Summarize this content to 2000 words in 6 paragraphs in Arabic Unlock the Editor’s Digest for freeRoula Khalaf, Editor of the FT, selects her favourite stories in this weekly newsletter.When 40-year-old Molly is informed that her cancer has returned, her overriding emotion is not shock, despair or even acceptance, but intense sexual frustration. It has been three years since her first diagnosis and three years since her husband, Steve, last touched her. “My priority right now is keeping you alive for as long as possible,” he tells her, as a doctor might try to reassure a patient. But what Molly wants is someone to make her feel alive. And so, with five years to live, she leaves the man who has always supported but never satisfied her.Dying for Sex, a funny, poignant comedy-drama, follows Molly on her personal mission to experience la petite mort before the big sleep. The latest in a recent string of films and shows about mid-life erotic awakenings, the eight-part series stands out within the growing sub-genre. Firstly, this one doesn’t feature Nicole Kidman, but an excellent, uninhibited Michelle Williams. More significantly, the story it tells is no lusty fantasy. Instead, it is a wry, often raw account of the complexity of desire and messiness of dying inspired by the experiences of a real woman, Molly Kochan — subject of a hit podcast of the same name by her friend Nikki Boyer (played here by Jenny Slate).The show is largely set between the hospital and the bedroom. While the former makes Molly feel helpless, the latter becomes a place where she takes ownership and control. Not only of her own sexuality, but of the men who submit to her. Among them are a city trader with a fetish for humiliation and a schlubby neighbour (Rob Delaney) who simultaneously repulses and arouses Molly. Before long, their heated arguments over hallway rubbish evolve into an S&M dynamic. It would be disingenuous to say that the show isn’t really about sex given the number of scenes that would make the FT’s pink pages turn beet red. But what Molly finds in her role-playing is not just instant gratification, but a broader sense of who she is. While her husband (Jay Duplass) has already started mourning her, her sexual encounters reaffirm her existence. A sex party becomes a gateway into a community; a request to be kicked in the crotch, a strange but sincere expression of tenderness.Where it so easily could have been crass, the series revels in the absurdity of sex. Yet it is never blithe about the painful elements of the story: Molly’s childhood trauma, her strained relationship with her self-absorbed mother (Sissy Spacek), the unavoidable confrontations with her mortality. Williams stirringly embodies both Molly’s sense of liberation and her regrets about a life she fears was squandered. Slate too impresses as she captures the emotional exhaustion that comes from being both Molly’s breezy best friend and carer. In fact, there are great performances throughout the series — from Esco Jouléy’s empathetic therapist to David Rasche’s awkward oncologist. Not from Molly herself, however. For the first time in her life, she no longer has to fake it.★★★★☆On Disney+ from April 4 in the UK and on Hulu in the US
