Fucktoys
The protagonist, AP, is a sex worker convinced she is cursed: to free herself, she must pay $1,000 and sacrifice a lamb. This premise alone says a lot: the curse is not only supernatural, it is economic. The act of sacrifice (a lamb) recalls ancient rituals, but the monetary payment makes it a worldly, material matter—a contract with the occult world. This interplay — mystical plus commercial — is central to the film’s dramaturgy.
On her scooter journey, AP crosses Trashtown and meets grotesque characters: fortune tellers, bizarre clients, and figures of degraded power. The world is constantly “in transaction”: sex, exchanges, power dynamics. The desire to free herself from the curse becomes a metaphor for another kind of liberation — not only spiritual, but economic, social, and sexual.
On her scooter journey, AP crosses Trashtown and meets grotesque characters: fortune tellers, bizarre clients, and figures of degraded power. The world is constantly “in transaction”: sex, exchanges, power dynamics. The desire to free herself from the curse becomes a metaphor for another kind of liberation — not only spiritual, but economic, social, and sexual.
The body is a situation, a place of freedom and oppression.
(S. De Beauvoir)
(S. De Beauvoir)
Fucktoys by Annapurna Sriram is a work that doesn’t hide: it is an independent film, boldly “trash,” deliberately anarchic, a visually explosive journey into a world where everything is decay and fetishism, but also a declaration of freedom. Set in the dystopian “Trashtown, USA,” the film mixes sex, magic, sacrifices, and power dynamics in a neon-drenched, dreamlike universe that seems like a visual collage of punk and camp cinema.
Shot on 16mm film—a choice that gives it a retro charm and a grainy texture—it amplifies the decadent yet nostalgic atmosphere. The film is tinted with pastel and neon colors, with a production design that evokes a dilapidated yet vibrant world, at once familiar and alienating.
The visual punk energy is fueled by a frenetic soundtrack that seems to lead the viewer through Trashtown’s wild night without pause. Sriram’s directorial debut moves confidently, demonstrating a very precise vision of the universe she wants to tell.
Thematically, Fucktoys is not just a visual party: it hides a reflection on capitalism, patriarchal culture, marginality, sex work, and power dynamics. Beneath the “dirty” and transgressive surface, the film attempts to speak about class, inequality, and how human relationships are commodified.
Moreover, sexuality is explored candidly but with respect for consent: scenes involving kink or BDSM violence are not reduced to mere aesthetic shock but are placed in a narrative context that raises questions, although the risk remains that everything might turn into “perversion for its own sake.”
The question that arises is: is visual + sexual + trash delirium enough to make cinema worthy of a festival competition? The answer is ambivalent.
On one hand, Fucktoys clearly has a strong and original identity: it is not a conventional film, and precisely for this reason it won the jury prize at SXSW. Its energy is not superficial but supported by an idea — that of Trashtown as a space of marginality and liberation — and by a will to break norms: cinematic, moral, social.
On the other hand, however, the “extravagance” risks becoming a fleeting gimmick. If the narrative remains fragmented, if many scenes seem constructed only to shock or amaze, one could argue that transgression is not serving a message but is an end in itself. The lamb sacrifice, the curse, the thousand dollars: these are strong images, but how much do they truly accompany us beyond the visual surface?
Furthermore, the fact that sex is so central — and often explicit — might polarize the viewer: for some, it is liberating; for others, it risks seeming mere provocative aesthetics.
Fucktoys remains a trash-punk manifesto, a love letter to the margins, to nonconforming bodies, to shock and to inexplicable redemption. Annapurna Sriram, in her debut, shows courage, visual provocation, and aesthetic madness.
But it is also a film that raises a legitimate question: can excess be an artistic justification? Can sexual delirium, fetishism, and at times redundant and tedious anti-intellectualism, if expressed forcefully, be enough to make a film “worthy” of a competition?
A cinema that challenges the viewer to decide whether to accept its chaos as a form of art or reject it as mere trash exhibition.
Art is about opening yourself up to the world, even if it means exposing your scars.
(Patti Smith)
(Patti Smith)
This movie was in the official competition of Torino Film Festival 2025