What do you do when you’ve worked your entire life toward one goal, only to have it taken away by a freak injury? Porn, apparently. I say this with some levity, but this was the reality for Andrea Absolonová (Natalia Germani), a Czech diver poised to represent her country in the 1996 Summer Olympics before a tragic accident shattered her dreams—and her spine. Director Natálie Císarovská’s Her Body delves into Absolonová’s eventful life, going further than most films dare. But does her unique story make for a compelling movie? One’s mileage will vary.
The film begins with Andrea earning a spot at the Olympics in Atlanta, making her family proud. She lives with her sister and best friend, Lucie (Denisa Barešová), and the two share a close bond. However, Andrea’s flirtation with a sketchy photographer causes tension between them, as Lucie questions Andrea’s personal choices. After all, Andrea is supposed to be focused on preparing for the Olympics, not posing for photos. This desire to be in the spotlight feels like a harbinger of what’s to come.
After a spinal injury ends her diving career, Andrea embarks on a long and difficult recovery, prompting deep soul-searching. The photographer she’s dating, it turns out, works in the adult film industry. Through him, she finds an entry into the field as an actor. Young and in peak physical shape, her career quickly takes off—much to the dismay of everyone close to her, except for her mother, Matka (Zuzana Mauréry). Disturbingly, Matka seems seduced by Andrea’s newfound wealth and the luxurious gifts Andrea gives her. Fast forward a few years, and Andrea—now performing under the stage name Lea De Mae—has become the biggest adult film star in the Czech Republic.
“What do you do when you’ve worked your entire life toward one goal? “
Natalia Germani deserves credit for her fearless commitment to the role. Let’s be honest—few actresses today would jump at the chance to play a porn star. The truth of Absolonová’s story brings a certain pathos to Her Body, but the film’s timing works against it. In many ways, it feels like a lighter, less daring counterpart to 2021’s Pleasure, a Swedish film that tackled similar subject matter with far more edge. While Her Body is polished and competently made, it lacks the visceral punch of Pleasure and comes off as perfunctory in comparison.
I’m no insider when it comes to the adult film industry, but Her Body portrays it much as other films have: sleazy, shallow, and filled with people who outwardly seem happy but are likely dealing with inner turmoil. I do credit Císarovská, however, for not imposing a predictable, “Come to Jesus” moment on Andrea. She never explicitly voices dissatisfaction with her choices, though her detached demeanor says plenty. This isn’t a happy story, and Andrea doesn’t get to ride off into the sunset, but Císarovská and company thankfully avoid being preachy or overly moralizing.
Does the movie sometimes feel like Císarovská is running through the Wikipedia entry on Andrea Absolonová? Absolutely. Yet, there’s something refreshing about a biopic that isn’t about a hero. Sometimes, the stories of people who almost made it are the most compelling of all.
"…Sometimes, the stories of people who almost made it are the most compelling of all"
