The provocative title could be taken two ways, as either a manual or a philosophical contemplation, but the purport of Molly Manning Walker’s script suggests neither. Despite the manic energy displayed by the three British teens as they arrive at a cheap resort in Crete for a holiday that promises 24/7 partying, the cinematic mood is ominous, forcing the viewer to wonder: Do I have automatic prejudices against this situation, or is Manning Walker manipulating my feelings? As the women giggle and start pumping as much alcohol into their systems as they can get their hands on, the prejudices seem well-founded, and then, once they check into their room and announce that whoever gets laid gets the master bedroom, you sort of know where the movie is headed.

And you wouldn’t be wrong, but you’d be right in ways you won’t expect. The dynamic among the three BFFs is seasoned by their carefully wrought personalities, which are informed as much by their appearance as they are by their respective temperaments. Tara (Mia McKenna-Bruce), the nominal protagonist of the film, is small and bubbly, “cute” in a classic way and, most significantly, an admitted virgin who means to get past that presumed humiliation while on this vacation. Skye (Lara Peake) acts all experienced and everything, but it’s mostly a function of assertiveness. Em (Enva Lewis) seems the most level-headed by standards that parents would appreciate, and while she can’t hold her liquor very well she tests her limits often enough to make you believe her relative temperance isn’t worth a whole lot in a clinch. In essence, while the three pledge to have one another’s backs, they aren’t much good at looking out for themselves. They start hanging out with the trio next door: a guy called Badger with dyed highlights (Shaun Thomas) who isn’t as dumb or feral as his first impression might suggest; Paddy (Samuel Bottomley), a more subtle joker who turns out to be plenty feral; and their female pal, Paige (Laura Ambler), whom Manning Walker mostly ignores because, being a lesbian, she doesn’t pose a danger to anyone. 

Though there isn’t much of a story, there is a continuum of reckoning on Tara’s part. It’s not enough to say that her sexual awakening is a disappointment—it almost always is in the movies—but Manning Walker’s cautionary impulses vivify her rapid descent into disillusionment. Even before she’s taken advantage of, she burns out on the constant interaction with strangers that this kind of party atmosphere demands. The public drinking and debauchery is depicted in documentary detail—when the kids are hungover their nausea is contagious. Manning Walker, who got her start as a cinematographer, knows what it takes to isolate emotional states on a crowded screen. Her movie taught me nothing about how to have sex, but quite a bit about how difficult it is to feed your appetites without losing your soul. 

Opens July 19 in Tokyo at Human Trust Cinema Shibuya (03-5468-5551), Cinemart Shinjuku (03-5369-2831). 

How to Have Sex home page in Japanese

photo (c) Balloonheaven, Channel Four Television Corporation, The British Film Institute 2023