Every Sex Date Gives Him a New Identity

Milk in tea? That’s gross, says Erfan. He doesn’t understand at all why locals do it. He wonders if it goes back to colonial times. But, he quickly adds, he doesn’t judge. Which basically means the opposite when you have to state it that way. Still, small talk is a learned skill.

Sex happens between the two men shortly afterward. That’s why they met in the first place. A classic sex date, arranged on some app—there are more than enough to choose from. It’s simple and quick—at least sometimes. But it can also be tedious and nerve-wracking.

A dildo, if the partner can’t get hard

The unnamed Hong Kong protagonist spends most of his time having sex dates—often with expats. He’s young, slim, and good-looking; he doesn’t seem particularly picky. It doesn’t seem that hard for him to find what he’s after. On his phone, you hardly see him scrolling. No endless swiping, no ghosting, no annoying ads or fake profiles.

Yet, as it happens, not every encounter goes as planned. One person arrives far too early, the other can’t get an erection. The lead is surprisingly relaxed. For situations like these, he keeps a dildo at home, so at least the preparation for being passive isn’t entirely wasted.

He tells the stories of his previous encounters

At least as important as the sex itself seems to be the story of his partner. He is curious, asking, for instance, an East German man what life in the GDR was like, or a Thai sex worker how many men he sleeps with for money each day. Some small talk even evolves into political or philosophical discussions about the power (or lack thereof) of protests or fears about the future, while a few conversations stay flat and interchangeable.

His curiosity has a reason: from each sex date he takes a piece of the other person’s personality. At the next meeting, he introduces himself as a teacher, an actor, or a delivery driver, recounting the stories of his previous encounters.

How long is sex liberating?

What initially sounds like merely an entertaining idea, in Jun Li’s drama Queerpanorama raises intriguing questions: If sex dates are a freeing and empowering part of identity for many gay men, what do we take away from these encounters? Are they just names and stories, or is there more?

Can such familiarity over time truly constitute genuine intimacy—and fulfillment? What remains once the one-off encounter is over? How long is sex liberating, and when does it harden into sobriety?

The aesthetics resemble nude photography

The Hong Kong director Jun Li tells of his own experiences in Queerpanorama—some of them even played by the actual sex partners. The other roles were filled with non-professional actors. This makes the film authentic and approachable—even though the encounters that remain positively in memory are clearly in the majority. That may not line up with one’s own Grindr experiences, where the sex is forgotten as soon as the door closes behind you.

Formally, Jun Li’s third feature is especially interesting. It’s told entirely in black and white. The contrasts are stark, and the lighting is pared down to a minimum. In some shots you almost have to search for the main character. At the same time, this lends the sex scenes a distinctive aesthetic that recalls nude photography. That’s partly because the images (cinematography by Yuk Fai Hao) are often tightly framed by furniture or walls at the edges, the frame’s crop narrow, bringing the figures more into the center—or lying there.

Who is the young man really, and who does he want to be?

Queerpanorama presents the meetings episodically, one after another. In long takes, the men talk to each other, giving the drama a certain calm. Tension here is less about the plot than the visual beauty of the images.

The film philosophizes rather than offering clear answers. It isn’t a celebration of hedonism, nor a prudish moral tale that, in the old days—before apps—found everything better.

That’s also because the main character (played with convincing restraint by Jayden Cheung) remains elusive and emotionally distant due to his many shifts in identity. Who is he really, who does he want to be? What has he absorbed from others, and what is his true self? Queerpanorama invites viewers to ask themselves the same questions.