|
Bryn Tilly writes on the
world's hottest current
cinematic trend ...
Actual Sex in
Mainstream Cinema
Sex in the cinema has been around for donkey’s years. In fact,
ever since moving pictures first started being produced and distributed
early in the 20th century there were blue movies (also known as stag
films, skin flicks, etc). But sex in the cinema maintained two separate
paths. There was the soft core and the hard core. The soft core (nudity
and simulated sex) has been focused in the mainstream, while the hard
core has remained underground. Well, that is until the early 70s.
In 1972 a film called Deep Throat (arguably the most profitable film
ever made – it cost $24,000 and by mid-73 it had made $5 million)
became the first hard core movie to play successfully to mainstream
audiences in respectable cinemas. In fact it was around this time that
the term “porn chic” was coined, referring to all the hip
and trendy couples that were seeing the film in droves.
This release spawned a short and intense period where independent adult
movies were being distributed and screened theatrically, and making
profit. Other titles included Behind The Green Door (72), The Devil
In Miss Jones (73), Resurrection Of Eve (73), and High Rise (73).
It wasn’t long though before producers realised they could make
more money by releasing two versions of the same film; an R-rated version
and an X-rated. Flesh Gordon (74) and Alice In Wonderland (76) were
two such examples.
These
two films were in fact two of the most expensive adult productions of
the time, until Caligula was released in 1981.
It was the explosion of the home video market in the late 70s that quickly
killed the theatrical adult movie. But it made perfect sense. Audiences
could now safely indulge, privately or with guests, in whatever aroused
their fancy, and not have to squirm in the narrow seats of a darkened
cinema in close proximity to total strangers.
Cinematic sex however remained as potent as ever. And it was during
the mid-70s that hard core sexuality crossed over into the mainstream.
Nagisa
Oshima’s In The Realm Of The Senses (1976 - pictured), a Japanese
period piece about an S&M relationship between a servant girl and
her master, broke new ground with its depiction of intense physical
love.
Outside of the adult movies mentioned earlier, this was the first time
wide audiences had witnessed fellatio, cunnilingus and intercourse in
such graphic detail (although the Swedish films Thriller (74) and Breaking
Point (75) had splashed sleazy graphic sex prior to this).
In The Realm Of The Senses was, however, an art film and its international
distribution was limited. But because of the director’s passionate
conviction, the strong production values, and the powerful, emotive
acting, the film received high praise from the critics - and to this
day remains a cult classic. Even Madonna has been quoted as calling
it the most erotic film she’s ever seen.
When Penthouse magazine produced Caligula (pictured) the bar was raised.
But it came at a difficult period. Ronald Reagan was US president and
conservatism was being forced upon America. The film was released in
two versions; R and X-rated. Neither of which made much money.
Despite sporting lavish production values, cavorting Penthouse Pets,
distinguished stage actors (albeit some of them unaware they were acting
in a hardcore movie), and based on a fascinating, yet controversial
historical figure, Caligula’s on-screen decadence returned a flaccid
response from the public.
Through the 1980s and 1990s the porn underground thrived, while mainstream
sex ducked and swerved, most of it ending up on the cutting room floor.
It was the Europeans that continued pushing the boundaries. Still, it
was peeks and flashes.
Dutch
director Paul Verhoeven (later to go on to a more successful, but ultimately
tamer, Hollywood career) had made several films where the portrayal
of sex on screen had been adventurous and provocative, films such as
Turkish Delight (73), The Fourth Man (83) and even Flesh + Blood (85).
Hardcore reared its head in several Euro productions; fellatio in Verhoeven’s
Spetters (1981 - pictured), and Italian productions Devil In The Flesh
(86), and The Man-Eater (99). Klaus Kinski thrusted convincingly in
the French-Japanese bordello delve Fruits Of Passion (81). While Italian
stylist Tinto
Brass (who shot Caligula) caressed and fondled his own
form of soft-going-on-hard titles such as All Ladies Do It (92) and
The Voyeur (94).
It wasn’t until the late 1990s and into the 21st century that
hard core sex in mainstream cinema started to become recognised as legitimately
artistic, and with a wider appeal than ever before.
The French came out with guns blazing. Gaspar Noe’s I Stand Alone
(97) and later Irreversible (2002 - pictured) had a dark sexuality burning
fiercely and uncompromisingly.
Catherine
Breillat’s misanthropic attacks; Romance (99), For My Sister!
(01), and Anatomy Of Hell (04) all depict various levels of graphic
sexuality; everything from bland oral sex to perverse penetrative sex.
There was Life Of Jesus (97) with its bleak adolescent carnality. And
then there was Patrice Chereau’s un-erotic Intimacy (01) with
New Zealand actress Kerry Fox briefly putting a penis in her mouth.
In
the Spanish/French romantic drama Sex And Lucia (01) the passionate,
lusty behaviour of Lucia and her lover Lorenzo is refreshingly candid
and imaginatively arousing. Although there is no actual sex, there’s
a Polaroid or two peeked at which shows real penetration, and there’s
something intensely erotic about this discreet explicit display.
Despite some films’ sexual content remaining intact, there have
been many films which the censors, either here or overseas, have decided
pushed the boundaries too far.
There was Baise-moi (Rape Me/Fuck Me) (2000 - pictured) which was banned
in Australia due to its violent, exploitative violations. As was the
Japanese prostitution degradation flick Tokyo Decadence (92) and, most
famously, Pasolini’s notorious Salo Or 120 Days Of Sodom (76).
Larry Clark’s Ken Park (02) with its dark auto-eroticism and ejaculation
was also banned, and Lars Von Trier’s The Idiots (98) had a shot
of penetrative sex cut from its Australasian release. No doubt director
Gaspar Noe will eventually run into censorship problems at the level
he keeps pushing!
But where is the line drawn? Who should decide whether one film is considered
offensive, while another is considered of high artistic merit? And what
are the criteria? Where does the line between pornography and art become
successfully blurred?
Reality TV has a lot to answer for. With the demand for realism and
fly-on-the-wall observation escalating, the craving for arousal and
confrontation will creep higher and higher. And the ante can only be
upped in two directions; sex and violence. Imagine a future where the
two biggest shows on television are PornTV and SnuffTV. It may sound
far-fetched, but versions of this kind of perversion are not far off.
But there is intelligence and imagination at work. With current maverick
directors such as Michael Winterbottom (9 Songs - pictured), Vincent
Gallo (The Brown Bunny), Lukas Moodysson (A Hole In My Heart), Jane
Campion (In The Cut) and Penny Woolcock (The Principles Of Lust), the
portrayal of graphic sexuality in mainstream cinema is continuing to
be pushed. The content may be arguable, the intent questionable, but
there is no doubt graphic sexuality has a place in mainstream cinema.
Michael Winterbottom argues that if you have a film about an athlete,
he’s gonna have to do some running from time to time, so if a
film is about a sexual relationship then graphic sex is demanded.
But, and herein lies The Rub, will the A-list actors ever allow actual
sex to be a clause added into their contracts? Or is real sex on screen
always going to be considered taboo for them, breaking the invisible
rule between what is fiction and what is documentary?
This will only leave the brave indie actors, ex-porn stars, or exhibitionistic
models to fulfill the adventurous screenwriters and directors attempting
to add an authentic spice of life to cinematic sexuality.
That’s not quite true. There have been famous actors who have
gone the extra mile, so to speak. In his early career Gerard Depardieu
took his clothes off at the drop of a hat, and in some cases rose to
the occasion; Going Places (74, known in France as The Testicles), and
The Last Woman (76) directed by Marco Ferreri, who put sex and food
on the same plate with carnal gusto in La Grande Bouffe (73).
Legend has it Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie’s improvised
love-making was on a very closed set in Don’t Look Now (1973 -
pictured), apparently Jack Nicholson and Jessica Lange were doing a
lot more than knocking plates off the kitchen table in The Postman Always
Rings Twice (81), Jean-Hugues Anglade and Beatrice Dalle were supposedly
adding a lot more heat than just the film lights at the beginning of
Betty Blue (86), and Mickey Rourke and (ex-wife) Carre Otis’s
sweaty encounters in Wild Orchid (90) were, rumour has it, genuinely
slippery.
Ultimately context and conviction is what will sing the truest in the
morality battle of real sex in cinema. Mainstream films that incorporate
actual sex into the narrative, that isn’t being portrayed purely
for gratuitous effect, will continue to be recognized and applauded.
Ideally the theatrical films depicting actual sex will be designed for
intensely erotic and graphically sensual purposes (both light and dark
in tone), leaving the underground adult industry to continue to produce
videos for purely pornographic gratification ie for getting your rocks
off in the privacy of your own home.
So turn off the lights, and long live the new flesh!
- article by Bryn Tilly
bryntilly@yahoo.com
For
more on "actual sex" in Sydney itself, click here.
|
