Cheeky (Trasgredire, 2000), the film orbits around the effortlessly magnetic presence of its lead character, Carla—played with playful boldness by Yuliya Mayarchuk. Carla is the heart and heat of the story, a young Italian woman in London whose open embrace of her sexuality becomes both a narrative engine and a visual celebration. She exudes a radiant kind of sensuality, the kind that feels spontaneous, confident, and entirely unashamed.
Carla’s charm is as much in her spirit as in her body. She’s vivacious and free, with a teasing smile and a natural flirtation in every movement. The camera adores her, but more importantly, she knows it adores her—and she returns its gaze with mischievous awareness. Whether strolling along the Thames in a miniskirt or lounging nude in her apartment, Carla owns her presence completely, turning everyday moments into scenes charged with eroticism and lighthearted energy.
Unlike the tortured or conflicted heroines often found in stories of sexual discovery, Carla is never ashamed. Her sexuality isn’t something she wrestles with—it’s something she revels in. She explores her desires with curiosity and openness, unbound by guilt or fear. That confidence is seductive in itself, creating a character who is not only beautiful to look at but also liberating to watch. She invites both her lovers and the audience into her world with a wink, not a plea.
In Cheeky, Carla becomes more than just a symbol of desire—she represents a philosophy of living freely, of owning pleasure without apology. She is cheeky, yes—but also tender, daring, and luminously alive. It’s her joy, her curiosity, and her refusal to be contained that make her such an unforgettable figure in erotic cinema.
