Richard’s (Jan Gunnar Røise) doctor wants to know why he wants a castration – he doesn’t say why. He’s not the only character in Cute who doesn’t want to take care of themselves in more conventional ways. That other person is Stella (Gina Jaqueline), caretaker for Richard’s old mother and who has an eating disorder. They build a relationship, which helps him be more open to his mother about his secret desires. What happens, though, when his ex-stepdaughter Ea returns to his life and she crosses his boundaries?

Credit is due for Cute because it does deliver on certain cinematic elements that reflect its premise. The performances of the two leads are also competent, especially Jacqueline, this being her first role. The same goes for Røise, who, because that’s the job, asks viewers to sympathize with an unsympathetic character.

The camerawork here is also competent, with the first half pulling away from characters with unsympathetic tendencies. Cinematic aspects, sadly, can only do so much if a film’s perspective and writing is more dodgy. Listen, Cute isn’t my first movie about these kinds of characters, and I apologize for being coy here. I don’t want this website to be in worse Google searches than it already is, no thanks. It’s morally questionable, to put it politely, to frame something as kinky when it’s in fact illegal.

Cute‘s setups and juxtapositions are equally problematic, showing age play for shock value. The distant camerawork during the first half changes to something more intimate, giving Richard teary close-ups. The film then reveals an old video of men beating him up for meeting an underage girl in public. Which, sure, I don’t agree with mob justice. But how is this guy’s ex still letting him hangout with Ea is the question I have.