Reader, if you are prudish you should probably close this window down now and wait for my next entry. Why? Because this blog is about SEXING! Specifically sexing in films and things. Not me sexing. Because that's a private thing between me, Christopher Walken and an awful lot of bacon supernoodles. Best not to ask.
Why is this (vaguely sordid) subject on my mind? Well, today a few of my cast members (HAH...members...I made a funny...ahem) and I went to see A Dangerous Method. In case you've missed all the posters, (SPOILER ALERT) it's the one where Jung and Freud fall out because Jung getting jiggy (shut up, I grew up in the early nineties) with Keira Knightly (who plays a bit of a mental). There is more to the story than that, but it's pretty much the main idea behind it. Now, as you can imagine, there's quite a bit of talk about sex in the film. You can't have a film with Freud (and Vincent Cassel...swoon...) without lots and lots of sexing talk. And some of it is really interesting stuff. About mental freedom being linked to sexual freedom, sexual liberation being a reliever of numerous disorders, the id and the ego, the subconscious masking the truthful wants of the individual. But there are also a number of bits that made me giggle rather a lot. And get confused. And think 'well, if I was the cinematographer...' . Firstly, there's a bit where Miss. Knightly is getting her rocks off and you can see her boobs. I don't want to give it away completely, but as well as getting rather...erm....jolly....she's also in quite a bit of pain. But her nipples are...well....bored by what's going on. Anyone who knows anything about female anatomy would know that in pain, cold or arousal (or sometimes confusion), nips stand to attention. They are chestical erections. Sort of. And there's NO WAY hers would have stayed all disinterested looking if she was actually....erm...involved. Also, there's a bit where she's sitting, looking perfectly lovely apart from one nip popping out over her corset to say hello (oh, so NOW you're listening mr. nip? No. Now is NOT THE TIME FOR INTRODUCTIONS.). Now, I've done a bit of research on this one. Not one girl I know could happily sit with one boob unnaturally hoisted above a bra/corset. It's a weird situation. It's not comfortable. It's not about modesty so much as symmetry. It was like the director went 'ah yeah, this will be really sexy and carefree and bohemian' but I bet all she could think about in that scene was 'why even bother hiding the other one?' Or maybe it was a costume issue and she wasn't aware. Poor girl. Then there was another bit where Mr. Cassel was having it orf with a lady in a rather vigorous way and her facial expression didn't change, just stayed vaguely bored. Throughout the whole thing. It was amazing to watch. I mean, even if it's not good, you'd make some kind of expression right? Slight surprise? Annoyance? ANYTHING?! Poor Cassel. And he'd been painted as a right old womaniser in the film, so it was a bit of an affront to his manhood really.
I have to say, I do find sex in films slightly ridiculous. Like the orgasms. When Harry Met Sally is one of my favourite films, don't get me wrong, but has anyone actually ever really been that loud? What about the neighbours? And even if everyone on both sides of the street was out, if I were the bloke, I'd just stop and stare in utter astonishment. 'Are you all right love? Because that's just a bit....erm...loud. And painful sounding.' The police would probably think someone was being murdered! Maybe it's just Americans. Maybe America is full of loudly orgasming women. Because men don't make a noise in films. Ever. Well, not like that anyway. Nope, just the women having the time of their lives. They must all have really thick, soundproof walls. And deaf partners.
And they all get it on fully dressed! In Sex and The City, Carrie always keeps her bra on. Which always make s me feel a bit sorry for her boyfriends, because men like boobs quite a lot, don't they? And isn't that a bit uncomfortable anyway? Most girls I know are skilled at the whipping the bra off through the sleeve trick, not for sexing purposes, but because bras are torture devices. They're made of wire and bone and netting and elastic. They're not made for comfort, they're made to give our chins something to rest on, or a handy place to hide your phone if you're out of pockets (for a short while at uni, I stored change in mine. A very short while, no one needs pound coin imprints on their bosom, nor pennies inexplicably falling from your top in a club as you try and do that wicked dance you learnt to Pink's 'Keep your drink and give me the money' or whatever that song's called) We actually hate hate hate wearing them. No sane woman would keep them on during sex, unless it was completely spur of the moment, possibly in a laundromat or a field. Which brings me to my next point;
Why don't people seem to like having sex in beds in films? Ok, we get it, the front room table is an exciting prospect for a place to get your rocks off. But surely a bed would be a lot comfier? And have less half drunk cans of beer, and copies of Hello on it? And fields and woodlands have wriggly bugs. And sharp sticks and stones. And poo from cows. And dog walkers peering over hedges. I once even saw a film where they had sex against a fridge. A fridge! I mean that CAN'T be fun. Freezing metal, the handle getting stuck in your back, risk of breaking it and having to spend hundreds of pounds, not to mention explaining how it broke to the repair man?
And no one ever seems to use protection! I mean, surely it's a bit presumptuous to assume the girl's on the pill, or has an implant or injections or something? What if she's a baby stealer? And girls, what if he has a series of terrible, smelly diseases? This is no way to teach youngsters! At least have a close up of a pill packet or something. Or an empty durex wrapper. Or have the chap say 'actually, you know what, even though I'm well up for this, it would be silly to risk diseases and pregnancy when you're married/a princess/my teacher/a spy/an ogre/dying of some kind of wasting illness'. Or have the girl say 'No. I'm not that sort of girl to just jump on in there without looking after my own interests. After all, we've just met, and you're a tinker/tailor/soldier/spy/athlete with a drug problem/rock star/dragon, you might have secret willy warts!'
I mean, it's not really very realistic at all is it?
Well, having ruined the romance of sex on screen for you, I'll leave you with this thought-in sex scenes, some poor make up artist will probably have to trim someone's pubes. And maybe even apply a merkin.
On that delightful note Reader, tarrah!