the screen and the audience. Across the runtime of Fucktoys, I was blown away by the unfolding skill and style.
Set in an alternate, pre-digital, post-some-sort-of-destructive-event world, Fucktoys follows a AP, sex worker played by the multi-hyphenate writer-director-producer Sriram. She’s told by a psychic (her obsession with getting her fortune told is a great running gag), played by cult-figure Big Freedia, on a raft in a lonely swamp, she has a curse, setting the strange tone and world. Of course, it can be removed… for a grand and a baby goat to sacrifice. Off AP goes on her Vespa (as the poster shows, notes of European sex-comedy, especially in her clothing choices) to gain the cash and free her soul.
AP’s journey is a wonder of comic insanity. It’s John Waters’ The Odyssey, by way of early Troma, and the love of purposeful camp. Even a dash of Ken Russell, listed as an influence by Sriram in the post-show Q&A at the second of two sold-out Seattle International Film Festival showings. She described Fucktoys as “bubblegum grindhouse” and that’s perfect. She builds a bright poppy world on top of fascinating decay, thanks to production design by Nichole McMinn melding with the real-life hurricane-torn, rusted-industrial-hell landscape of rural Louisiana. It helps that the film is shot in 16mm by Cory Fraiman-Lott, solidifying the aesthetic and atmosphere: the colors pop from the screen, bathing the viewer in the filthy glory of the landscape. It’s a visual treat of beautiful disgust.
It’s a hard balance to present camp without coming off as insincere, cynical, or forced. But Sriram melds all of her influences, those worn on her sleeve, with the right level of understanding, welcoming the ready and randy viewer into her filmscape. In a great touch, the absurdity lessens as the film progresses and her character grows. It’s a wonderful melding using the external world to represent the internal world of the character.
Across her darkly-comic journey of the desolation and delight, she meets a menagerie of interesting characters; other sex workers, a weird surbaban dad (well-trod character actor Damian Young’s Robert has vibes of Dean Stockwell in Blue Velvet in his look and performance), a lavish party, donut shops, a watercolor artist, and the aforementioned series of fortune tellers. Many of the actors are one-and-done scene-wise but they all make the most of their moment. The best and most consistent is bestie/companion/lover… soulmate? Danni, played by Sadie Scott, is a presence both chaotic (first seen in a for-fun fight in a home full of folks who might have just walked from the set of Dreamland era-Waters) and grounding; there’s a soul and care from their performance. They have an amazing, radiating charisma, and the connection of AP and Danni gives the film another push.
The world these people orbit is fascinating, with expert use of setting and design. There are notes of a broken caste-system, the haves and the have-nots, and how they use and abuse up and down the ladder. There’s a strangeness to the middle-and-upper classes with their physical and vocal affections upon aristocraic-makeup, as the sex-workers within her sphere interact, get victimized, and create victims from the moneied and power (the film is called Fucktoys after all, indicating how sex workers are often seen). Some of this is a little lost, needing an after-film think and discussion or more viewings to fully appreciate, but it’s there; and I appreciate taking more low-key rather than on-the-nose dialogue or directly talking ot the audience. The whole must be seen to see how the details come together. Hovering across the background are strange haz-mat suit-clad cleaners, continually wiping down every surface. An odd presence, representing the faceless, anonymous workers toiling at keeping our lives moving.
Sriram put together a hell of a film, but she brings it home as the lead. With her wide-eyed expressiveness, she brings an exciting verve to her own film. She’s magnetic to watch. Her acting career has been simmering, but Fucktoys should increase the heat a boil; for both in-front and behind the camera. It’s a measure of inane and insane skill.
Fucktoys is an explosive, dynamic debut for a filmmaker poised to go far. Annapurna Sriram has an amazing vision and design for her world, story, and characters. While it does come a little loose at points, with some concepts not fully developed, the innate talent is apparent. Fucktoys is sort of film of wild abandon, putting it out there that will play well with festival and niche audiences, gaining a devoted cult following. It might not transfer well to the general audience, but that’s okay (but I hope it does break that barrier). But it will transfer well for Sriham. Fucktoys will earn her a call from A24, “here’s 10 million dollars. Let us know when your film is done.” Wherever that leads, I’m in. But for now, we have Fucktoys, and, for that, I’m incredibly glad. Fuck(toys) yes!
Fucktoys is presented through the Seattle International Film Festival, running in-person screenings May 15th – 25th and selected online screenings March 26th – June 1st. See Siff.net/festival for more.