PRETTY THING REVIEW: Reversing the Genders Not Enough to Re-Ignite the Erotic Thriller [2.5/5]
Close, but No Cigarette (After Sex)
[Rating 2.5/5] - dir. Justin Kelly - 2025 - United States - R - 1h 36m - Erotic Thriller
“For a moment I… wondered if I was being sex-trafficked, but… once I got into that little pod on the plane, I didn’t really care.”
“How do you know you’re not being sex-trafficked?”
This is about right. Young-ish, but old enough to be desperate; handsome, but listless. Restaurant worker Elliot (Karl Glusman) feels safe and secure enough in what he is (a strong, intimidating man), even if he’s not comfortable yet with who he is. This means even in the face of — on paper — a risky situation, he doesn’t feel too far gone.
For Sophie (Alicia Silverstone), a rich, attractive older woman seeking the thrills of sharing her bed with someone many years her junior, it’s about power as much as anything else.
Sure, what goes on in bed is fun, but the real thrill for Sophie comes in the form of delivering little foreboding warnings.
The ‘90s gave us films populated by publicly buttoned up but privately skeevy male millionaires who enjoyed developing the obsessive adoration of a beautiful but seemingly ill-fated lover until it turned ugly, and served as a kind of parable.
The 2020s have given us… Anora.
So there’s the context for a 2025 Erotic Thriller.
The good? The casting choices here are marvelous.
Actor Karl Glusman is no stranger to sex and thrillers (Love, Nocturnal Animals, Neon Demon), but he’s been this vulnerable. He’s all muscle. He’s all brood. Then he’s at him, with his mommy, who he is wont to strip on the spot for, in order for her to get his clothing into the wash — ASAP.
It’s disturbing, with its normalized energy.
I have no idea if generational icon Alicia Silverstone was Kelly’s first choice, third choice, only choice — who knows. But I do know that going the Tarantino-esque route of plucking a beloved actor from a prior decade and thrusting them into a career-revitalizing role was a smart choice.
Finally, Silverstone steps out from under the towering shadow of her character in Clueless, Cher, and into the light, ready to be seen again.
Chemistry-wise, these two are at a high. They are believable as lovers, but as a put-upon, somewhat pathetic son? As a ball-breaking high-end pharmaceutical marketing business partner? They are unconvincing a little too often.
Some of it is down to cliche dialogue (“How was your day?” “Mm… These clients were tough, but I think I won them over.”), which sounds like a child’s version of an adult job. Some of it is down to how they carry themselves.
Pretty Thing has trouble deciding if it wants to embrace its genre traditions or buck them.
Sure, this time around the prize is a young man, hot and svelte like a European Pete Davidson, rather than a young female bombshell, and there are some intruiging incestuous undertones between him and his mother, but that’s where the investigative process ends: A hint of something more. What kind of mother-son familial relationship produces the kind of young man capable of twisting an obsession for an older woman into violence? Why does he undress exactly the same way in front of his mother and his lover? Why is his mother so overt, so melodramatic in her shows of emotion, and why does she so automatically mirror her son’s?
In one unsettling scene, Elliot returns home after witnessing Sophie with another man. He collapses, crying, right on the front foyer. His mother comes out and starts crying with exactly the same intensity, like the sadness is contagious.
It’s one thing to not be able to see the meat left on the bone, and think what you got is everything available. Here, we get hints of what could have been, and feel all the more disappointed because of it — a little like Elliot, perhaps.
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P.S. The score is absolutely fantastic. Possibly the most consistently pleasing part of Pretty Thing.
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Pretty Thing is out now.
[Rating 2.5/5] - dir. Justin Kelly - 2025 - United States - R - 1h 36m - Erotic Thriller