I Watched “Sex Diaries” on Max so you don’t have to
Available on Max (formerly known as, “HBO Max”) and other streaming services such as Hulu, apparently, Sex Diaries (2022), from creator Jenny Carchman, “chronicles eight New Yorkers in short, intimate profile as they navigate sex and dating in the city”, as described on its IMDb page.
We all know the old adage: “Sex sells”, but what about this throwback to HBO’s standby, albeit somehow never played-out, theme? What about sex is selling in this particular moment? Is it the Bushwick crowd sketching a man in a gimp suit, the onlookers in head-to-toe Doc Marten’s and thick-rimmed glasses? Is it the blurry shots of fingernails on shoulders in canopy beds or the shape of a thigh draped across a bed with a cat napping near by? Or is it something else entirely… The series really seems to be asking, in a world in which sex-work has become banal (ie Only Fans) and polyamory seems to be a new normal, what does risk-taking look like?
Comprising one season, divided into four episodes of varying lengths — all around 30 minutes each — this series is highly addictive and easily bingeable for the un and underemployed alike.
Somewhere between the glamorous realm of the Sex And The City series and the edgy hyperrealism of American Horror Story lies the delicate but raw world of Sex Diaries. Creator Carchman takes the viewer on an odyssey of intimate video diaries, filmed by eight New Yorkers from various, albeit predominantly middle-class, walks of life. Each story is — presumably — an authentic account of an individual’s love life in scale from the comparatively tame narrative of Mimi, a woman in her mid-twenties dating in East Williamsburg who finds herself in a heterosexual “situationship” (as the kids might call it) with her upstairs neighbor, to the not-so everyday Steve who, in the same episode, invites us into his afterwork life of latex and riding crops.
However, more interestingly than just about any of the individuals’ particular relationships to their own sexuality, all of whom seem relatively healthy and stable, is the documentation of their anxieties relative to the comfort of their romantic and sexual partners. While it’s not easy to accept oneself into the fold of just about any group, it takes a lot of courage to face the potential of losing a partner for the sake of one’s fetish, tribe, niche etc. In other words, the individuals highlighted might be the center of focus, but the docuseries seems to have a wider scope as a whole: the new relationship dynamics of the modern age.
“Soon everyone will be pansexual. It won’t matter if you’re gay or straight” — Samantha Jones, Sex And The City
As confirmed by any number of articles on the cultural impact of Sex And The City — now seeing a renaissance as a new generation of viewers takes over and nostalgia for a bygone time sets in — it’s true that, aside from the occasional passé slur from Samantha, the original run of SATC seems quite tame by today’s standards. Think about, for example, entire episodes dedicated to the thrilling idea of a three-way or the pearl-clutching had over discussing anal sex in the local café — all of which has a bit of a cartoonish sheen to it nowadays was, for a time in which Ellen DeGeneras was one of the few known out public figures, quite the statement to mention on any network, private or otherwise… I guess Samantha was right when she said, “soon everyone will be pansexual. It won’t matter if you’re gay or straight” (SATC Season 2 ep. 16)
But this article isn’t about SATC or any number of reddit holes on whom was worse for Carrie, Big or Aidan (it was Big). The series might be at times clumsy, and it may never pass the Bechdel Test, but it did do something that we need more of and “Diaries” seems ready to deliver: opening up a raw conversation on sex, sexuality and gender for the 2020s.
“Dating in New York is notoriously miserable ; you’re on a date with somebody and they’re sort of [looking] over your shoulder trying to eye up the next best thing. New York is a great place to hook up; I don’t know if it’s a great place to find intimacy.” — Reece, Sex Diaries
In Summer 2023, over two years since the arrival of lockdowns in the U.S., we are all craving intimacy. We crave intimacy in friendships, in our romantic relationships and, despite what some might say, even at work; we are craving to drop the mask, even momentarily, and unleash some part of our authentic selves in all situations in the off-chance that someone (or a few someones) out there might just be ready to fully accept us as we engage in our own journeys of radical self-acceptance.
Sex Diaries may not be everything you’d hope for in a series — it’s certainly not the Carrie Bradshaw fever dream of high pumps and higher standards — but, if it does anything particularly well, it is honest. To the extent that a shot, edited, commercial product can, with all its limitations from advertisers and other shareholders, in true-to-form HBO fashion, “Diaries” shares a certain intimacy with its viewers. Inviting us into the lives of these strangers, somewhat anonymized by the first-name-only introductions, and letting us be the judge. In fact: to question our relationship to our own day-to-day, to see what risks we as test subjects might be willing to take in a world of so much anxiety, fear and hyper-connectivity.