Bel Gatti’s debut feature is born from an intimate and urgent impulse: to transform a personal struggle that had accompanied her for years into a cinematic work. What could have remained a therapy-room confession becomes a free, experimental biodrama in which the director and protagonist steps in front of the camera to explore her own vulnerability. Filmed almost entirely in selfie mode, with the freshness and immediacy of a home recording, the film moves between the confessional and the performative, between the rawness of an uncomfortable truth and the creative play that makes it livable. In this way, Gatti turns her daily life as an actress, playwright, and nanny into narrative material, opening questions about desire, fiction, and the ways we tell ourselves our own stories.

In this unfiltered self-portrait, relationships take center stage: her bond with Juana, the child she looks after, serves as a reminder that contact and tenderness are not always tied to sexuality, while her complicity with her mother opens a space for dialogue on topics that are often taboo. Between conversations, games, reflections, and absurd moments, Gatti builds a narrative infused with the aesthetics of social media, incorporating stickers, on-screen text, and spontaneous images that reinforce the feeling of witnessing an audiovisual diary. Far from seeking formal perfection, the project embraces imperfection as part of its identity, preserving the order and marks of the actual shoot, without unnecessary polish or artifice.

Rather than telling a closed-off story, the film proposes an open-ended process of exploration, where “I can’t” becomes a territory from which to think about desire in all its layers—physical, emotional, and cultural. I Can’t Have Sex does not aim to offer solutions or please everyone; instead, it shares an honest journey that dares to place front and center what is usually kept hidden. In this mix of fragility and humor, confession and parody, Gatti delivers a profoundly personal work that, while unapologetically self-referential, engages with a time in which intimacy is constantly exposed and reinterpreted. The result is a debut feature whose strength lies in the authenticity and creative freedom with which it was conceived.