What the anxious hero of my documentary can teach us all about happiness

CBC

05-05-2025

Cutaways is a personal essay series where Canadian filmmakers tell the story of how their film was made. This Hot Docs 2025 edition by director Denis Côté focuses on his film Paul.
I used to see someone who would occasionally and impulsively call a certain "Paul." She was tired, she'd say, and needed a lift home.
I raised an eyebrow for sure.
This car ride to get her home was repeated until I asked the obvious question: who could this man be? She explained that, as a "simp," Paul offered her this service; his sole purpose being not only to help out but also to serve, since women deserve, in his eyes, every attention and every possible comfort.
I learned that simps like Paul devote a large part of their time to serving women while asking for very little, if not nothing, in return. And as a filmmaker, I saw a fascinating territory to explore. But what kind of opportunity would it be?
The film project itself was dangerous. Could I avoid voyeurism, sensationalism and the exploitative gaze while exploring Paul's rituals of power and consent in surprising BDSM dynamics? Yet, somehow, the challenge and risk of failure were exciting to me. The idea of making a patient observational documentary — similar to what I had achieved with my six bodybuilders in 2016 in the film A Skin So Soft — was also appealing.
Shy, secretive and discreet, but possibly fascinated by the idea of one day seeing a documentary about himself, Paul agreed to meet me. I quickly came to know a man who was anxious and fearful, constantly searching for safe spaces, yet also very intelligent and able to put his past and present life journey into words.
Throughout our meetings and the filming process, and even after editing this film, some of his intentions, actions and sense of intimacy remained in the dark — or at least a grey area — for me. The film cannot claim to understand everything about Paul. But with a no-budget approach and a crew of two, I tried to get a grasp of his colourful journey over the course of a seven-month shoot.
Also invited into the project was a very contemporary reality: the strong desire to exist via social media, an addictive and obsessive world — mouldable and controllable. Paul and several of his dommes are keenly aware of the image they maintain on Instagram. Maybe it's because I'm from another generation, but I was really surprised to see the extent to which the real world only seems to exist to them within the virtual one! Paul creates a kind of perfect prison for himself where he feels complete, free and safe. By the same token, reality bores him and usually stresses him out.
In love with the world of Alice in Wonderland, obsessed with the idea of making every corner of his apartment magical, excited by his friendships with dommes, haunted by his number of followers on Instagram — Paul lives in a candid if somewhat manufactured world. It was important for me to offer him a benevolent film, sometimes strange but never pitying or hyperbolic. I wanted a nervous and loving camera, always fixed on the slightest reactions of a character with buried and locked emotions.
It wasn't always easy. Paul isn't extraverted, he doesn't spend much time with men, and it was hard to suss out whether he was truly interested in the project. He often seemed to be asking why me? I had to convince him that it would make for a nice film exploration on themes like anxiety, loneliness and self-validation.
I'm very proud of what we did. I think we managed to achieve a good level of authenticity. Yet I was scared to show Paul the film, and worried that he would demand edits or additions. He was a bundle of nerves before our private screening, but he gave me a heartfelt "thank you" afterward and said that it "really covered every aspect of his life." We were both very relieved.
While making this film, the dommes all understood that we were doing this for Paul, to help him and validate him, not to focus on these women's lives and motivations. Some are involved in the BDSM lifestyle and community, but I didn't want to make a documentary about that already visible and meta-visible topic, with all the usual sensationalistic clichés.
Instead, I wanted to make a delicate and very intimate film, without judgment — as fluid and enigmatic as Paul's uncertain quest.