Sebastian

With its keen, sensual eye, “Sebastian” makes its portrait of an artist as a young sex worker brim with pained authenticity about how fleeting and seemingly transactional intimacies remain rife sites of exploration for queer writers.

British character actor Jonathan Hyde is understated and dignified as the editor who gets past Max's defenses, while relative newcomer Ruaridh Mollica lets you see every chink in Max's armor just before a piece of that armor falls away.

Despite the film’s confident naturalism, it seems less intimate as it goes on, with Max somehow growing more distant and generic as he becomes more comfortable in his own skin.

For all its gloomy aesthetic, there is something life-affirming about the kindness of a stranger who wants to read your work and the power that comes with owning one’s own words and stories.

The film chases its own tail, resulting in a foreseeable transformation that has the emotional resonance of an after-school special.

Mollica’s accomplished, measured performance drives Mäkelä’s sophomore feature, which refreshingly avoids judgment and gives Max the chance to embrace the wholeness of his queer sexuality through his experiences.

Ruaridh Mollica is tremendous as Max and even more compelling as Sebastian, and it’s all in the way he holds or breaks eye contact.

I quite liked the director’s 2017 prior feature A Moment in the Reeds, a raw, deeply felt gay romance between a Finnish youth and a Syrian refugee. This English-language followup is much more polished, but feels titillating in familiar ways.

Finnish filmmaker Mikko Makela finds layers of meaning, frankly exploring a range of moral questions. And while a couple of big plot points feel somewhat jarring and even distracting, the drama itself is internalised and gripping.

Unfortunately, Sebastian can’t quite seem to get past its own basic set up to deliver something exceptional, making this movie just another addition to an already overflowing genre.