Directed by: Sook-Yin Lee
Cast: Dan Beirne, Emily Lê, Andrea Werhun
Upon viewing Paying For It, I couldn’t help but be reminded by a clip from the controversial philosopher Slavoj Žižek. In a video about Synthetic Sex, Žižek describes his “ideal sexual situation.” In this scenario, he meets a woman that he finds attractive, and likewise she finds him attractive, and they agree to meet at one of their apartments. He brings a “stimulating training unit,” in other words a synthetic vagina, and she brings a dildo. The two then let the machines engage in sexual intercourse and as he puts it “paying our superego full tribute” and the couple are now free to engage in conversation, have tea, discuss their favourite movie in Richard Linklater’s Before series, and so on. And in the instance that as he is pouring tea their hands touch and it leads to them ending up in bed together, it is not the “oppressive sex” where you worry about performance because the machines in the other room have already taken care of that. Now if this all sounds outrageous and another case of philosophers running wild with their thoughts, you would be correct. But just like Žižek, Sook-Yin Lee’s Paying For It explores the ideal relationship in a bizarre, taboo way. A relationship in which a person constantly pays prostitutes for sex so that they can fill the gap of sexual intimacy in their life.
Based on the 2011 graphic novel of the same name by Chester Brown, and based on the real life relationship between the director, Sook-Yin Lee and Chester Brown, Paying For It explores the intricacies of modern relationships, the ethics of prostitution, polyamory, and the dating scene in Toronto. The film opens with Sonny Lee (Emily Lê) admitting to her longtime boyfriend Chester (Dan Beirne) that she loves someone else, but instead of wanting to break up, she wants to begin an open relationship as she still loves her boyfriend. Now for an introverted, uncharismatic Chester, this means he now has to listen to Sonny have aggressive, floor pounding sex with her much more attractive new boyfriend while he is stuck drawing cartoons in the basement. Chester is free to pursue other women as well but doesn’t have the sexual selection traits to accomplish so. He does however make a decent living with his successful graphic novel series. Chester then begins dialing escort ads in the yellow pages and asking for certain traits that would fulfil his desires. In his point of view, paying prostitutes for sex cost nearly the same amount as going out on dates with Sonny (and those dates weren’t guaranteed to end in intercourse). While Sonny goes through various men and breakups, Chester is able to find fulfilment with multiple sex workers.
While on the surface this movie is a quirky Toronto movie with scenes taking place at many iconic landmarks (I found it cool when they shot at the upstairs venue at Sneaky Dee’s as I’ve had friends perform there in the past), weeks after viewing I am still left pondering the ethical questions and dilemmas the film offers. Should prostitution be decriminalized in Canada? Is polyamory ever functional in a relationship? Is love possible to find in Toronto? There are many such questions being asked. With the advent of pornographic online sites, and now paid subscription sites like OnlyFans where you can personally message your favourite content creator and form a parasocial bond with them, I can’t help but feel like an old man yelling at clouds seeing the ways intimacy has become commodified and suited for everyone’s personal need. Once again I circle back to Žižek and how he has said that “sex without love is masturbation” and that you can’t fall in love with the perfect person, there has to be endearing foibles that make you say “in spite of that imperfection, I love him (or her).” Sonny and Chester are both great as friends and support each other during loss and hardship, it all boils down to a problem with sex. Sonny can’t seem to find the perfect guy to fulfil her needs and Chester can’t find a woman (without paying for one) that can fulfil his sexual needs. There is a lot to unpack with these two.
Chester believes that love and relationships require ownership over someone. In his view, paying for sexual intimacy and relying on the gratification of platonic love from his friends is enough to get by in life and negates the need to have possession over someone to experience love. It is a rather pessimistic view of love that I don’t agree with, but then again if it works for him and he finds fulfilment from it, who am I to judge? Another core element of this film is how it portrays sex work. Lee gives the sex workers in this movie humanity and dignity that is hard to find in cinema. The women are students, independent, are victims of police violence, have separate jobs, and above all, are human. It strikes a balance between showing the profession as a normal job where some women can work by themselves or with friends, but also that there are complications that can arise like when the police forcefully evict one of Chester’s sex workers due to prostitution. However, the movie also makes it seem like human trafficking is not a problem in the industry, but then again, pro-sex work movies are hard to find. Should women be allowed to use their body to make a living, or is the profession something that is a side effect of capitalism, austerity politics, and low wages, is something that will be debated for many years to come.
Now as for the movie itself, I’m a huge fan of Dan Beirne especially after his work in The Twentieth Century where he plays another Canadian figure, William Lyon MacKenzie King, who has his own unique sexual desires. In this movie he plays the role of an awkward, introverted, insecure man perfectly. And with Emily Lê, she plays the role of the cool, MuchMusic VJ, who is struggling off camera with relationships and life in a way that, while I don’t agree with many of her character’s choices, I still find myself rooting for her. With Toronto movies, in comparison to their Quebecois contemporaries, I feel like we tend to grapple on to any landmark possible to further show its a “Toronto movie.” With TIFF 2022’s Brother I remember how a weird voice over dialogue where they had to acknowledge that they’re going to Rouge National Urban Park instead of just going there naturally. It’s almost like the success of Scott Pilgrim vs. The World has cucked Toronto filmmakers into needing to include exterior shots of a famous building or sign like its an MCU cameo. That’s why movies like The F Word hold a special place in my heart because it felt like it showcased the beauty of Toronto organically. Not often does Toronto get to play itself on the big screen so why can’t we just let it hang out in the background. Anyway, the moral of the story is, if your girlfriend asks for an open relationship, just break up.
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