‘She watched us make out … then my girlfriend gave me a high five’: Maria Thattil on the reality of sex scenes
Link to the article from Stellar Magazine
To some, sitting with your partner to watch yourself make out with another might be uncomfortable. To me, it’s just part of a job – and I scored a high-five from my girlfriend afterwards.
You see, I recently joined the cast of Neighbours playing Amira Devkar and had the pleasure (pun intended) of an on-screen romance with Nicolette Stone, played by Hannah Monson.
To viewers, the scene was uninhibited, passionate, intimate and electric. The reality? Technical, safe and most importantly, comfortable.
Many people aren’t familiar with an intimacy coordinator (IC) but I credit those scenes to Bayley Turner of Create Consent, who was on set with us. Intimacy coordination is a new field; according to CBS News, the first production to hire and credit a designated IC was the 2017 HBO drama The Deuce.
Today, there are more than 100 certified ICs working in film and TV, and I’m grateful.
Before I worked with one, the discourse I noticed about ICs was varied, with big Hollywood names weighing in.
Michael Caine asked “What are they?” and argued that in his day, “You just did the love scene and got on with it without anyone interfering.”
Filmmaker Mia Hansen-Løve referred to them as “virtue police”, and Michael Douglas likened them to “executives taking control away from filmmakers”.
Sean Bean claimed ICs “spoil the spontaneity” of sex scenes and Jennifer Aniston – who said she was from “the olden days” of filming – argued that having an IC ask if you’re OK is uncomfortable when shooting those scenes “is awkward enough”.
To echo Emma Thompson’s sentiments, I think ICs are “fantastically important”.
These scenes shouldn’t be “spontaneous” – I, for one, wouldn’t want to be touched unexpectedly. As an actor, your job is to make them look fluid, sensual and natural, and ICs play a crucial role in this. They choreograph intimacy safely.
They help you establish boundaries, rehearse sounds, coordinate touch and design the intimacy so your private self is protected. Like a fight or dance scene, you then perform the “choreography” freely.
In our scene, viewers saw passionate kissing, touching and moaning. Behind that were dedicated sessions where our IC got us comfortable with being physically close, and facilitated conversation about what zones of our bodies we were/weren’t comfortable having touched.
We rehearsed every moment, coordinated movements, practiced sounds and regularly checked in with each other.
Having the IC there ensured that we were protected to enact an intimate interaction without offering up our private selves, because all we did was perform a series of technical movements.
ICs play a crucial role in an industry that’s rife with sexual abuse.
An environment where actors are empowered to have a say and consent to what they’re performing creates a safe space where no-one is taken advantage of. It also protects from power imbalances on set.
My first intimate scene wasn’t as graphic as one could be, but I’m nonetheless grateful to Bayley and the Neighbours production team for fostering a safe environment, so the scene could be achieved professionally and respectfully. It’s not every day your job requires orgasmic simulations, but when it’s achieved so safely, a high five is in order.
Which is what – like me and my girlfriend – Hannah and I did after we finished.
Job well done.
