Movies are weird. Sometimes, a tiny, three-minute sequence in an indie film from the mid-nineties stays lodged in the collective brain of a generation longer than any billion-dollar blockbuster ever could. We’re talking about the now and later sex scene from the 1995 film Kids. It is raw. It is deeply uncomfortable. Honestly, if you watched it today without context, you’d probably wonder how it even got made.
But it did get made.
Larry Clark, a photographer known for documenting the gritty, unpolished lives of skaters and street kids, directed it. Harmony Korine wrote the script when he was just nineteen. Together, they created a movie that felt less like a Hollywood production and more like a car crash you couldn't look away from. The now and later sex scene—featuring the characters Telly and Darcy—is basically the dark heart of the film. It isn’t about romance. It isn't even really about pleasure. It’s about power, apathy, and the terrifying naivety of youth in an era where the stakes were literally life and death.
What Actually Happens in the Scene?
Let’s get the details straight because people often misremember the specifics. Telly, played by Leo Fitzpatrick, is a "virgin hunter." That’s his whole identity. He’s obsessed with finding girls who haven't had sex because he believes they are "clean." It’s predatory. It’s gross. And the scene with Darcy (Sanya Guevara) is the culmination of that obsession.
The "Now and Later" part comes from the candy. Telly is eating those chewy, square candies while they are in bed. It’s a small, almost throwaway detail that makes the whole thing feel more authentic and more repulsive at the same time. He’s casual. He’s bored. While Darcy is experiencing something monumental and life-changing, Telly is just... snacking.
The camerawork is tight. It’s claustrophobic. Clark used natural lighting and handheld cameras to make it feel like you were peeping through a keyhole. There’s no swelling orchestra. No soft focus. Just the sound of heavy breathing, the rustle of sheets, and the crinkle of a candy wrapper. It captured a specific kind of teenage nihilism that defined the mid-90s New York City skate scene.
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Why the Now and Later Sex Scene Caused a Massive Scandal
When Kids premiered at Sundance and then Cannes, it caused a total meltdown. Critics didn't know what to do with it. Was it art? Was it child pornography? (The actors were young, though mostly legal adults or very close to it during filming). The now and later sex scene was the lightning rod for the NC-17 rating the film originally received.
Miramax, then owned by Disney, couldn't release an NC-17 movie. It was a corporate nightmare. To get around it, Harvey and Bob Weinstein had to create an entirely new, independent company called Shining Excalibur Films just to put the movie in theaters.
- The Shock Factor: In 1995, nobody was showing sex this way. It wasn't "sexy." It was grimey.
- The HIV/AIDS Context: You have to remember that this movie takes place at the height of the AIDS crisis. The "now and later" candy isn't the only thing Telly is sharing; he’s a carrier who doesn't care. That adds a layer of horror to the scene that makes it hard to watch today.
- The Ethics of Casting: Many of the kids in the film were actual skaters from Washington Square Park. They weren't trained actors. This blurred the lines between fiction and reality in a way that made audiences deeply defensive.
The Cultural Legacy of Larry Clark's Vision
If you look at modern shows like Euphoria, you can see the DNA of the now and later sex scene everywhere. Sam Levinson clearly took notes from Larry Clark’s playbook. The idea of showing teenagers as messy, sexual, drug-using humans rather than the sanitized versions seen in Saved by the Bell started right here.
But there’s a nuance here that often gets lost. Kids wasn't trying to be "cool." It was a warning. Chloe Sevigny, who made her debut in the film, has spoken extensively about how the movie reflected the actual dangers they were facing. The scene in the bedroom wasn't meant to be erotic; it was meant to show the vacancy of Telly’s soul. He’s consuming Darcy just like he’s consuming that candy. Once the flavor is gone, he’s onto the next pack.
It Wasn't Just About the Shock
Some people argue the film is exploitative. They aren't necessarily wrong. Larry Clark’s career has always walked a razor-thin line between documentary and voyeurism. However, the now and later sex scene serves a narrative purpose. It establishes the "Ground Zero" of the film's tragedy. Without that scene, the ending—where Telly wakes up and utters the infamous line "Jesus Christ, what happened?"—doesn't hit nearly as hard.
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Fact-Checking the "Realism"
Was the scene scripted? Mostly. But Korine and Clark encouraged improvisation. They wanted the dialogue to sound like the way kids actually talked in 1994. The slang, the cadence, the awkward pauses—it was all meticulously designed to feel unscripted.
A common misconception is that the actors were actually having sex. They weren't. It was simulated, though very convincingly. Leo Fitzpatrick has mentioned in interviews over the years that filming those scenes was incredibly awkward and difficult. He was a kid who just liked to skate, and suddenly he was the face of the most controversial character in America.
The candy itself became a weird cult symbol. For years after the movie came out, "Now and Laters" were synonymous with the film. It’s a strange bit of product placement that the candy company definitely didn't ask for.
How to Approach the Film Today
If you're going back to watch the now and later sex scene or the movie as a whole, you need a different lens than people had in the 90s. We live in a post-Internet, hyper-aware world now.
First, acknowledge the power dynamics. The film is a brutal look at toxic masculinity before we had a common term for it. Telly is a predator, plain and simple. Watching the scene through that lens makes it a horror sequence rather than a coming-of-age moment.
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Second, look at the craft. Regardless of how you feel about the content, the cinematography by Eric Alan Edwards is top-tier. He managed to capture the grit of New York City in a way that feels like a time capsule. The sweat, the dirt under the fingernails, the peeling wallpaper—it’s all there.
Actionable Takeaways for Film Buffs and Students
If you’re studying this film or just curious about its impact, here is how to process it:
- Watch the Documentary 'The Kids': Released recently, this doc features the original cast members talking about the fallout of the film. It provides essential context on who was exploited and who benefited.
- Compare to 'Gummo': If you want to see where Harmony Korine went next, watch Gummo. It takes the discomfort of the Kids era and turns it up to eleven, moving from the city to the rural midwest.
- Research the NC-17 History: Look into how the MPAA handled films in the 90s. The battle over the now and later sex scene helped define the "X" vs "NC-17" debate that still affects indie filmmakers today.
- Listen to the Soundtrack: Lou Barlow and Folk Implosion created a vibe that is inseparable from the visuals. The music is often what makes the uncomfortable scenes bearable.
The now and later sex scene isn't "fun" to watch. It shouldn't be. It remains a stark, polarizing piece of cinema history that forced a conversation about youth, consent, and the reality of the streets that many people wanted to ignore. Whether you view it as a masterpiece of realism or a piece of exploitation, its influence on the "teen grit" genre is undeniable. It changed the way movies look at the transition from childhood to adulthood, stripping away the glitter and leaving only the raw, chewy, and often bitter reality.
To understand the film, you have to understand that it was made by people who were actually there. They weren't outsiders looking in; they were the kids on the boards, in the parks, and in the house parties. That authenticity is why, thirty years later, we are still talking about a boy, a girl, and a piece of candy in a cramped New York apartment.