Carnal Knowledge is a sharp, bitter, and uncomfortable exploration of sex as power, love as confusion, and male insecurity. It strips away any romance or sentimentality, laying these themes bare without apology. Nicholson’s Jonathan is a walking wound—charismatic, cruel, and emotionally stunted. You’re not meant to like him, and you won’t. Garfunkel’s Sandy is gentler but no less lost. Both men fumble through relationships, never really seeing the women in front of them.
The film knows its men are objectifying, but it still treats women as mirrors—reflections of male desire, frustration, and ego. While it critiques the male gaze, it doesn’t entirely escape it. The women are emotionally sidelined, and the film isn’t especially interested in what they feel, only in what they represent to the men.
The minimalist style—long, quiet takes and sparse settings—heightens the emotional detachment. It often feels like a stage play, which can be both captivating and draining. Nothing is glamorised; everything is raw, awkward, and painfully human. Carnal Knowledge doesn’t follow a traditional story arc—it drifts across decades, showing the slow decay of intimacy and ideals. It’s a tough, sometimes hypnotic watch, more about absence than resolution.