The most effective part of the film is the story of a young, inexperienced soldier who spends to the night with an equally young prostitute. The soldier sits on one side of the bed while the prostitute patiently waits for him to make is move. Having only the dimmest knowledge of safe sex, the soldier show a collection of several boxes of different condoms, asking the prostitute to choose one. Briefly the soldier feels infatuated with the prostitute. For a moment, the two are like a young couple, attracted to each other but awkward in expressing mutual affection. In another scene, a popular prostitute, coming home from a tryst with a client, pays a street musician to spend the night with her, sitting together holding hands in silence.

Pleasure Factory begins with the image of another prostitute looking at fish in a pet store, and ends with her boyfriend staring at his small aquarium. I have to assume that this is Ekachai's metaphor for the people of Geylang, able to move within a limited area, but also trapped with nowhere to go, and essentially disposable. Unlike Beautiful Boxer which challenged the viewer not to feel sympathetic towards a champion Thai boxer whose goal was to live as a transgender woman, Pleasure Factory offers little that has not been expressed by others in recognizing the humanity of women who by choice or circumstance are sex workers. The effect of his newest film is that what ever potential Ekachai may have assumed his subject possessed, it is as if he discovered too late that he really had nothing to say.