Tiego Tiexeira’s debut feature Custom has a gloriously simple premise: Harriet and Jasper have a pretty good gig going. They’ve been quite successful at producing custom erotic films for paying clients, both financially and critically amongst the community. When a mysterious new client offers them a commission that can only be described as obscene to create what feels less like a film and more like some kind of bizarre ritual, the couple soon find themselves in a surreal hell unable to tell when reality ends and the nightmare begins.
Tiexeira crafts a powerfully erotic vision of strange dark forces moving behind the scenes and wreaking havoc in the lives of ordinary people. Starting in a place many would already consider somewhat mysterious, the film slips into an even weirder place when Harriet and Jasper produce the film their benefactor requests. What starts off as something seemingly ordinary gradual becomes something like a mix of Clive Barker and David Cronenberg: vaguely occult with some subtle wrongness you can’t quite pin down. Think of any of the weird sex magic rituals in Barker’s fiction and the strange imagery of Dead Ringers.
Abigail Hardingham and Rowan Polonski as Harriet and Jasper respectively sizzle with chemistry. Not just the scenes where they’re producing videos, but also when they’re just going about their everyday lives. Their arguments over how something is going to be produced feel like the turmoil of a real couple, and you must wonder if what we’re seeing onscreen are their actual mannerisms in real life. Brad Moore as their mutual friend Bishop, a fellow creator of S & M videos, brings a sense of “is he or isn’t he” potential scumbaggery that will throw the viewer even more off kilter.
The depiction of sex work in this film is…refreshing. It’s presented completely amorally, with no judgment or fetishization. It is, in other words, seen as exactly as what it truly is: another form of labor, as valid as any other profession. Some might even say that Tiexeira’s vision makes it seem as boring and humdrum as any office job. In Custom, the sexual aspect is merely another flavor in the mix of the film, something to guide us towards the ultimate horror the film seeks to encapsulate. It is a means to an end and not an in and of itself. This is not a film about the perils and moral downfalls of sex work, something that is rarely seen in film and TV.
Custom is something of a slow burn, and if you’re expecting lots of blatant horrific imagery and a big visual pay off, you might be disappointed. But, if you temper your expectations and allow yourself to be immersed into the subtle story the film is telling, you’ll be quite satisfied with the end result.
