Complete silence, broken only by a muffled giggle every now and then. It is too dark to see who might be blushing, who’s grinning, who’s nodding off. But it doesn’t really matter, as our eyes are firmly locked on the screen. We are in Cinemateca Eforie in Bucharest, but our minds wander, reflecting on the simple pleasures in life: to steal a glance at the gardener’s hairy sunburnt biceps; to let a favorite taste melt on your tongue; to feel at home in your lover’s embrace. The Erotica Night selection at this year’s edition of Animest presented a different, more complex take on passion in its many forms, and invited the audience to experience a vast world of gender, sexuality, identity, and self-image. 

Through nineteen spicy animated shorts, guest programmer Jakub Spevák shared various ways in which we might be able to vanquish loneliness. A familiar longing for connection resonates through every character. Each story showed a different aspect of the struggle to belong, to love, and to be loved. Some of the films elevated the subject to a spiritual level, but most remained in the realm of the corporeal. Spevák also programs the thematic selections at Fest Anča in Slovakia, which this year revolved around the theme of “Our Bodies”. He continued this exploration in the erotic screening at Animest: the body as a temple, the body as gender expression, as a tool, as a home. For the Animest program, Spevák built an overarching narrative around yearning and acceptance, in which the characters desperately try to connect with one another, breaking the perceived boundaries imposed by their physical forms. 

These limitations sometimes come from outside, shaped by conformity to social expectations. Many of the films delved into the theme of toxic masculinity. The opening short, ‘An Explosive Love Story’ by Adina Oana Enache, tells the story of two hunters who fall for one another but cannot come to terms with their feelings, ending their love affair with a literal bang. The “manly man” archetypes can be recognized in the simple character design (thick moustaches, bulky bodies), as opposed to the comically exaggerated, homoerotic body language illustrated by the fluidity of the hunters’ shapes and movements.   

'An Explosive Love Story' by Adina Oana Enache 

In contrast, Joana Fischer and Marie Kenov’s ‘Sweet Nothing’ presents a different kind of man, one who is tender and sensitive. The film introduces a lady sunbathing in her yard and daydreaming about her neighbor’s gardener, who tends to the flowers so lovingly, as if they are women’s bodies. His kind demeanor is in polar opposition to the macho stereotype and this tenderness quickly delves into the erotic with suggestive, ambiguous angles and absurdist visual innuendos. Through that lens, Fischer and Kenov question gender norms, elevating these concepts with visual and dramaturgical stylizations and a soft, pastel pink-orange color palette.  

'Sweet Nothing' by Joana Fischer and Marie Kenov

Bulgarian director Tanya Bozhinova also uses pink to depict tenderness in her ambitious graduation film, ‘Dear You’. Bozhinova cleverly utilizes language to introduce the concept of connection, not only through physical touch, but as communication on an intellectual and even spiritual level. Letters in Cyrillic twist and transform into close-ups of a female body, then pop back into their native form again, writing out words and phrases. Based on a poem by Peter Petrov, parts of which can be heard in a gentle, deep timbre, the narration recounts the character’s emotions for his beloved. The way Petrov’s text interacts with Bozhinova’s artwork creates a powerful projection of a man’s desires through the female gaze. 

It is worth noting that a number of the films in the Erotica selection contained sharp observations on feminism and body image. Two standout examples were ‘Cottage Cheese’ by Janina Müller, Liina Luomajoki, Lena Metzger, and Alice Kunz, and Caitlin Young’s provocative social commentary, ‘Breast Friends’.  

Both films center around women and their complicated relationships with imposed beauty standards. ‘Cottage Cheese’ explores the way the body (mal)functions. Even though the film is a collective effort, it feels deeply personal, with its extensive use of subjective angles and delicate subject matter. As she’s sitting on the toilet, one woman discovers a strange stain on her underwear. This marks the start of her journey inwards, literally and figuratively, as she tries to shake off the shame coming from the stigma around female reproductive health. 

Meanwhile, Young’s interpretation is lighthearted and ironic. While Jess gets ready for a night out, her breasts gain the ability to speak, each one having a different opinion on their owner’s appearance and self-esteem. Young experiments boldly with shape and movement – the design elements of the main character stay consistent, but her breasts do not follow the laws of physics, stretching and twisting around her, sometimes growing in size and filling up the entire space of the frame. To bring out their distinct personality, the director has even given them expressive faces, arms, and a large amount of dialogue as they voice their owner’s deepest doubts. The concept of the breasts as a personification of an inner conflict is further accentuated in the voice acting, with the same actor playing both Jess and her outspoken body parts.  

Photo: Larisa Balta

It is a bit doubtful whether one could label either of these films, or quite a few of the selections in the program, strictly “erotic”. However, no matter what they’re called, sexuality and attraction cannot exist all on their own as concepts, especially in art. They are deeply connected to all aspects of life, forming dynamic relationships with others and shaping our identities. Curator Spevák’s selections around the topic of eroticism painted richer ideas around longing and belonging that reflect contemporary issues, accompanied by profound observations of how we cope with loneliness and vulnerability in the modern world. 

However, during this special screening of Erotica Night, we felt anything but lonely. In the short pause at the intermission, we all gathered outside, laughter filling the air. A large sheet of paper in a phallic shape hung on a wall, inviting anyone to create a drawing or write a message. “How do you write ‘boobs’ in your language?”. No matter how isolated we feel, we humans can always find a way to connect, naked or not. 

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contributed by: Andy Stoeva

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