Les Voyeurs

Les Voyeurs
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The Voyeurs review – Amazon’s fun and sexy erotic thriller throwback
Sydney Sweeney and Justice Smith in The Voyeurs, a film that has come not a moment too soon. Photograph: Bertrand Calmeau/Amazon
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The White Lotus breakout Sydney Sweeney stars in a Rear Window homage that provides a certain kind of lurid, twisty entertainment that’s been missing for so long
R emember sex at the movies? It wasn’t all that long ago – the 90s, maybe even the early aughts – that studios believed in the narrative utility and simple entertainment value of watching professionally good-looking people engaged in acts of intimacy. Decades of chastened blockbuster heroes, their ascent at the expense of the mid-budget character pieces for grownups that have all but gone extinct, have estranged the public from the combination of maturity and libidinous fun that once made the erotic thriller a dominant industry force in Hollywood. We’re starved for touch, though perhaps it would be more accurate to say we’re thirsty. A dry, flavorless cinema has left viewers with a taste for the lurid parched.
Michael Mohan’s new film The Voyeurs has come not a moment too soon, just in time to quench us with a sorely needed throwback to the heyday of skin and secrecy. Wielding a nasty cunning and just the right amount of irony, he sets up a playful take on Rear Window for the age of nude leaks that lays bare the roiling carnal subtext of Hitchcock’s masterpiece. At last, a homage that dares to ask, what if Grace Kelly had been able to give the wheelchair-bound Jimmy Stewart a hand job the first time they both looked in on his neighbors across the way?
A franker articulation of the titillatingly unethical desires that crop up while peeping doesn’t mean compromising on subtlety, however. Mohan applies meaningful nuance to the sequences that might seem like they just want to get our blood pumping, aware that people reveal their truest selves in details like the positions they choose, their body language, what pushes them over the brink of orgasm. Here, sex is not a writer’s device but a real thing shared between characters that behave like real people. Better still, he’s not timid about pleasure for its own sake. He wants us to watch, at our own peril.
Doesn’t hurt that the flirty foundation gets laid by the well-matched pairing of the sensitive, handsome Justice Smith as Thomas and the enigmatic, almost unrealistically attractive Sydney Sweeney as Pippa. Her Jayne Mansfield-esque build is very much part of the point in a film obsessed with the politics of ogling, though the detachment she previously displayed in The White Lotus keeps the audience at an arm’s length even if they can’t look away. She exudes an absorbing yet forbidding presence in her character’s private moments, but a couple of shaky monologues and some faltering in pivotal moments suggest she has plenty of room to grow as an actor. What’s important is she shares a relaxed chemistry with Smith befitting a young couple that’s just hit the point of cohabitation in a vast downtown Montreal loft. Their goofy rapport makes their relationship seem plausible, as do their uncommon jobs – he composes background music for infomercials, she’s an optometrist. Grounding flourishes like this, as well as their duly dumbfounded reacting to the lunacy awaiting them, will come in handy once the twist-heavy plot starts to skirt camp.
Though he’s gotten his wild years over and done with, she’s just coming out of med school and wants to live a little, so she embraces her kinky side when they notice the couple (Ben Hardy and Natasha Liu Bordizzo) one building over going at it. From there, it’s off to the races as a bit of harmless friskiness crosses a series of lines into jerry-rigged wiretapping and surveillance. There’s never a dull moment in these two full hours, which blaze through affairs, hookups, sexy Hamburglar costumes, explanations of laser physics, some deaths and the occasional flash of true emotion with a winning savviness. Every time a viewer might think they know where it’s all going, the nimble script hops one step ahead. More impressively, the tone has been calibrated to perfection, flirting with the absurd while stopping just short of overt goofiness. For all its un-shyness about bodies, the film has a way with wily suggestion; smash cuts liken mutilated eyeballs to split-open soft-boiled eggs, and sensuous closeups can turn a routine optometry exam into a mechanical form of coitus.
Recent years have yielded enough tame, weak-sauce renditions of this premise for no benefit of the doubt to be given, and the bland trailer cooked up by Amazon doesn’t do this one any favors, either. But this is the real deal, an ideal cocktail of funny, diabolical and perverted. There’s a high level of competence at play that similar movies just can’t muster, to the point that even the Chekhov’s guns are laid and delivered upon with tact and surprise. Mohan handles his audience with care, diligence, attentiveness, creativity, smoldering passion – the mind positively swims with sexual metaphors. That’s the headspace in which this film leaves us: a well-made gutter we haven’t had the chance to visit for far too long.
The Voyeurs is available on Amazon Prime on 10 September

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Kaepernick & America

Brandon Towns

Michael Mohan ’s “The Voyeurs” is fairly good at being trashy. It’s not confident, so much as mighty hip to how Amazon viewers won’t shut off its tap of indulgent horniness mid-stream, and ipso facto the movie feels primarily engineered for provocative rushes—the kind that come from characters doing something outrageous, the kind that come from watching hot people have what Roger famously called “rumpy-pumpy,” the kind that make you roll your eyes heavily, but keep watching. Even with its gaps of intrigue and overly superficial touches, its storytelling just wants a reaction, constantly. It often gets one. “The Voyeurs” is not a passive experience.
Mohan’s story kicks off with a forbidden fruit of living in a city—getting a window into other people’s sex lives. Pippa ( Sydney Sweeney ) and Thomas ( Justice Smith ) have just moved into a large flat in Montreal, and directly across from them is some type of gorgeous artsy couple. Soon into their move, they see the couple have some real software action, causing Pippa and Thomas to guffaw, and then watch. On another night, it happens again, and in a scene that marks a peak for the sexual excitement, the two voyeurs add some virtual reality to the mix.
The couple next door having sex are Seb ( Ben Hardy ) and Julia ( Natasha Liu Bordizzo ), a former model who left behind that life. Hardy is sincerely cheesy in the role that has him being an overly sexual photographer; whose photoshoots with other women cause nosey neighbors Pippa and Thomas to think they’re witnessing cheating. (The question of a possible open relationship is raised by our nosy neighbors, and then blatantly shut down.) Suddenly they realize they’re not witnessing a hot sex life but a lie that comes with a gaslighting, abusive partner. Pippa’s closeness to this story across the way compels her to say something, and that proves to be a big mistake.
“The Voyeurs” offers a formidable roster of feelings, starting with how Sweeney depicts the curiosity, the seduction of looking, of wanting to live inside the projection put upon someone whose sex life is enhanced with a binocular's aim. The script also gives her ample time to be funny and playful, opposite Justice Smith’s more low-key, less amused boyfriend who enters into the movie wanting to get an accordion. Their chemistry is sexy when needed, but also a little goofy, like when they try to obtain a crafty audio connection at the neighboring apartment via the incognito of a costume party. It’s more when things between the two fall apart that “The Voyeurs” struggles to create a potent, emotional core. We care more about the two as actors, finding their way through this story, than we do as characters whose initial fixation starts to eat away at their own chemistry.
Mohan’s film goes to some bizarre emotional depths, and channels in coincidences (Pippa’s job happens to involve eyesight, of all things). It tries to have fun with how the characters are in some type of ridiculous illusion that only we are aware of. Notice the poster for Michelangelo Antonioni's “ Blow-Up ,” a similar far more well-rounded movie about witnessing life from afar, through lenses. Or listen to nudge-nudge-nudge simple exchanges like this: “I didn’t think you’d come.” “I came.” That scene happens at an art gallery. Even the abrupt cuts are so on the nose it's kind of a comfort, like every time an eyeball is matched with a sliced egg drooling yolk. The movie has a sense of humor about itself, whether or not it seems fully in control of the story that it’s trying to pull over its viewers. Some passages are not accidentally dull here, they’re just dull.
No spoilers here about the juiciest parts of “The Voyeurs” but they come in the second and third act, when it stares back at you. And this is when the story gets the most about its playful pokes at privacy, of Sydney Sweeney’s agency as an actress who has been engaging how we perceive her since playing a sexualized high schooler in “ Euphoria .” The movie begins with the camera trying to get a glimpse of her in a dressing room, only to feel like we’ve been caught when she suddenly makes eye contact; it then becomes a clearly laid out meta commentary on her own career, one that asserts agency as Sweeney becomes even more powerful with projects such as these. (That aspect is more discernible than the movie’s tangled message about sex and privacy.) So much of “The Voyeurs” is about power, and who is in control of the narrative. It becomes evident that at least Sweeney is.
Especially in its third act, as "The Voyeurs" lumbers toward the end of its two hours, the movie engages in some stunt storytelling, some twists for the sake of twists. But they’re big, and Mohan makes them just believable enough in this world that becomes more perverse with each new perspective. "The Voyeurs" craves to be the most salacious, outrageous non-pornographic movie you stream this weekend, and that itself is enticing. But it's a noteworthy bonus that while giving you some gratuitous page-turning thrills, Mohan also pushes extremes of art, sex, and death, and dares to go more than skin-deep.
Nick Allen is the Senior Editor at RogerEbert.com and a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association.

Rated R
for strong sexual content, nudity including brief graphic nudity, language and some disturbing images.

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Watch the official trailer for The Voyeurs! Streaming on Amazon Prime Video September 10, 2021.

A couple become more and more obsessed with the love life of their neighbors, leading to deadly consequences.

© Amazon Prime Video

22,526 views Aug 27, 2021 Watch the official trailer for The Voyeurs! Streaming on Amazon Prime Video September 10, 2021.

A couple become more and more obsessed with the love life of their neighbors, leading to deadly consequences.

© Amazon Prime Video … ...more

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