Nearly 40 years after its release, Sex, Lies, and Videotape will play at Varsity Cinema in Des Moines as part of the theater’s “Declarations of Independence series: Celebrating America’s 250th Anniversary with early films from independent filmmakers.”
The film follows a sexless married couple, Ann (Andie MacDowell) and John (Peter Gallagher) — or at least, Ann views them as such. Ann’s sister Cynthia (Laura San Giacomo) is her foil in every way, except for the one thing they share: John. But when John’s enigmatic college roommate, Graham (James Spader), ambles into town with only a car key and a video camera, secrets spill out into the foreground. In 100 minutes, first-time filmmaker Steven Soderbergh explores both the mundane dissonance and sensual potential between eroticism and language.
The debut from 26-year-old Soderbergh is frequently invoked in conversations regarding independent cinema. It won the Audience Award at the Sundance Film Festival, a mutually beneficial reward that gave the film and festival major visibility and praise. Sex, Lies, and Videotape went on to premiere internationally at the Cannes Film Festival, where it took home the top prize, the Palme d’Or. Notably, it beat out Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing — a decision that sparked serious discourse at the time. (In my opinion, they’re both great, but it’s fascinating how one is charmingly dated while the other remains eerily timeless.)
A year after the film’s release, Soderbergh published the screenplay alongside an account of making of the film. Diary entries from before, during and after production shed light on the realities of low-budget cinema in ways that were once illuminating. On Jan. 4, 1988, Soderbergh clearly noted, “I just don’t think this script is going to get made in any sort of Hollywood fashion.” Soderbergh’s record gorgeously reveals his process and obstacles while paying respect to the small but mighty crew that helped make this dream come true.
Not your typical white-hot, heavy-handed onscreen romance, a subtle spark emerges between Ann and Graham as they giggle into each other over lunch. What the pair does best is not sexual, but quizzical, asking each other vulnerable questions to form a dynamic that inevitably leads them to the video camera — an emblem of alleged intimacy, but one that can’t replicate true connection and eventually, affection.
Having gotten his filmmaking start in editing, Soderbergh’s unobtrusive but rhythmic sensibilities elevate a movie that auditioning actors dismissed as just a play shot on film. Sex, Lies, and Videotape is the kind of sophisticated, slow-burn, conversation-heavy cinema that was considered not overwhelmingly sellable.
The unfortunate truth? Though it sparked a wave of indie cinema, the tide has once again turned.
In March, Indiewire re-published an article from producer Ted Hope, in which he details how the structure of filmmaking and distribution has been fundamentally altered by media consolidation.
“For decades companies like Miramax, Fine Line, October Films, Newmarket, ThinkFilm, and others created a competitive marketplace for independent cinema,” writes Hope. “As media companies consolidated and streaming replaced physical media revenue, most of these distributors disappeared or were absorbed into larger conglomerates. The result is far fewer buyers and far fewer paths for films to reach audiences.”
But it’s not just independent companies disappearing; the major studios are being swallowed by one another, too. Thankfully, federal judge Martínez-Olguín paused the Paramount and Warner Bros. merger, a consolidation that would seriously alter the movie landscape, as “the new company would account for over a quarter of major film releases,” according to the BBC. Still, it’s a temporary solution.
The fact of the matter is, regardless of the work by studios like Mubi, A24 and Janus Films, the infrastructure to keep these independent companies, and those who would benefit from working with them, afloat hardly exists in the way that made it possible for Sex, Lies, and Videotape to change the game the way it did.
Most recently, we saw the release of another film which meshed repressed desire and VHS: Jane Schoenbrun’s Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma. Despite the success of Schoenbrun’s previous film, I Saw the TV Glow, Mubi was the lone supporter of their follow-up queer slasher. And after the film wrapped, it was reported that Mubi had accepted funding from Sequoia Capital, a company that also invests in “defense-tech startup Kela — which was founded by four veterans of Israeli intelligence units in response to the terror attacks of Oct. 7,” Variety reports.
The industry is on the verge, and one final exchange from Sex, Lies, and Videotape comes to mind. John says, “Things are getting too complicated.”
Cynthia replies, “No… they’re gettin’ real simple.”
