As a 3x BAFTA nominee (including Outstanding British Film) and the winner of the Un Certain Regard prize at Cannes, How to Have Sex has solidified itself as one of the most important dramas of the decade. While it originally premiered in late 2023, its arrival on major streaming platforms like Netflix in early 2025 brought it to a massive new global audience.<\/p>\n
How To Have Sex<\/strong> follows three British teenagers\u2014Tara, Skye, and Em\u2014who jet off to the party resort of Malia on the Greek island of Crete for a rite-of-passage holiday following their GCSE exams. For Tara, the trip carries an extra weight of expectation: as the only virgin in the group, she feels an immense, unspoken pressure to “keep up” with her more experienced friends. The holiday begins as a neon-soaked blur of bottomless cocktails, ear-splitting club music, and the desperate, high-energy pursuit of the “Best. Holiday. Ever.”<\/p>\n As the girls settle into their cheap hotel, they befriend a group of older boys staying next door, including the sensitive but reckless Badger and his smoother, more predatory friend Paddy. The social dynamics quickly shift into a competitive “hook-up” culture, fueled by the aggressive “lad” atmosphere of the resort. Skye, acting as a chaotic ringleader, repeatedly pushes Tara toward Paddy, viewing sex as a trophy to be won rather than a personal choice. Tara, wanting to fit in and find the validation she craves, finds herself performing a version of adulthood she isn’t quite ready for.<\/p>\n The story takes a sobering turn during a night on the beach. What starts as a consensual encounter with Paddy quickly devolves into a harrowing “gray area” of coercion and blurred boundaries. Director Molly Manning Walker masterfully captures Tara\u2019s internal dissociation; while the party rages on around her, Tara begins to feel increasingly alienated and hollow. The film moves away from typical coming-of-age tropes to explore the terrifying reality of sexual assault that occurs when silence and peer pressure override a person’s agency.<\/p>\n In the final act, the “perfect holiday” facade completely crumbles. A second, more explicit violation by Paddy leaves Tara in a state of quiet trauma that her friends are too self-absorbed to fully recognize. The film concludes not with a dramatic confrontation, but with a deeply moving and realistic portrayal of a young woman trying to reclaim herself. As the girls board their flight home, the contrast between the loud, giggling group that arrived and the silent, changed Tara creates a powerful indictment of a culture that prioritizes the “experience” of sex over the safety of consent.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"