This Sexy New FX Series Has a 96 Percent Rotten Tomatoes Score, but It Leaves Me Frustrated

What’s a woman got to do to get off around here?

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Published Apr 11, 2025

Dying for Sex review: Michelle Williams with IV

Powerful women actors (Michelle Williams, Jenny Slate, Sissy Spacek)! So many interesting, hot sex scenes (light BDSM, role play, multi-play)! A life-or-death premise worthy of a classic Hollywood film (a dying woman’s final wish)! With all this sizzling potential, why does FX’s new comic drama limited series Dying for Sex leave me simmering with dissatisfaction? Here’s why. While viewers and reviewers are seeing this based-on-a-true story tale as chronicling one woman’s celebration of life force, I’m seeing another narrative altogether: In today’s culture, a woman has to be dying (and a victim) in order to merit satisfying sex.

In the series, we’re introduced to 40-ish urbanites Molly and Steve, played by Michelle Williams and Jay Duplass, in the middle of a session with their marriage counselor. Steve is tone deaf as he details his experience as his wife’s cancer caretaker (she’s in remission) and Molly is outwardly passive (thank heavens for the voiceover revealing her sourly funny inner monologue). The two are relatable, familiar to anyone in a longtime intimacy gone stale. They’re discussing their nonexistent sex life when Molly takes a call from her oncologist—it seems her breast cancer, previously arrested, has recurred and metastasized to her bones. She’s just got a death sentence, which she blurts out to her husband and therapist, before fleeing to a Brooklyn corner shop where she calls her best friend Nikki, played by the effervescent Jenny Slate. Nikki listens, reacts and connects with her friend in a nuanced and authentic acceptance that sharply contrasts with the couples’ counseling session.

A strong start! As Molly spends the day with Nikki, we watch as she takes account of her life, focusing on how she’s never had an orgasm with another person. Like, not just with her longtime husband, but in her whole life. She tries sex with her husband, he dissolves into tears and she realizes this is never going to work—so she undertakes a sexual exploration, even if it’s going to kill her (something about being immunocompromised, according to her befuddled husband).

And, she’s off…as are we the viewers, following along as she swaps out hubby for Nikki as her cancer caretaker. Molly meets magical lesbian palliative care specialist Sonya (Esco Jouléy) in whom she confides her orgasm wish. Sonya just happens to be a devotee of sex parties, does Molly want to join? And just like that, Molly’s got entrée into two new subcultures: stage 4 cancer patients and kink. Guess which one is more fun.

Dying-for-Sex-review-jenny-slate-michelle-williams-hugging

Look, I’m rooting for this show. So much of it is accurate: the time-stands-still quality of oncologist waiting rooms, the ‘I’d rather spend time with my bestie than anyone else’ mindset, the fascination of non-vanilla sex communities. However, an underlying of the premise of the show continues to rankle: Molly only “gets to” prioritize and explore her sexual satisfaction as a last resort. Since she’s dying—as well as revealed to be a childhood sexual assault survivor—we the viewer are sympathetic to her leaving her marriage and chasing her orgasm—let’s call it her Big White O. She’s broken, so of course the viewer wants her to get some satisfaction.

But what was going on with Molly in the years before her fatal diagnosis, when her world was meh sex and married loneliness? Well, no one wants to watch a woman reject that, do we? That experience is just the everyday, or whatever. According to studies, 32 percent of women (compared with 82 percent of men) experience orgasm…the so-called orgasm gap. Which is actually quite sad, but gets buried in the popular discourse about women’s health and wellness. But it should be prioritized. Women’s sexual satisfaction within a relationship is so often culturally signaled as...(just riffing here)...a shameful indulgence, a means to an end or a marital duty. But life-expanding intimacy for its own sake? That’s not thought of as very important. So, getting back to Dying for Sex, I’m not thrilled about the passivity that Molly displays around her sexuality before she knows she’s going to die. And I’m not pleased that she compartmentalizes her childhood abuse, without exploring how it impacts her adult sexuality.

What’s most frustrating to me, watching this show, is the image of viewers watching Molly in her hero’s journey to orgasm (I’m thinking Athena, holding a dom’s paddle instead of a sword over her head) and thinking, well that’s all well and good for her, she’s a dying and wounded person. She deserves a bucket list treat! Instead, I wish the show messaged another takeaway: Sexual pleasure—real satisfaction that might take some agency, as well as piss some people off if they get left or hurt or aren’t down—is a life essential for everyone no matter their gender or what desires they have. It’s also a responsibility, and one that I hope we all take seriously. I mean, in a sense we’re all Molly right? So let’s get as well as give orgasms…the more, the sooner, the better.

Dana Dickey

Senior Editor

Writes about fashion, wellness, relationships and travel
Oversees all LA/California content and is the go-to source for where to eat, stay and unwind on the west coast
Studied journalism at the University of Florida

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This Sexy New FX Series Has a 96 Percent Rotten Tomatoes Score, but It Leaves Me Frustrated

What’s a woman got to do to get off around here?

Senior Editor

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