RATING: 3.5/ 5
This article contains spoilers for the film Modern Whore.
Modern Whore dives into the story of a delusional Toronto sex worker who is confused on reconciling the shame of getting paid to give blowjobs.
Modern Whore follows main character Andrea Werhun’s memoir published in 2017, chronicling awkward bits, excitement, and comradery of being an escort, stripper, and go-go dancer in Toronto.
Directed by Nicole Bazuin, the beginning of the movie depicts Werhun writing her own story on her laptop, peeking into Werhun’s fascination with self expression through sexuality and sensuality despite being a child of a devout Catholic mother.
The film then follows Werhun, an English literature and religion student at University of Toronto at the time, who found sex work after realizing she could make $700 in one night as an escort compared to her minimum wage cafe gig.
Werhun’s first alter ego was named Mary Ann. (provided to her by a married couple who hooked up escorts with clients), reminiscent of the Virgin Mary, and to what Werhun deemed as a hallmark moment of losing her “whore virginity.”
In the first quarter of the film, there’s a cartoon drawing of two bodies that I think symbolize Werhun’s desire to explore and learn about the world, but also her grounded self that knows who she truly is.
The moment before Werhun embarks on her first escort escapade, this cartoon body hugs the smaller one tightly and lets her go, as if she’s reminding herself she can come back to her centre any time she strays too far.
It’s a cute graphic to symbolize Werhurn’s desire to venture beyond what she’s known, but it’s also overly optimistic of what she expects the world of whoring is supposed to look like.
After her first full service, Werhurn felt “excited” about this “secret whoring.”
The first half of the movie shows Werhun costumed in a pink latex dress and dolled up makeup resembling a sex barbie getting her reps in from client to client.
The crowd laughed and gawked at the types of clients Werhun showed us: creepy men that doted on her as the only woman who truly understands them, men that were determined to believe she was a traumatized child destined to live as a slut for the rest of her life, and men that hate prostitution yet engage in it the most.
These real life scenes were awakening because I felt like I could imagine myself there.
Werhurn shared some vulnerable moments that downed her naivety yet upped our empathy as an audience, like when a client offered to “pay” her to write instead of just having sex, or her inheriting STIs like chlamydia and ghonnerea, and dealing with blacklisted clients who forced their member inside her.
At the strip club, Mary Ann transformed into Sophia, which again had a religious undertone as the divine feminine, according to Werhurn. I wish there was more explanation for this symbolism because it was scattered throughout, which just made it seem like she was running away from herself instead of contributing more depth to the story.
At the club, Werhurn would receive foot rubs for being a good listener or keeping it light and fun while barely dressed in lacy lingerie, yet angered when clients would ask if she was raped or touched before. These scenes showed the tension of Werhun enjoying the fun parts, while refusing to accept the not-so-fun.
There’s not much awareness about this tension and it’s brushed off as if it’s the clients’ faults in the film. I feel like this adds to the film’s one-sided vibe that sex work shouldn’t be the current reality it is without acknowledging it’s ultimately a personal choice to participate in it.
As we indulged in the types of men Werhun encountered around the GTA, some of them were common moments shared by other sex workers that willingly volunteered to be part of the film.
In between these encounters, Bazuin set a scene of various sex workers, Only Fans girls, and camgirls debriefing about their experiences with clients circled around a dinner table decorated with a lush fruit spread.
I appreciated the diversity of the sex worker interviewees: diverse body shapes, mixed races, disabled, and neurodivergent. I also appreciated their honest opinions about the kind of work they do, admitting to curating themselves to the male gaze while not associating any of their self worth with being naked on the internet, yet worried about the consequences of doing so.
Some also said they engage in sex work to supplement their true love for art or music.
I could tell the film raised some awareness of the multiple realities of sex workers in the GTA. In fact, after the film, a social worker sitting next to me asked about how certain regulations would be helpful to reduce the drug and alcohol associations of the business.
In the film, Werhun admitted to consuming up to 12 drinks a night and regularly snorting cocaine, leading her to suffer a traumatic brain injury and frequent seizures.
In the Q&A portion after the film also directly asked Werhun what the role of money played in Modern Whore, to which she responded with, “Money is really important in a capitalist society. We have to negotiate our survival.”
However, the film only hinted at an obsession with money. As a documentary, it didn’t really detail how sex workers view money, which I thought was a major component missing, especially for a film that’s meant to promote legalization.
More than money, a recurring theme was shame in the form of a hillbilly creep played by Werhun herself that wouldn’t cease to leave her alone. Shame, created by Werhun’s somewhat religious upbringing and desire to be a writer, yet lacking confidence to do so.
However, Wethun describes her experience with shame as a sex worker as “internalized whorephobia.” Throughout the whole film, Werhun breaks the 4th wall with interviews where she’s basically academically analyzing herself while self-narrating her sexual experiences.
The film also includes interviews with Werhun’s mother and long-term boyfriend, who have both been on board with her sex life stories. These moments definitely humanized Werhun as a person who actually has solid relationships and isn’t just a sex crazed spirit hungry for her next romp.
Although the film steers away from portraying sex workers as victims or begging for public pity, it does feel a bit like a social campaign to legalize the industry, which Werhun does hope is a result of the movie.
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