I Am a Sex Addict (2005) Movie Script

Hi. My name's Caveh,
and I'm about to be married.
Um, this isn't my first time.
I've actually been married twice before.
Um, but I'm pretty sure
it's going to be the last time.
How can I know that for sure?
I can't, obviously.
My last two marriages fell apart because
I used to have this sex addiction problem,
and I don't really have that anymore.
Well, at least not in the way I used to.
You see, about ten years ago I started going
to these Sex Addicts Anonymous meetings.
Hi. My name's Caveh.
I'm a sex addict.
ALL: Hi, Caveh.
For me, it all started in Paris
about seven years ago.
Actually, I wasn't able
to raise enough money to go to Paris,
so I'm just going to shoot it here
in San Francisco,
which is where I live now.
So if you could just pretend this is Paris...
...and that I'm 23 years old.
So anyway, I was walking
down the street one day...
...when I saw this prostitute.
The first thing that struck me
was what she was wearing.
But then I noticed her
uncanny resemblance to my wife.
I thought it was strange that I should be
so turned on by this woman,
and yet no longer the least bit
attracted to my wife.
You fucking shut the fuck up!
This is Caroline, my wife.
How I ended up marrying her
instead of the person I was
really in love with is a long story.
But I should probably start by explaining
that I never would have married Caroline
if it hadn't been for the fact
that she was French...
... and that her visa was about to expire.
Actually, let me back up a second.
This is Anna.
She was my first real girlfriend
and the love of my life.
We had met in college
and had been together for two years.
Now, I should probably explain
that ever since I was a kid,
I was obsessed
with finding my soul mate.
Every time I would meet a girl
I would think,
"Is she the one?
"Is she the one?
Or is she the one?"
I was constantly falling in love
at the drop of a hat,
but the girls I was attracted to
never seemed to be attracted to me.
Things went on like this for years,
and I was starting to despair
of ever finding a soul mate.
And then I met Anna.
She had the most beautiful soul
of anyone I had ever met.
And the two years we spent together
were the happiest of my life.
It seemed that nothing
could ever come between us
and that we would always be together.
The only problem was
that I was a philosophy major
and believed in free love.
To me, monogamy was a form
of private property,
and I was against private property.
Let me try one more a different way.
Our role models at the time were
Jean Paul Satre and Simone de Beauvoir
because they were said to have had
a polygamous relationship
which had lasted their entire lives.
(birds chirping)
Anna had had affairs,
and so had I.
Of course, we both got jealous at times,
but we believed that jealousy
was something to be transcended
and that it was possible to love
more than one person at a time...
(beach music playing)
... which is how I ended up
becoming involved with Caroline.
We had met in Paris
a few months earlier
and had spent three
idyllic days together.
I know I said that we couldn't afford
to shoot in Paris, and we really can't,
but the actress playing Caroline,
her visa expired and she actually
had to go back to France
before we could finish the film.
Actually, let me back up a little.
You see, I had a really hard time
finding a French actress to play my wife.
And then one day
I saw this woman on the street
who looked a lot like the real Caroline.
So I started talking to her
and found out that she was French.
So I asked her to audition.
CAVEH: So what do you do for money?
What's your business?
I have a make-up company.
CAVEH: Oh, really?
Are you a make-up artist?
Well, actually,
I teach people to do make-up.
CAVEH: Really? So you're
a make-up artist teacher?
Yes, I am.
Now, I should probably explain
that the real Caroline
was also a make-up artist,
which I took as a sign that I had found
the perfect person to play the role.
But then a few months later,
when we were about to do re-shoots,
something really weird happened.
Okay, something really weird
just happened.
I was looking for a French prostitute
to act in the movie
for the prostitute scene.
Where is it?
There it is.
I found this face that says Rebecca Lord.
So I open it...
And I'm like...
"Porn Star Rebecca Lord, French."
And I'm like, "Wow, she looks
so much like Caroline."
I go down.
I'm like, "She looks
so much like Caroline."
And then it says here,
"working first as a make-up artist."
That's what Caroline was.
And then it says that she'll be visiting
San Francisco August 7th through 11th.
That's when we're shooting
our re-shoots.
And I'm like, "Wait a minute.
Caroline... is a prostitute?"
And then there's all these movies.
Here's her list of credits.
Sluts of France.
So I had inadvertently cast a porn star
to play my French wife.
But anyway, getting back to the story.
We had met in Paris a few months earlier
and had spent three idyllic days together.
I had been totally honest with Caroline
about my relationship with Anna
and had even asked her...
Do you ever get jealous?
To which she had answered...
Life is too short for that.
I was blown away by her answer
and I found myself starting
to fall in love with Caroline.
But I still believed that Anna
was the true love of my life.
But then a month later,
Caroline flew to the States to see me,
and it was then that the trouble started.
You see,
Anna became jealous of Caroline
and insisted that I choose between them.
I didn't want to choose between them.
I wanted to be able to see them both.
But then Anna got
a summer internship in New York,
and Caroline and I ended up
spending the summer together.
Which is why when her visa expired.
I offered to marry her
so that she could stay in the States.
Now, I should probably explain
that I wasn't exactly the marrying type.
In fact, I was totally against marriage.
You see, I had grown up
during the Vietnam War
and I saw marriage as pat
of the same capitalist system
that had produced
the genocide in Vietnam.
But I was also influenced
by performance at...
... and by the idea of life itself
as a kind of performance piece.
And to me the institution of marriage
was so inherently absurd
that I tried to subvert it
by treating it as performance art.
I do.
Except that the joke,
as it turned out, was on me.
Because when Anna found out
that I had gotten married to Caroline,
she didn't take it so well.
(phone slams)
And then I did something
incredibly dumb.
You see, Caroline and I were
about to run out of money...
... and the idea of having to get a job was,
in my mind, a fate worse than death.
The only occupation I was interested in
was that of famous filmmaker.
But the few experimental films
that I had made
hadn't exactly been greeted
with enthusiasm by the film world.
To remedy this situation,
I had recently written a script
about the French poet Arthur Rimbaud
which I was convinced
would revolutionize cinema...
... and which Caroline insisted it would
be easy to raise money for in France.
It will be easy to raise money
for this in France.
But moving to France
turned out to be a disaster.
Most of the film producers I approached
wouldn't even talk to me.
The few that did
just told me that I was nobody.
Meanwhile, my relationship
with Caroline had started to unravel.
Caroline was insanely jealous of Anna
and would cry hysterically
whenever I would write her a letter
or talk to her on the phone.
Hi, how are you doing?
I was starting to feel trapped,
and it was hard not to blame Caroline
for having gotten in the way
of my relationship with Anna.
And then one day,
I got a letter from Anna
saying that she was going
to be in Amsterdam
and asking
if I would like to meet her there.
I was ecstatic.
I felt that I was finally being given a chance
to get back together with Anna.
But Caroline knew that if I left
I would never come back,
so she decided to jump out a window.
The thought of being responsible
for her death
- was way more guilt than I could handle.
- (siren wails)
- Caroline! Caroline!
- No! No!
So I agreed never to see Anna again.
It was by far the most
painful decision I ever made.
But I did it because years
of going to Sunday school
had taught me to equate virtue
with sacrifice.
- Can I come down?
- MAN: One more time.
I should probably also explain
that when I was in college
I had once asked my friend Arnold...
What's your, like, ultimate goal in life?
And he had said...
To be a saint.
I'd been blown away by his answer...
... and I decided that I too
would try to become a saint.
Which is why,
when Caroline asked me
to cut all ties with the only person
I had ever truly loved,
I agreed.
When I found out much later
that Anna had gotten married
to someone else,
I was devastated.
I had still been secretly hoping that Caroline
and I would eventually break up
and that Anna and I
would one day get back together.
But now I realized that it was really over.
I tried my best to transcend my feelings
and to resign myself
to a life of quiet desperation.
But the truth is I was incredibly angry.
I was angry at God,
I was angry at Caroline,
and I was angry at myself.
But mostly I was angry at Caroline.
And then one day
I was walking down the street
when I saw... this prostitute.
There was something about her
that turned me on in a way
that I had never been turned on before.
It was as if I had been hypnotized.
And then I suddenly found myself saying
something that I had never said before.
I said the words...
Now, I should probably explain that I had
always considered myself a feminist
and had even marched
in an anti-pornography rally once.
Which is why
when I suddenly found
myself saying the words...
...I half expected the prostitute
to run screaming...
... or to slap me in the face.
The fact that she didn't,
but smiled instead and said...
... made my head spin.
Afterwards, I was a nervous wreck.
I couldn't get her out of my mind.
- Hi.
I thought that if I masturbated,
I would get her out of my system.
But it didn't work.
So after several days
of compulsive masturbation,
I decided that I needed a new strategy.
You see, I knew that she was
just a regular person.
But in my mind, I had somehow made her
into an image of erotic salvation.
(harp music plays)
And it seemed that the only way to get her
off the erotic pedestal that I had put her on
was to have a real conversation with her.
Unfortunately, she wasn't there.
I was mad at myself for having wasted
so many hours of my day,
but I didn't want to leave empty-handed.
I asked that same question to every
prostitute that was there that day.
I might even have asked
some of them twice.
Afterwards, I felt strangely euphoric.
And I returned home feeling that I had
finally gotten this thing out of my system.
But I was wrong.
Instead of fantasizing
about just the one prostitute,
I was now fantasizing about all of them.
I went back the next day...
and the next day...
and the next.
At first it was enough just to talk to them...
... and to fantasize
about them afterwards.
But after a while, just talking to them
was no longer enough.
Now, I know that a lot of guys
in my situation
would have just gone ahead
and had sex with the prostitute
and not told their wife about it.
But I had this thing about honesty.
You see, when I was a kid,
my mother found out that my father
had been cheating on her
and made him drive my sister and me
to this other woman's apartment
in order to humiliate him in front of us.
I was too young to know what sex was,
but I knew that it was a very bad thing
and that it was responsible
for my parents' divorce.
I was only eight years old at the time,
but I began to hate my father.
And I vowed to myself
that I would never be like him.
You know, if you really need
to see a prostitute, you can.
I don't want to see a prostitute.
I want to try to resist.
But I think I need your help.
What do you want me to do?
I just need to be able to talk to you.
I think if I can talk to you about it,
I'll be less tempted,
and it'll be easier for me to resist.
You can talk to me about it.
I can?
Of course.
God, I feel so much better.
Are you tempted to have
intercourse with a prostitute
or just to get a blow job?
Oh, no. Just get a blow job.
I would never want to have intercourse
with one. That would gross me out.
- Really?
- Oh, yeah.
You're the only person I'd ever want
to have intercourse with.
You promise?
Yeah, I promise.
Is there anything I can do
to make you less tempted?
Maybe if you could give me
blow jobs more often?
I don't mind.
I can even give you a blow job
right now if you like.
I felt guilty accepting her offer,
but I thought it might be a good idea.
I was still fantasizing
that she was a prostitute,
but the fact that she knew
and accepted this part of me
made it different than before.
It made it something we were sharing,
something that we were doing together.
And I felt that I was seeing Caroline
for the first time.
After I came, I was still hard.
This was something that had
never happened to me before.
It was as if my no longer
having to repress my sexuality
had suddenly unleashed a backlog
of repressed sexual energy.
So Caroline offered to give me
another blow job.
(moaning loudly)
To my astonishment, I was still hard.
So Caroline offered to give me
yet another blow job.
(moaning loudly)
Afterwards, I was still hard.
I had never seen anything like it,
and I actually started to get scared.
I was afraid that my erection had become
permanent and would never go away.
Caroline offered to give me
yet another blow job,
but I had recently
gotten a job as a film critic
and I didn't want to be late
to my first screening.
On the way there
my erection finally subsided.
At that moment I was filled
with boundless love for Caroline,
and I felt closer to her than ever before.
As part of our newfound intimacy,
I started pointing out to Caroline
the women I was attracted to.
I like that one.
That one?
She's gross!
Not to me.
- I like that one, too.
- You're kidding, right?
No, I'm serious.
She's exactly my type.
But she's so vulgar.
I know. That's what I like
about her. It's true.
Did you see that woman?
I would love to have sex with her.
It was great to be able
to be totally honest with Caroline,
and I felt that I was finally having
the kind of open and honest relationship
that I'd always dreamed of.
Whoa! Look at those lips.
I would love a blow job from her.
Did you see that?
But after a while,
Caroline couldn't take it anymore.
- What's the matter?
- What do you think?
I'm sick and tired of you
staring at other women all the time!
- It's humiliating!
- What do you want me to do?
You want me to hide the fact
that I'm attracted to somebody?
How would you like it if you saw me drooling
over every guy I was attracted to? Huh?
Well, I'd probably feel a little jealous,
but I'd try to transcend it.
I would!
Didn't you say you wanted me
to be totally honest?
Well, I've changed my mind!
But my not being able
to be totally honest with her
made me feel alienated once again.
And I started obsessing about the various
women I would see on the street.
I remember this one time,
I saw a woman on the subway
that I was particularly attracted to.
I don't know what I was thinking.
but I suddenly started following her.
For some reason, I was dying
to reach out and touch her butt.
And I was trying to get up
the courage to do this
when her boyfriend suddenly appeared.
But I had been so turned on by her
that all I wanted to do was masturbate.
The only place I could find
was a confessional.
There was something
about masturbating in a confessional
that appealed to my sense
of transgression.
And it wasn't long before I had masturbated
in every cathedral in Paris.
Meanwhile, Caroline and I had
started fighting more and more,
and I had started threatening
to have sex with a prostitute
in order to get her
to stop fighting with me.
I'm going to go have sex with a prostitute!
Fine! Go get your dick sucked
by a prostitute! See if I care!
And then one day I somehow
managed to convince myself
that I was hurting her more by constantly
threatening to have sex with a prostitute
than I would by just doing it
and getting it out of my system
once and for all.
I wanted to reach out and touch her butt,
but I felt shy.
I didn't know if that was allowed.
(water running)
(turns water off)
(opens wrapper)
I was certainly tempted,
but I had every intention of resisting having
intercourse until she said the words...
For some reason, those words triggered
a chemical reaction in my brain.
And it was suddenly as if I had no choice.
I'm not sure why...
... but the fact that her delivery
was so unconvincing
just turned me on even more.
There's something I have to tell you.
I know.
You had sex with a prostitute.
How'd you know?
I can tell.
You're not mad at me?
No, I'm not mad at you.
I think it was the right thing to do
because now I've finally
gotten it out of my system.
I love you.
I know. Just please,
go take a shower.
So, tell me what happened.
I told her the whole story.
But when I got to the part about
the intercourse, she got pretty upset.
You had intercourse?
But I used a condom.
You promised you weren't going to!
I know, I'm sorry.
I tried not to, but I couldn't help myself.
She said the words "rape me,"
and I just got really turned on after that.
Now, I think I should explain that this was
especially difficult for Caroline to hear
because she herself had been raped.
I had hoped that being completely honest
would bring us closer together,
but I had seriously miscalculated.
I don't want to have sex tonight.
I wasn't suggesting it.
It's not to punish you, you know.
I know.
It's just, I need more time to get over it.
I understand.
Take all the time you need.
I was surprised at how little time
it took for her to get over it.
It only took three days.
After that, everything seemed
pretty much back to normal.
Except for one thing...
Caroline started having fainting spells.
Caroline! Caroline!
What's the matter?
I don't know.
I don't feel well.
We went to see several doctors to try
to figure out what was wrong with her,
but none of them
could ever find anything.
She's perfectly fine.
You know, it's been over two months
since we've had sex.
If you want me to suck you,
I'll suck you.
That's not why I'm saying it.
I'm saying it because I think
maybe you're mad at me.
I'm not mad at you.
I just haven't been feeling well.
Are you sure you don't want me
to give you oral sex?
Caveh, I really don't feel well.
This went on for a whole year,
during which my desire to have sex
with a prostitute gradually returned.
I tried to escape my marital unhappiness
by throwing myself into my work...
I said higher!
... but I was unable to raise money
for any of my film projects.
What's the matter with you?
Can't you jump higher than that?
Out of desperation, I had applied
to film school back in the States.
Soon after we moved to Los Angeles,
Caroline confessed to me that she
had fallen in love with my friend Gary...
... and then she fell in love
with my friend Keith...
... and then she fell in love
with my friend Teddy.
A week later
she and Teddy moved in together,
and a year later they were married.
This is the real Caroline.
I asked her to play herself in the movie,
but she declined.
I tried to stay in touch over the years,
but after a while Caroline
stopped returning my calls.
I realize I haven't made it seem
like I was in love with Caroline,
but the truth is I really was,
as much as I was capable
of loving anyone.
I mean, I was only 26 at the time.
After the break-up, all I could think about
was finding someone to have sex with.
Hi, can I get in?
How much?
How much do you want to spend?
Okay. Can I get in?
- Hi, my name's Candy.
- Hi, I'm Bob.
- Nice to meet you.
- Nice to meet you, too.
- Where are we going?
- Pull over right here.
Can I have the money now?
Oh, sure.
Do you have any change?
No, but If you give me 40,
I'll make it extra good.
Look out for cops, okay?
Afterwards, I felt euphoric.
But by the time I got home,
I felt empty and depressed.
And I vowed never to have sex
with a prostitute again.
But then a few days later,
I found myself unable to stop obsessing
about that same prostitute.
Wanna date?
It was becoming a pattern.
Every time I would have sex
with a prostitute,
I would feel empty
and depressed afterwards,
and I would vow never to do it again.
And yet I honestly believed
that if I just did it enough times,
my desire to have sex with a prostitute
would eventually go away.
And then I met Christa.
I was walking down the hallway
at film school
when I saw her for the first time.
It was unusual for a woman
I had never met to say hi to me.
Because she did, I assumed
she wanted to have sex.
And then a few days later,
I saw her again.
Excuse me.
Do you know
how to open these?
I can't figure it out.
I can try.
Here you go.
It just twists off, huh?
You like Capra?
I love Capra.
- Hi, my name's Caveh.
- Hi, I'm Christa.
- Nice to meet you.
- Nice to meet you.
So anyway, she invited me to a party
she was giving that Friday night...
... and I went,
hoping to have sex with her.
- Is Christa here?
- Yeah, come on in.
(music playing)
I failed to get her to have sex with me.
But I did get her to lend me
a copy of her screenplay.
It was one of the best screenplays
I'd ever read.
And I felt that I had finally found
someone that I could relate to.
I called her immediately
and asked her out.
It was then that it happened,
I looked into her eyes
and I saw her soul.
Until then, she had just been someone
that I wanted something from.
But at that moment I suddenly
saw that she was a real human being,
with needs and feelings of her own.
It scared the shit out of me.
And then one night we were watching
Vivre Sa Vie by Jean-Luc Godard,
about a woman who becomes a prostitute.
You know what I heard?
I heard that Godard has
a prostitute fetish in real life.
Can you believe that?
I can't.
He seems so sensitive to women.
Well, that doesn't mean anything.
I mean, I'm sensitive to women,
and I have a prostitute fetish.
You're kidding, right?
No, I'm serious.
I can't believe that.
Well, it's true.
Caveh, how is that possible?
I mean, how can you justify that to yourself?
Well, I agree it's not
super spiritual or anything,
but I don't think it's so terrible either.
Caveh, it's like rape!
Those women have no choice.
Everybody has a choice.
Or else nobody does.
I can't believe you're saying this.
Well, it's true.
What are you doing?
I'm sorry. I have to leave.
I feel like I'm going to be sick.
Why, because I've had sex
with prostitutes?
Caveh, you don't understand.
I literally feel like
I'm going to throw up. I have to go.
(door slams)
A few days later, I saw her again.
- Still feeling nauseous?
- No.
Sure you don't mind
being seen with me?
Stop it.
I'm sorry. I just felt like
you thought I was disgusting.
I don't think that.
It's not like I'm still doing it.
I know. I'm sorry.
I don't want to have to
hide anything from you.
- Don't you want me to be honest?
- I do.
Caveh, let's make up.
A few weeks later
it was my birthday.
And I convinced Christa to take
Ecstasy with me to celebrate.
- Okay.
- Thank you.
That night, we felt closer
to each other than ever before.
But Ecstasy isn't just a love drug.
It's also a truth serum.
I love you so much.
I love you, too.
- You do?
- I do.
I don't want there to be
any secrets between us.
Caveh, I don't.
I don't either.
- Can I ask you something?
- Yeah.
- You'll tell me the truth?
- Yeah.
There isn't anything that you've never
told me before, is there?
I can take it.
- Yeah, there's one thing.
- What?
I've been wanting to tell you
but I've been scared.
- Caveh, you can tell me anything.
- Okay. Okay.
- Sometimes when we're having sex...
- Yeah?
...I fantasize about other women.
Christa was devastated by my confession
and became hyper-sensitive
about other women.
She would notice them
even before I would
and immediately scrutinize my face
for any sign of interest.
It was unnerving after a while.
So I tried to be upfront about it.
She's pretty sexy.
She's more your type
than I am, isn't she?
What are you talking about?
And then one day I was on my way
to meet Christa for lunch
when I decided to stop and get some gas.
There was something about the way
the woman was bending over
that turned me on.
- Hi. I'm really sorry I'm late.
- Caveh, I've been waiting.
I know, I'm sorry.
I had a little masturbatory episode.
I had to stop for gas, and...
Did you just say
"a little masturbatory episode"?
Yeah. I had to stop for gas,
and there was this woman who was
kind of bending over to put gas in her car,
and she was really sexy,
and I just got really turned on
at the way she was bending over,
and I stopped at my apartment
so I could, you know, masturbate.
But it was really no big deal.
I just thought I should tell you.
I just...
- I just don't want to talk about it.
- What about truth?
- I don't want you to tell me every single day.
- Don't you want to know the truth?
I already know these things
are happening, Caveh.
I know you. I know you.
I understand you.
And believe me,
it will be much better with us.
Don't tell me.
- I don't want to know.
- Okay, fine.
Don't tell me.
And then one night I happened to watch
a news program on massage parlors.
Vice investigators say
they've recently found seven brothels
masquerading as massage parlors.
Police say these busts
are just the tip of the iceberg
and that many massage parlors
are actually fronts for prostitution.
This is Maya Ellington
reporting for Channel 3 News.
Want a massage?
Yeah. Um...
How much?
Forty dollars for half-hour.
Does that include everything?
That includes a half-hour.
- Who gives the massages?
- Different girls.
- Are you one of them?
- No.
Can I see what they look like?
No. You have to pay first.
Get out of here!
Get out of here!
- I'm sorry.
- Get out of here!
I'm sorry.
You get out of here!
Get out of here!
I visited every massage parlor in L.A.
At first, it turned me on
just to grab the receptionists' breasts
and get thrown out.
But after a while, even this
was no longer exciting enough.
And then one day I had an idea.
I think maybe the reason I haven't
been able to get over my prostitute fetish
is because I've never really
gone all the way with one.
What do you mean?
Greg was my best friend at the time.
We had met at UCLA and had made
a few student films together.
I mean, I've never really treated one
the way I do in my fantasies.
Which is how?
Which is pretty violent.
Like in my fantasies
I'll grab whoever it is by the hair
and I'll make her say things like
"I wanna suck your dick" and stuff,
and maybe call her a bitch or a slut,
and then start fucking her really hard
in the mouth and make her gag and stuff.
But in real life, I've never done that.
Why not?
Because I want them to like me.
I see.
So what I'm thinking is that maybe
if I went to a prostitute one last time
and just did everything
I always fantasize about doing,
then I think maybe I could get it
out of my system once and for all.
Will they let you do those things?
I assume.
Sounds like it's worth a try.
It is, right?
Yeah, give it a try.
But I couldn't do it behind Christa's back.
I mean, I had to tell her, right?
Are you serious?
Christa, I can't keep repressing my lust.
It's not healthy.
What do you want me to do?
Say okay?
- Yeah.
- Well, it's not okay.
If you have sex with a prostitute,
it's over between us!
Christa, please, try to understand.
It's just something that I have to do.
I can't believe you'd be willing
to sacrifice our relationship
just in order to fulfill some sick fantasy!
I have no intention
of sacrificing our relationship.
I'd be doing this
to strengthen our relationship.
Christa, how is this constructive?
The last thing I wanted was to lose Christa,
so I decided to get professional help.
CAVEH: My mother had like
a phobia about changing my diapers.
So she had like this aversion
to, you know, diapers.
Any recent dreams you can remember?
I had this dream
where I was sitting on the toilet,
and then I was getting
smaller and smaller,
and then I fell in.
I need you, Mommy!
- Louder.
- I need you, Mommy!
- Harder.
- I need you, Mommy!
- That's it.
- I need you, Mommy!
- That's it.
- I need you, Mommy!
- Louder!
- I need you, Mommy!
But none of it seemed to help.
Finally, after weeks
of struggling to resist,
I decided to do what I had been
struggling for weeks not to do,
even if it meant losing Christa.
Take off clothes.
Suck me.
You give me money?
Oh, yeah.
Um, twenty now,
and twenty later
if you do everything I say.
No, standing up.
Oh, wait.
First say, "I wanna suck your dick."
No, wait.
First say, "I wanna suck your dick."
No understand very good English.
Say, "I want to suck your dick."
No understand.
Say "I"...
No, wait. Say "I"..."I"...
Say "I."
"I." Say "I."
"I." Say "I."
The fact that she had no idea what I was
saying took a lot of the thrill out of it.
Okay, fine, just suck it.
Oh, yeah. Yeah.
Suck it. Yeah, suck it, you bitch.
Yeah, suck it, slut.
Oh, yeah, you love it, don't you?
You little slut.
Hold on, hold on.
Stand over here.
Get over here. Yeah.
Afterwards, the most
amazing thing happened.
She patted me affectionately
on the butt and said...
Come again.
I had gone there to express that pat
of myself which I was most ashamed of,
and yet she had smiled at me afterwards
with acceptance and compassion.
I felt that I had just had
a mystical experience
and that something inside me
had finally changed.
That night I went over to Christa's
to tell her that I was ready to be
in a committed relationship.
- What do you want?
- I want to get back together.
(lock bolts)
Christa was understandably skeptical
about my transformation...
... but I eventually managed
to convince her that I was finally cured.
Now at this point in the film,
there's supposed to be a scene
in which Christa is giving me a blow job.
Not a real blow job, a fake blow job.
But the actress playing Christa
has refused to do the scene.
Do you feel like it's domineering
or something to women?
No, it's just something that I'm
not comfortable with doing on screen.
Could you please do it anyway?
So if you could just imagine
that she's giving me a blow job,
and if you could also imagine
the following voice-over...
And sex suddenly became very different.
Instead of fantasizing
that Christa was a stranger,
I tried to just be present
to what was happening.
And it was overwhelming.
I felt almost too loved.
I couldn't believe that another
human being could love me enough
to actually want to take my penis,
which I had always
considered ugly and dirty,
into her mouth,
or would be willing
to swallow my semen.
- Hey, sweetie.
I missed you.
How's it going?
All right.
Why, what's the matter?
There's something I have to tell you.
Remember I told you I was going
to see a movie with Robby tonight?
I couldn't help myself,
and we started making out.
What do you mean
you couldn't help yourself?
I don't know. It just happened.
I wasn't planning it or anything.
What do you mean by "making out"?
We just like kissed and stuff.
What do you mean "and stuff"?
We just fooled around a little.
And then what happened?
I'm supposed to see him
tomorrow night for dinner.
But I'm going to tell him I made a mistake
and I can't keep seeing him in that way.
Caveh, I'm sorry.
I felt incredibly jealous, but I tried
my best to transcend my feelings.
I can't do this.
I feel like I'm kissing Robby.
I feel I can taste
his saliva in your mouth.
Well, how do you think I feel
when you have sex with a prostitute?
I could see her point,
and I knew that I had no right to be jealous
after everything that I had put her through.
But I just couldn't help myself.
That night, I called Robby
at 3:00 in the morning
and I asked him as a personal favor to me
to please stop making out with Christa.
And he agreed.
Thanks, Robby.
I really appreciate it.
But he lied.
They made out again the next night.
- You promised you wouldn't.
- I know. I'm sorry.
What were you thinking, Christa?
I don't know.
I just couldn't help myself.
She was starting to sound like me.
Christa continued
to spend time with Robby,
and I just got more and more jealous,
more and more needy,
and more and more insecure.
So we started going to couples therapy.
So, Caveh,
what are you thinking right now?
I was thinking that I'm attracted to you.
Meanwhile, our fighting
started to escalate out of control.
And before I knew it, my desire to have sex
with a prostitute had returned.
- How much?
- What do you want?
- How much for a blow job?
- 50 bucks.
Let me think about it.
After that night,
I started cruising regularly,
sometimes until dawn.
And then I met Devin.
Austin, Texas
I had been invited
by the Austin Film Society
to show a film that
Greg and I had co-directed.
Devin was one of the organizers.
That night we ended up
getting stoned together,
and I found myself suddenly
feeling very attracted to her.
And then on my last day in Austin,
we decided to take mushrooms together.
Tripping with Devin was one of the most
mystical experiences of my life.
I felt like we
understood each other in a way
that I had never thought possible
between two people.
After we came down, I told her the whole
story of my relationship with Christa.
You know, I bet she's
probably fucking Robby right now.
- Caveh, you're crazy.
- Why am I crazy?
Because you should be happy for her.
You should hope she's having a good fuck.
You know, you're right. I should.
You know, I don't even
believe in monogamy.
Fuck, man, neither do I.
It seemed to me that I had
finally found the soul mate
that I had been searching for all my life.
Ow! What are you doing?
You see, there's this person here,
his name is Caveh.
He's real. He exists.
- You mean me?
- Yeah, I mean you.
Look, as noble as it is to try to sacrifice
yourself and your needs for her,
you have to be true to yourself
because you're real, too.
But the problem is I can't stand to hurt her.
You're hurting her more by prolonging
a relationship that isn't working
than by ending it right now.
Yeah, but I'm also scared.
I'm afraid of being lonely and horny
and desperate and always on the prowl.
I hate that.
Those don't sound like very good
reasons for staying together.
You're right.
I agreed with everything she said,
but I wondered whether Devin would
be able to accept my prostitute fetish
any better than Christa.
But Christa's really been trying.
I mean, I'm fucked up, too.
Like, for example,
I have this prostitute fetish.
Big fucking deal.
Everybody's got stuff like that.
When Devin said those words,
it suddenly struck me that it wasn't
my prostitute fetish that was the problem.
It was Christa that was the problem.
On the way back to L.A.,
I made up my mind
to break up with Christa.
We had been together for 3 years.
This is the real Christa.
For the first few years after our break-up
we weren't on the best of terms.
But now things are better between us.
She's since gotten married
and recently had a baby.
After the break-up,
I couldn't stop thinking about Devin.
For the next month,
I wrote to her every day.
And when I received an invitation
from two European film festivals,
I invited Devin to come along.
Our first few days together were idyllic.
But then things got more complicated.
I think she likes you.
- CAVEH: You think?
- DEVIN: Definitely.
I don't know. She's not really my type.
Not slutty enough.
Yeah, right.
You know, if you want to see prostitutes
while we're in Europe, feel free.
You can just go,
"Hey, Devin, catch you later,"
and go and do your thing.
You know, I was thinking
about what you said earlier,
and I just wanted to say that I really do
want to get over my prostitute fetish.
You know, I do.
But it did occur to me
that maybe if I could get you to watch
while I had sex with one,
that might be really healing for me.
Caveh, that would be so intense for me.
Yeah, it would
It's just that like a lot of it
has to do with shame,
and I think that if you were watching,
then it would be something
that we were doing together.
And then I think that might help me
to not feel so much shame about it,
and then hopefully like I wouldn't feel
the need to do it as much.
The next day we rented a car
and drove to Milan to see
Leonardo da Vinci's The Last Supper.
Hey, a prostitute!
Do you want to stop
and check her out?
I don't know.
Well, if you don't mind.
Nah, go for it.
So what do you think?
Do you wanna watch?
If it's really important to you, I will.
Thanks, Devin.
I really appreciate it.
She doesn't want you to watch.
So what do you want to do?
I don't know.
Let's just go.
On our last day in Italy,
I saw the girl from the boardwalk again.
Her name was Paola, and it turned out
that she was an aspiring actress.
She had seen my movie and liked it.
- How'd it go?
- Great. She gave me her shoes.
No way. Cool.
Yeah, she saw my movie. We kissed.
You kissed? Lucky you.
It was an okay kiss.
Not like yours.
Mm. Did you even notice
how I kept on riding
when you decided to go
and check her out?
No, I guess I didn't.
Yeah. I just wanted to point it out
'cause I don't think most girlfriends
would have done that,
just take off and let you do your thing.
Yeah, I guess you're right.
I'd just like a little appreciation,
'cause most girlfriends wouldn't stand for it,
let alone make it easier for you.
Yeah, that's true.
Thanks, Devin.
- Yeah, right.
- No, I really appreciate it.
- But just do me one favor, okay?
- What?
- Just one.
- Okay.
Just don't fuck her in our bed, okay?
I was surprised that she would care,
but I chose to be touched
rather than alarmed.
Paola had invited me to have a drink
with her and her friends that night.
I had asked Devin
if she wanted to come along,
secretly hoping she would decline.
But she didn't decline.
I couldn't decide where to sit,
I wanted to sit next to Paola,
but I felt I should sit next to Devin.
I decided to compromise
by sitting next to neither,
thereby remaining equidistant from both,
like Christ in da Vinci's
The Last Supper.
I'm going to head back to the hotel.
I'll see you later.
Don't you want to go swimming?
No. Why don't you go
with your Italian friend?
I'd rather go with you.
Nah, go with her.
See ya.
Are you sure
you don't want to swim naked?
Yes, I'm sure.
No, it'll be fun.
- No.
- Really.
Are you sure you don't want
to sleep together?
Yes, I'm sure.
But maybe when you come to Torino.
Great, I'll probably be old by then.
I'll write to you.
And if ever you need someone
to act in one of your movies,
just give me a call.
That was the line
that made me hate myself.
I felt like a sleazy
Hollywood film director.
On the way home, I had
a nightmarish vision of my future.
I saw myself 20 years later,
aging and still alone.
By the time I got back to the hotel,
I was feeling empty and depressed.
All I wanted was to get into bed
and snuggle up next to Devin.
- So did you fuck her?
- No, I didn't.
Why not? She wanted you.
Not enough, apparently.
Well, I almost fucked somebody.
Some dude that I met in a bar.
I felt jealous and insecure,
but I wanted to believe
that Devin and I were engaged
in a high-minded experiment
in self-transcendence.
The next day we flew to Munich.
Fuck, I've got such a fucking hangover.
Excuse me, miss,
can I have a scotch, please?
- STEWARDESS: One scotch?
- Yeah.
- I thought you had a hangover.
- I do. That's why I need a drink.
Is that a good idea?
It's the only way.
It's true.
I know what I'm doing.
But this is my last drink.
I promise.
You promised you weren't
going to drink anymore.
Well, the guy kept buying me beers.
I couldn't really turn him down.
- Why not?
- Free beers, man.
It was starting to dawn on me
that Devin had a drinking problem.
Now, I should probably explain
that the actress playing Devin
had a drinking problem in real life.
The cause of and answer to
all of life's problems.
But getting back to the story...
(TV playing)
Devin, stop it. You said that was
going to be your last one.
Why don't you go fuck a prostitute
and leave me alone?
Devin, what are you talking about?
You said you were going to stop drinking!
I guess I changed my mind.
Devin, I think you've had enough.
Well, that's funny, Caveh,
because I don't think I have.
You fucking prick!
That shit's expensive!
I was starting to miss Christa.
That night, I spoke
to every prostitute in Munich.
- Blasen?
- Blasen. Ja. Blasen.
After conversing with the street prostitutes,
I made the rounds of the brothels.
There was one prostitute
I found especially tempting.
I was dying to have sex with her,
but I managed to resist.
And I returned to the hotel
excited to tell Devin
that I had successfully resisted.
The next day the film festival organizers
insisted that we pay a $300 fine
for damages to the room
and that we leave town
immediately after my screening.
I am not having another drink
for a long time, I can tell you that.
Well, good. I'm glad.
Devin had a bad hangover
and slept all afternoon.
It was our last day in Munich,
so I decided to go sightseeing.
(music playing)
Fuck you, Devin.
Where are you going?
I'm gonna get a blow job.
Okay, I'll come with you.
I don't want you to.
Why not? I thought
you wanted me to watch.
Didn't you say you wanted your girlfriends
to watch so you could feel "accepted"?
Well, I'm mad at you right now.
Well, hey, pal, it's your big chance.
- Do you speak English?
- Yes.
Um, hi.
Um, I'm looking for a woman
who was here last night.
She had black hair.
Is she here?
She's going to be busy for another hour.
Maybe I can help you.
I was really hoping to see her.
I am very good.
I'm sure that's true,
but I need to think about it.
I don't see the one I came for.
So why don't you get your dick sucked
by one of these?
Because I liked the other one better.
- Well, if she's not here...
- She is here.
She says she's with a customer.
She'll be done in an hour.
An hour?
We're going to wait an hour?
I need another drink.
Devin, we can't afford another drink.
What do you mean
we can't afford another drink?
You bring your girlfriend to a brothel
and you won't even buy her a drink?
Devin, we only have 200 marks left.
It's just enough for me to get a blow job.
It's not enough for a drink and a blow job.
Man, fuck you, Caveh.
I want a drink.
Devin, you haven't even finished
what's in your glass.
There, it's finished.
Thank you.
Excuse me. The woman
you wanted is available now.
Follow me.
I'm sorry, I was looking
for a different woman with black hair.
- She was here last night.
- She's not here tonight.
- That wasn't her.
- What do you mean?
The one I wanted isn't here tonight.
We waited a fucking hour
and she's not here?
So what do you want to do?
Do you want to go?
I'm not sure.
I can't decide.
Well, why don't you
fuck one of those?
I don't know.
I really wanted that one.
You know, I'm not that attracted
to any of the other ones.
We came all the way here.
You might as well do it.
So, you want to go upstairs with me?
Um, maybe. I'm not sure.
I can give you very much pleasure.
I'm sure that's true.
So, are you ready?
Um, I don't know.
I can't decide.
Maybe I can help you decide.
- What do you think?
- Well, it's certainly very tempting.
Where are you going?
Don't worry about her.
She'll be fine.
- Where are they going?
- She won't hurt her.
Um, I'm sorry.
I have to go.
Fuck you, Caveh!
Fuck you! Fuck you!
- Devin, calm down.
- Fuck you!
What did she say to you?
She was actually concerned
about me, unlike you!
She said, "Come with me,
and I'll take care of you
and I'll make you feel better."
Did she mean sexually?
It's all you can think about, isn't it?
Well, is that what she meant?
I'm getting out!
Devin, no, wait!
Stop it! Close it!
When we got back to the hotel,
Devin insisted on giving me a blow job.
I told her I didn't want one,
but she held me down and forced me.
I was scared the whole time that
she was going to bite my penis off.
The next morning we flew to New York.
How much?
Let me pull it out for you.
Get down on your knees.
I'm not getting down on my fucking knees.
There's broken glass.
Oh. Sorry.
The next day
we went our separate ways.
I wanted to say "I love you,"
but I couldn't.
But as I headed towards the gate,
I felt able to say it and wanted to.
But it was too late.
This is the real Devin.
We remained friends over the years,
and she later appeared in a film I made
called I Don't Hate Las Vegas Anymore.
By then she had already
been diagnosed with cancer
and had just undergone chemotherapy.
She died three years later.
On the way home,
I felt an overwhelming sense of loss.
Ever since I had met Devin,
I had believed that I had
finally found the one person
who could accept me the way I was.
But now I realized that I had been wrong.
I had once read somewhere that
everyone who comes into our lives
is a mirror for something inside us
that we're not seeing.
So I asked myself
how Devin might be a mirror for something
inside me that I wasn't seeing.
At first I couldn't see it.
Devin was an alcoholic,
I wasn't an alcoholic.
But then it suddenly occurred to me
that even though I wasn't an alcoholic,
I was kind of like an alcoholic about sex.
- Caveh?
- Yeah, hi.
Back in L.A. I went to see a therapist
who suggested I attend
a Sex Addicts Anonymous meeting.
I scanned the faces of the other men
in the room for signs of perversion,
but they looked just like anybody else.
Good evening, my name is Ken.
I'm a recovering sex addict.
ALL: Hi, Ken.
Welcome to the Monday night male-only
meeting of Sex Addicts Anonymous.
This is a closed meeting.
Only those desiring
their own sexual abstinence, please.
In S.A.A., we define abstinence
not as the complete elimination
of all sexuality from the addict's life,
but only of those
compulsive sexual behaviors
that lead to pitiful
and incomprehensible demoralization.
We leave it up to the individual to decide
which compulsive behaviors
he wishes to abstain from.
I said that I'm a sex addict.
Are there any other sex addicts present?
Hi, everybody. My name's Sasha
and I'm a sex addict.
ALL: Hi, Sasha.
Last week I finally took all my porn
and I just put it in a garbage bag
and I just hauled it out
'cause I was just so sick of it.
And I think of all the hundreds
and thousands of hours
I'm wasting in my car cruising...
...staying in sex clubs all night
when there's absolutely nobody
that I want to have sex with at all.
And it really started to affect
my work, my marriage...
Everyone had a different addiction.
Ken was into gay bath houses.
Ron was a compulsive masturbator.
And Tom was a voyeur.
But their stories
all had one thing in common...
that the more they had
indulged their addictions,
the stronger their addictions had become.
I'm in my hallway and I'm bleeding,
and I just realized that that's it,
I'm at fucking rock bottom.
And I really need some support tonight,
'cause it's been a really hard week.
It's 9:15. This is the time
we usually set aside for newcomers.
Would any of the newcomers like to share?
As you can see, I'm not
very good at crying on camera.
But I did actually break down and cry
at that first Sex Addicts Anonymous
meeting that I went to,
and I actually happened
to tape record the meeting.
And this is actually the tape
that I made at that first meeting.
This was in 1991.
And I'm just going to play it for you
so you can hear what it sounded like.
CAVEH: I feel really moved
by what everybody is saying.
- MAN: What's your name?
- My name's Robert.
ALL: Hi, Robert.
I didn't use my real name.
(blows nose)
I'm blowing my nose.
I used to be married and...
It's hard to talk.
I started seeing prostitutes and...
... it destroyed my marriage and...
Then I got...
... involved with somebody else and...
... that just ended recently...
... for the same reason.
Ooh, I hit the record button.
Anyway, that was, uh...
That was that.
I mean, there's more, but...
Let's go back to the movie.
I started going to meetings
regularly after that
and was eventually able to stop
having sex with prostitutes long enough
to get married again.
Unfortunately, that marriage
didn't work out so well.
Two years later, as our marriage
was falling apart,
I had sex with a prostitute
and told my wife.
She filed for divorce soon after.
Hi, my name's Caveh.
I'm a sex addict.
ALL: Hi, Caveh.
It wasn't easy,
but after several more years of going
to meetings at least once a week,
I was eventually able to stop having sex
with prostitutes altogether.
It's hard to explain
how I was eventually able to stop.
It wasn't just one thing.
But the way I think about it is in terms
of the story of Orpheus and the Sirens.
The Sirens were these mythical creatures
whose singing was so seductive
that anyone hearing them
would go insane with desire.
Sailors would fling themselves
overboard to try to reach them,
only to die upon the rocks below.
But when Jason and the Argonauts
had to sail past the Sirens,
Orpheus, the greatest singer
in ancient Greece,
came up with an ingenious idea.
He simply started singing.
And because his song was so beautiful,
the oarsmen had ears only for his song
and didn't even hear the Sirens.
And I feel like
that's what happened to me.
I heard a more beautiful song.
- And then I met Mandy.
- Hi.
- This is Mandy.
- We just went swimming.
We met in a dance class
and fell in love soon afterwards.
We've been together for seven years now,
which is by far the longest
I've ever been with anyone.
- CAVEH: I love you, sweetie.
- I love you, too.
Now, I'm not saying we never fight.
Mandy, I was willing to talk about it.
You weren't.
We fight a lot.
Now he's in here and he's filming me.
But fighting no longer makes me
want to go have sex with a prostitute
or look for a new girlfriend.
Instead, I just hang in there
and really try to work it out.
I could go on and on
about how great she is,
but the wedding's about to begin.
Greg, let's do the boutonniere.
Are you ready?
Here we go.
(Pachelbel's Canon in D Major playing)
MAN: One, two, three.
(Jonathan Richman's My Baby
Love Love Loves Me Now playing)
# Oh, my baby love, love, loves me now #
# Even more than I prayed for #
# My baby love, love, loves me now #
# Even more than I prayed #
# I prayed #
# I have #
# But I didn't expect this #
# My baby love, love, loves me now #
# Even more than I prayed for #
# Even more than I prayed #
# Well, she loves #
# She does #
# But I had to be ready for it #
# She loves #
# She does #
# But I had to be ready #
# And I prayed #
# I have #
# And I was blessed #
# Oh, my baby love, love, loves me now #
# Even more than I prayed for #
# Even more than I prayed #
# Oh, my baby love, love, loves me now #
# Even more than I prayed for #
# Oh, my baby love, love, loves me now #
# Even more than I prayed #
# Well, she loves #
# She hates #
# But she communicates #
# And my baby love, love, loves me now #
# Even more than I prayed for #
# Even more than I prayed #
# Well, she loves #
# She does #
# But I had to be ready for it #
# She loves #
# She does #
# But I had to be ready #
# And I prayed #
# I asked, yeah #
# And I was blessed #
# Love, love, love #
# My baby love, love, loves me now #
# Even more than I prayed for #
# Even more than I prayed #