As the topic of sex becomes less culturally taboo, sex scenes are coming to reflect important and decisive changes in the attitudes of society. Driven by the demystification of the sex symbol, sex scenes today embody a deeper understanding of sex and gender, becoming less about excitement and more about its possibilities as a form of character-expression.
Sex Symbols Throughout History
The creative ideas that drive sex scenes—like everything else in cinema—comes down to a filmmaker’s intent. Following the wave of 90s erotic thrillers, many want to depict sex as dangerous and intriguing, whilst others want to show sex at its most glamorous and idealistic. It is not a decrease in sex scenes that audiences often clamour for, but rather a desire to make them safer for all those involved. This is a logical argument, as sex scenes—when handled well—can show a character at their most raw and revealed.
There is a long and unfortunate history however of women being taken advantage of in film, notably Last Tango in Paris (1973), in which Maria Schnieder took part in scenes that were not originally in the script, and was reportedly pressured by Marlon Brando. There is a lot of merit in the argument to make sex scenes safer. Not only does it make it more comforting for actors, but also helps build better chemistry and ultimately makes for a better scene.
A recent title that went underappreciated was Good Luck to You, Leo Grande (2022), a film about an ageing woman (Emma Thompson), who feels that she has not yet fully explored herself sexually, consequently hiring a male escort played by Daryl McCormack. Not only does this make for refreshing viewing, but its portrayal of sexual positivity and open communication between partners is exactly how sex should be treated in film. Whilst erotic thrillers of the 1990s, such as Basic Instinct (1992), did not exactly set out to depict sex in the most healthy of ways, there can be no doubt that these films betray a positive image of sex.
Another factor that many cite for the demystification of the sex symbol is generational taste. The aforementioned erotic thriller has died a terrible death. For example, see the critically panned Deep Water (2022) starring Ben Affleck and Ana de Armas. There have been few attempts to revive the erotic thriller, and in many ways Deep Water’s failure to do so has something to do with the time in which it was released. Affleck and de Armas had been in a relationship that had ended by the time the film was released, leading to a lack of press attention and the film being thrown onto Amazon Prime to fade into obscurity.
With our current access to celebrity’s personal lives, the notion of the moviestar has been demystified. As we know more about actor’s lives, a greater sense of knowing is created. When we come to see actors as less an idealised figure and more a real human being with thoughts and emotions, the things they do on screen—including sex—become less idealised too. This leads to a demystification of not only the actor performing the sex scene, but the entire nature of the sex scene itself.
The generational angle limits sex scenes in their ability to grow in response to the cultural moment they come from. Because sex was seen for such a long time as something too scandalous to be properly showcased, each generation has grown up expecting a little bit more in tandem with shifting cultural norms. Sex scenes have therefore acted as a cinematic Russian doll of sorts, only revealing itself bit by bit to each generation.
The way that someone perceives sex on screen will consequently be vastly different from someone else in accordance with the generation they were born into. A lack of broader reflection from generation to generation has been built into the understanding of sex’s depictions on the silver screen. This does not mean that people cannot change their opinion, but it does mean that it can be very hard to acclimatise to another generation’s perspective.
Sex is a highly personal thing, and for many their first real encounter with sex will be through film or TV. The first portrayal someone sees of sex will hardly be the only one they will ever see, but generationally speaking, it can lead to a muddled view of sex symbols in cinema. It does not advance a textured interpretation of sex symbols because their first, and most powerful, impression might struggle to be altered for the better. Each generation has responded differently to the sex scene, and thus the act of performing it will be forever transfixed in accordance with that initial interpretation.
This phenomenon has hindered our ability to understand what the sex scene truly means to each generation, as for the most part, a sex symbol is only allowed to represent what that generation thinks sex scenes look like. For example, the 1950s sex symbol remains rigid due to the prevailing gender roles of the period, whereas a 1960s sex symbol has more sexual fluidity that was born out of the sexual revolution. For many decades now, the sex symbol has been almost frozen in time, placed on a seemingly immovable pedestal. Now, this pedestal is being moved—if not completely displaced.
A Sex-positive Representation
Our current generation, gen z, is far more knowledgeable in its sexual vocabulary. Even if this vocabulary will rightfully never stop expanding, we are now more aware than ever about different sexualities and interpretations of sex. With this comes a general acceptance that the sex scenes of the past are too narrow and too rigid in their portrayals. Newsweek reports that gen-z are becoming more attuned to potential issues with ‘creepiness’ in sex scenes. This argument outlines that, so long as people have a positive image of sex, they will naturally look to shun sex scenes that do not reflect the more positive interpretation of sex that prevails today.
Whilst this argument is a tad reactionary, it is true that our culture has become more comfortable with calling out filmmakers who do not depict sex in a productive way. Indeed, outdated sexual proclivities in mainstream films still appear to be with us. Many subscribe to the view that Quentin Tarantino shoe-horns feet into his movies as a consequence of a personal foot fetish, morphing into a weird inside joke that even he seems to wink at in his recent releases.
As a result, the landscape of sex scenes in film has never been more complicated. On the one hand is the rise in sexual positivity, and on the other is what some would deem the old-fashioned and outdated way of depicting sex, one that pays more attention to a naked woman than to a man. In the midst of all of this, however, is this generation’s own sex symbols that are beginning to reveal themselves in tandem with the burgeoning of new generational talent. Names like Paul Mescal, Florence Pugh, and Zendaya Coleman have all made a name for themselves as serious actors in a very short time, and are all seen as sex symbols by this generation.
The idea of sex symbols is as archaic as their prevalence in film, but this generation of names represents a chance to change how sex symbols are viewed, and in turn, how sex scenes can reflect the ever-changing way we view sexuality and gender.
An End To The Mythic Sex Symbol
One thing that links this generation of sex symbols is their status in the zeitgeist. These sex symbols are not revered in the same way that the sex symbols of old were. Old sex symbols were seen as classically sexy, held on an untouchably attractive pedestal and seen as the standard for their respective gender. Now however, sex symbols occupy a less gendered role.
Increased sexual fluidity has heralded a range of new age symbols that do not conform to the cliché ideals of male and female beauty. They are no longer seen as purely mythic figures out of reach, but genuine people that we want to get to know. The sex symbol, along with the movie star, has been humanised, and the greater media roles they play compared to the 1980s has brought the Hollywood sex symbol out of its rigid beginnings.
Even the term sex symbol is losing its cultural validity for how A-list actors are being represented in film. They are no longer simply femme fatales or bad boys, but are taken seriously as human actors. Because of our unbridled access to actors’ social lives, the sex symbol has come to represent something refreshing and genuine, rather than something that is solely fetishized. Sex scenes have consequently become more celebrated in their honesty and difficulty.
This has resulted in a greater push for better sex scenes in film. Sex symbols are not mythic figures, and as such they are no longer being treated as such. With the modern emphasis on understanding the psychology behind characters, sex scenes have come to reflect this deeper, more human angle for those acting within them. This is obviously not the case across the board; there is still sexiness to be found in cinema that harkens back to the likes of Sharon Stone’s infamous leg uncrossing, but it nevertheless feels like sex symbols are more aware than ever of the damaging effect these titles can wield. For the type of roles that these new actors get the pick of, taking on the deeply-flawed roles of people like Rue in Euphoria, sex is now more about how sex affects the characters who partake in it. The tide of dramatic cinema has shifted, and sex scenes are reflecting this change.
A Changing Dramatic Cinema
The style of cinema will always change to meet the cultural moment. With our new-found understanding of ourselves and a push for boundaries surrounding sex and gender to be widened, more and more we want to understand ourselves through sexual expression. Florence Pugh’s sex scenes in Oppenheimer (2023) carry a darkly psychological angle that impacts her mental state, and Nolan shoots them in ways that highlight the darker side of infatuation. Timothée Chalamet in Call Me by Your Name (2017) engages in sex that is driven by character too. The scenes are shot passively, not gunning for sexiness. Chalamet’s infamous peach scene is shown to be awkward and slow, hardly sexy in any way. Sex in modern movies feels more realistic in its awkwardness, and the actors that occupy the dwindling title of ‘sex symbol’ are more recognisable.
This ultimately means that character-driven sex scenes are increasing in popularity. On both sides of the debate surrounding sex in film is a core desire to see sex portrayed as how we want to think of it. The side pushing for safer sex scenes is pushing for the entertainment we consume to feel like a safer place. Those who think of sex scenes as a generational thing—that different portrayals of sex scenes throughout cinema cannot cross paths—are ultimately arguing for a cinematic canon that does not speak to itself, that an evolution in how we view sex can never fully be realised because it is too much of a rigid thing. In both of these cases, I do not think that either fully allow for the possibilities of sex scenes to ever be fully imagined.
Whilst I see the drawbacks of both arguments, I do believe that this generation of sex symbols—even if you cannot really call them that—are leading a new generation of cinema that is taking us out of sexiness for sexiness’ sake. They are asking how we can advance our preconceived notions to understand not just sex, but how we relate to its cinematic depictions, with a freer interpretation of its psychological positives and negatives.
Words by James Evenden
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