I Am a Sex Addict

AFS@Dobie You might remember Caveh Zahedi from his segment in Richard Linklater’s Waking Life, in which he delightfully discourses on film theory. If you do not, rest assured this filmmaker will be unforgettable after seeing his latest work, I Am a Sex Addict. This fourth feature from the provocative indie filmmaker is his most confessional, most personal, and if you leave the theatre with that awkward too-much-information feeling after peering into his self-exposed psyche and finding some definite turnoffs, you will also remember Zahedi’s breathtaking high-wire act that combines fact and fiction, drama and self-deprecating humor, honesty and self-delusion, home movies and animation (by Waking Life’s Bob Sabiston), and messy self-exposure and tidy cover-ups. Technically, I Am a Sex Addict is a stellar achievement, as it coaxes viewers to accompany Zahedi down avenues of sexual desire that have had little frank exposure on film. This is not to imply that the film is full of exposed little franks – Zahedi’s or others. It is not a blue film, although it’s packed with lots of heterosexual sex and blow jobs enacted for the camera. But here, especially, Zahedi’s humor and distancing tactics help dispel any prurient impulses. Zahedi stars in and narrates his film directly to the audience from an alcove in the chapel where the ceremony for his third marriage is about to take place. He relates the history of his sex addiction and uses re-enactments to depict the ways in which his addiction to prostitutes ruined the three most important relationships he’s had with women prior to his impending nuptials. It may be nitpicking here, but it’s not always his promiscuity that gets him into trouble with the women in his life – more often it’s his honest sharing of his experiences that sours his relationships. Prizing honesty for its own sake, Zahedi is often callous to the injurious effects total honesty can inflict on a loved one. And let’s not get started on double standards either. Zahedi is unable to accept promiscuity from his significant others, although he expects them to accept nothing less from him. To be more specific, Zahedi’s addiction is not really to sex, but rather sex with prostitutes. And although he states at the beginning of the film that he is a feminist, it would behoove the filmmaker to take a closer look at how his perceived need for prostitutes helps perpetuate the inequality of the sexes. Rule No. 1 in the feminist playbook is that the personal is always political. The film touches on issues of guilt and shame, and Zahedi tries to resist temptation with an ardor that resembles a Kübler-Ross acolyte bargaining with death. Ultimately, Zahedi’s unstated viewpoint is that he’s a the helpless victim of these irresistible women. His guilt has only to do with his sexual voracity, not his desire for women to be submissive, slutty, and shameless. The movie opens with a quote from St. Augustine, “Lord, grant me chastity ... but not yet.” This implies a not-altogether-sincere desire on Zahedi’s part to be rid of his demons – or maybe it’s just the filmmaker’s belief in suffering for his art. – With fond memories of D. Montgomery (See related interview at austinchronicle.com/issues/dispatch/2006-06-23/screens_feature2.html. Zahedi will also be present at the 7:30pm screenings on Friday and Saturday.)