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Has the Onscreen Sex Scene Gasped Its Last Climactic Breath?

Actors like Penn Badgley say they dislike sex scenes, Gen Z audiences agree. An intimacy coordinator weighs in

In February, actor Penn Badgley took to his podcast to share that he’d requested no sex scenes for his character in the fourth season of his hit Netflix show, You. Intimate scenes had been a feature of the show’s earlier seasons, and he’d done them in previous roles too.

“That aspect of Hollywood has always been very disturbing to me, and that aspect of the job, that mercurial boundary, has always been something that I actually don’t want to play with at all,” Badgley later told Variety. “It’s important to me in my real life to not have them. My fidelity in my relationship. It’s important to me. And actually, it was one of the reasons that I initially wanted to turn the role down.”

 

 
 
 
 
 
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Around the same time, a rumour emerged that the kiss between Jonah Hill and Lauren London at the end of You People—a Netflix romantic comedy that notably lacked a spark between its leads — had been faked in post-production. “The final scene, they don’t even kiss,” their co-star Andrew Schulz said on The Brilliant Idiots podcast. “It’s CGI. Swear to God.” The studio hasn’t commented, and some put it down to covid regulations limiting personal contact, but still, the Guardian called it “a strange forewarning of what stars might demand in the future.”

On the other side of the screen, viewers seem to be increasingly ambivalent about watching two colleagues get it on for the cameras. “I hate nudity in TV shows,” tweeted Gen-Z influencer Brittany Martinez. “Nothing more awkward than feeling like you walked into a room of people having sex. It never propels the story forward and it’s uncomfortable whether you’re with your parents, boyfriend, or friends.” This prompted an article in Newsweek, in which a psychiatrist linked this distaste for sex scenes to Gen-Z’s larger “fear of sex.”

A psychiatrist linked this distaste for sex scenes to Gen-Z’s larger “fear of sex.”

Post #MeToo, there is also increased awareness about how intimate scenes actually get made. Horror stories have emerged, like Emilia Clarke saying she would “cry in the bathroom” before her nude scenes for Game of Thrones, a show criticized for gratuitous sexual violence against women. Several actors from the teen drama Skins have spoken about feeling like they “weren’t protected” when filming sex scenes on the show. Last Tango In Paris star Maria Schneider said that she felt “humiliated” while filming the film’s controversial sexual assault scene.

In January, the two lead actors from late director Franco Zeffirelli’s 1968 film Romeo and Juliet launched a lawsuit against Paramount Pictures for sexual abuse, sexual harassment and fraud. Olivia Hussey and Leonard Whiting alleged they were tricked into doing a nude scene while aged 16 and 15.

Due to our obsession with youthful beauty, actors are more likely to be tapped to be nude when they’re younger. “This is part of the work they have to do, or are expected to do because of the nature of the material they’re given, and not everyone has the power of a Penn Badgley,” says Charlie Keil, a professor of cinema studies at the University of Toronto. “He’s in a position to say he doesn’t want to do that anymore, but for a young, starting actor, they don’t have the same power.”

Even when you do have power, it’s a matter of negotiation. “If you’ve watched something like Bridgerton, certain body parts are covered and others aren’t, certain actors are clothed and others aren’t,” Keil says. “Those things are clearly all being negotiated. It isn’t an accident that actor X has a private part covered while actor Y does not.”

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 This comes down to an individual’s comfort level. “There are actors who don’t have the same degree of hesitation about being uncovered,” Keil says. “If you have policies in place, and you’re making it clear to potential employees that you’re doing your best to not exploit them, that at least somewhat levels the playing field.”

Integral to this conversation is the emergence of the intimacy coordinator, a role that didn’t exist a decade ago but is now essential on any ethically minded set. “We’re creating a space where an actor can actually have a say about how their body appears on camera,” says Casey Hudecki of Intimacy Coordinators Canada, who has worked in this capacity on Sex / Life, The Boys and The Handmaid’s Tale. She started in 2019, after a career as a stunt person and body double. “Back in the day, I had to perform scenes of sexual violence and nobody explained anything to me,” says Hudecki. “There wasn’t a conversation with actors about the content of the scenes, or what exactly you’re going to be asked to do.”

Hudecki’s role involves ascertaining what might be involved in a particular intimate scene, and why it’s there. “Is this scene just there to be explicit and shocking, or is it there because this is a moment of intense vulnerability?” she says. “From there, you can have a conversation about whether that’s a story you want to tell, or ‘I find that story problematic.’”

Then it’s about digging into granular details—“I’m fine simulating this, or showing this part of my body”—to ensure that consent is given on specifics, with an exit ramp available at any point.

Intimacy coordinators ensure it’s flagged upfront if nudity or simulating a sex act is expected in a role. “It’s a conversation, scene-by-scene, and they happen in prep,” Hudecki says, noting that mismatched expectations might not be deliberately exploitative. “You read a script and it says, ‘They get it on.’ To me, that might mean a hot make out, and to someone else that means they’re completely naked having sex.” Her job is to ensure that everyone is on the same page as early as possible. “That is new,” she adds.

While intimacy coordinators don’t determine the exact content of a scene, Hudecki says she has noticed elements crop up that speak to their influence, like dialogue about consent, use of lube and condoms, or delaying the character’s orgasm.

“We want audiences to enjoy it, be rooting for it and go on an experience. That’s the whole point of it, to make you feel something.”

From her perspective, there isn’t a push for less intimacy on screen. “Even the networks of these shows are like, ‘We need more!’” she says. But as a result of these conversations, which happen away from directors and producers, many actors are actually more comfortable “giving more” to an intimate scene because they know there are pre-set limits in place. “When you have to play a scene, and you’re not sure if you’re going to advocate for yourself, or push back on this actor or this director, that’s a big barrier between you and what you’re trying to play,” Hudecki says. “We get that out of the way, so actors are more comfortable in these scenes.”

It’s also important to safeguard actors after the director calls cut. Acting is one of the few jobs where kissing a colleague is part of the job description, and Hudecki points out that the body doesn’t know the difference between a real kiss and a fake kiss. Kissing, in fact, can be more intimate than simulating sex. “It’s a mucus membrane, and you’re exchanging fluids, which we don’t allow to happen in any other action. It can confuse actors, especially young actors,” she says. “There are hormonal responses to kissing, touching and simulating sex, and part of our job is to name that, because you do get attached—that’s why showmances happen and co-stars hook-up.” She helps actors separate the personal and professional by facilitating a “mindful moment of, ‘Okay, I’m just going to remind my body we’re done shooting.’”

One misconception about intimacy coordinators is that they are there to be a censor. “I wouldn’t have a job without this sex scene, so I’m not telling you not to have it. I’m telling you to make some decisions about it,” says Hudecki. “We want audiences to enjoy it, be rooting for it and go on an experience. That’s the whole point of it, to make you feel something.” She concludes: “If that can all happen in a safe, consensual way on set where everyone is on the same page about the story we’re telling and how we’re telling it, then you don’t have to feel bad about watching it.”

Not everyone wants to, of course. Lauren Rosewarne, an associate professor at the University of Melbourne who has studied depictions of sexuality on screen, has seen some examples of “audiences claiming that they’ve not consented—as viewers—to be exposed to such scenes and therefore they shouldn’t be included.” But she points out that what we see on our screens now is “mostly tamer” than, say, in the 1970s. “Part of this is because film and television is no longer the place audiences have to go for erotic content. We’re all a couple of clicks away from substantially more explicit material,” she says. “While there will likely always be a place for shows like Bridgerton, on the whole if you were seeking erotic material you would always be underwhelmed by such a production.”

Rosewarne suggests that some film or shows may use technology such as AI if actors are unwilling to participate in sex scenes, but finds the idea that onscreen intimacy will ever go away a “pretty ridiculous” notion. “Film and television exist to tell stories and stories often involve things such as love or lust or recreational affection,” she says. “So long as those things exist in real life, we’re going to see them depicted on screen.”

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