Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Ben Hozie
Starring: Julia Fox, Peter Vack, Buddy Duress, Nikki Belfiglio, Austin Brown
The internet has changed sex work in a positive way, replacing the dangers
of the streets with the comfort of the bedroom, living room, bathroom or
wherever else a "cam girl" chooses to broadcast her shows from. You wouldn't
know this from movies however, as thus far the cam girl trade has been
portrayed in sensationalist fashion in various low rent thrillers that see
cam girls preyed upon by their clients, who are invariably portrayed as
dangerous creeps at worst, suckers at best. The truth is that cam girls are
some of the least exploited workers you could find. They get to choose their
own hours, set their own rates, don't have to deal with any superiors and
can get rid of an annoying customer at the press of a button. Sure beats
breaking your back in an Amazon delivery centre.
The marketing for director Ben Hozie's PVT Chat would
have you believe his film is yet another thriller about the dangers of the
internet, but it's being wildly mis-sold. While it does feature an element
of criminal behaviour, PVT Chat is actually a surprisingly
sweet and rather romantic comedy in the vein of '80s movies like
Electric Dreams and Mannequin, with a heavy dash of the cringe comedy of Albert Brooks thrown in for
good measure.
Jack (Peter Vack) is a directionless twentysomething New Yorker who
barely ekes out a living playing Blackjack online. Most of his winnings are
squandered on a cam girl site, where he encounters the alluring San
Francisco based Scarlet (Julia Fox, a case of nominative determinism
if ever I've seen one). Unlike the other cam girls, who yawn their way
through their sessions with Jack, Scarlet seems to take a genuine interest
in his Walter Mitty-esque ramblings about developing an app that will allow
users to read each other's thoughts.
While out shopping in Chinatown one night, Jack is shocked to see Scarlet
in the aisles. When he asks her about this later online, she denies it,
swearing she lives on the West Coast. But when Jack's friend (Buddy Duress, another case of nominative determinism) spots Scarlet entering her home,
Jack is determined to meet the object of his online fantasy in the
flesh.
Filmed in a cinema verite style that borders on the amateurish,
PVT Chat presents its world in the most unglamourised manner
possible. Jack and Scarlet are two Millennials attempting to make a living
through means that would have been unthinkable a generation earlier, and
Hozie presents them without judgement. Of course, the viewer will have their
own preconceptions about how Jack and Scarlet have chosen to live. I have to
admit, upon meeting Jack, I took an instant dislike to him with his constant
stream of bullshit and manic countenance, but by the end of the movie,
thanks largely to Scarlet peeling away his facade to reveal a lonely little
boy, I had grown to like the nebbish. Equally humanised is Scarlet, who behind the
leather and whips is just another young person who like Jack, is simply
trying to stay afloat. There's a scene of mutual masturbation that is as
romantic a moment as you'll witness in American cinema, as Scarlet drops the
act and genuinely pleasures herself in Jack's (online) company.
The real skill of the film is that it both opens and closes with the image
of Jack on his knees masturbating frantically while Scarlet verbally abuses
him, yet while we initially view Jack as something of a pathetic figure, by
the film's end we've accepted his kinks and the unconventional path he's
chosen. They say you shouldn't judge someone until you've walked a mile in
their shoes. PVT Chat suggests you should spend 90 minutes in
someone else's cum-crusted tighty-whities before casting aspersions. The
worst thing about the internet is that it's turned so many of us into
self-righteous scolds, so it's nice to see an online focussed film adopt
such a refreshingly open-minded view of two people many of us might look
down upon from our moral perches.
