There are some movies which set your heart racing – the sort of movies you would never watch with your parents. These types of movies are most memorable for their raunchy sex scenes. For viewers, these can offer entertainment or a fantasy to compensate for their own lack of romantic prospects. But do we ever consider what it is like for the actors filming these scenes? More specifically, have we considered the treatment of women during sex scenes, given their consistent objectification in the film industry?

[Knightley] believes that purposeful sex scenes can have artistic value

Actress, Keira Knightley, has recently said that she will refuse to shoot sex scenes unless filmed by a female director. She has featured in multiple sex scenes filmed by male directors, her most famous being in the 2007 film, Atonement, where she wore her iconic silky green dress. However, despite her willingness to participate in these scenes in the past, she developed a ‘no nudity clause’ in her contract in 2015, driven by the fact she had children. In an interview with Chanel Connects podcast, she said she doesn’t see the point in ‘those horrible sex scenes where you’re all greased up and everybody’s grunting.’ However, she believes that purposeful sex scenes can have artistic value, suggesting she would appear in scenes directed by women. Knightley claims this recent choice is ‘partly vanity [but] partly also…it’s the male gaze.’

First coined in 1973 by Filmmaker and theorist, Laura Mulvey, the male gaze refers to the fact society is structured around the heterosexual man, who controls how women are depicted. The male gaze can be easily recognised in films. Films are usually written and directed by men, and often feature male protagonists and target male audiences, rendering women as passive. Camera angles are often used to enhance the male gaze, objectifying women. Featuring slow-motion close-ups of half-naked women situates the female body as a passive vehicle to be admired, which is dehumanising. As the camera controls the spectators’ view, audiences become accustomed to this male gaze, normalising and perpetuating it both off and on screen. Admittedly, I did not previously realise the extent of the male gaze within films, but once you see it, it is difficult to ignore.

It is not necessarily the nudity itself that [Knightley] has an issue with, but the way in which it is handled

Knightley’s decision seems justifiable as she refuses to actively encourage the male gaze which strips away female agency. It is not necessarily the nudity itself that she has an issue with, but the way in which it is handled. Clashes in the past with male directors led to her writing an essay in 2018, where she criticised how ‘they tell [her] what it is to be a woman…be pretty but not too pretty, be sexy but not too sexy.’ It certainly does seem problematic for a man to tell her how she should be using her body, and Knightley regains control by refusing involvement. She also highlights the necessity for female directors when filming sex scenes that portray ‘that journey of motherhood, that journey of body [acceptance].’ It seems only right that a woman should be directing these scenes, as only she can truly understand the unique experiences and struggles of womanhood.

Knightley is certainly not alone in her views. Netflix’s recent original series, Bridgerton, is a prime example of attempts to challenge and subvert this male gaze. Director, Julie Anne Robinson, made the conscious decision to craft her sex scenes through the female gaze using an intimacy coordinator. In an interview with Deadline, she expressed she was ‘interested in seeing something that is normally told through one set of eyes, seeing it through another set of eyes.’ This was refreshing to see as it disrupted the normalisation of the male gaze on-screen. Her aim was for each sex scene to serve a purpose and the camera angles focus on the Duke’s body, rather than Daphne’s, redefining desire on female terms and granting Daphne agency. Lead actress, Phoebe Dynevor, commented on changes in the film industry since the #MeToo movement, which grant women more power and influence. She believes women have ‘been given more power to say ‘no,’ and for a long time that wasn’t a thing.’ Thus, Dynevor felt entirely comfortable when filming the sex scenes as she knew she had the power to refuse at any point. This aligns her with Keira Knightley, both of whom use the power of refusal to promote the subversion of misogynistic film traditions.

Knightley’s standpoint illustrates that there is still much progress to be made for women in the industry

In the past, there were no intimacy coordinators overseeing how sex scenes were carried out. These scenes require great care and sensitivity, especially when violent in nature, and the lack of direction was potentially harmful to actors. In 2017 intimacy guidelines for film were published by Ita O’Brien, comparing sex scenes to high-risk stunt scenes due to the potential for psychological injuries. This marked great progress for ensuring the safety and wellbeing of those involved. However, Knightley’s standpoint illustrates that there is still much progress to be made for women in the industry.

Part of Knightley’s reasoning for refusal is that she is ‘too vain, the body has had two children now…and [she’d] just rather not stand in front of a group of men naked.’ But in the wake of many movements promoting female body positivity, is Knightley suggesting maternal bodies are undesirable? She was happy to shoot sex scenes before having children, in the prime of her youth when she met conventional beauty standards. This reasoning may perpetrate harmful views regarding the female body, which should be embraced regardless of whether a woman has had children.

In refusing to submit to the male gaze, Knightley reclaims female agency

Also, is it fair to assume that all male directors will show this one-sided perspective? Knightley has frequently expressed that her favourite sex scene was in Atonement, although this was directed by her male friend, Joe Wright. Knightley’s friendship with Wright meant she felt comfortable shooting the scenes and she praised his professionalism. This suggests that it is not necessarily about the gender of these directors, but rather about finding a director who actors can trust completely. Furthermore, few directors have had first-hand experience with the topics they film, although, this does not necessarily make them less qualified when it comes to filming.

Ultimately, it should be the choice of the individual. Keira Knightley is the only person with ownership over her body and if she only feels comfortable filming sex scenes with a female director, no one can tell her otherwise. Sex scenes can be awkward enough to film for actors as it is, so why make it anymore uncomfortable? Personally, I respect her decision, believing that it acknowledges the short-comings of the film industry’s treatment of women. In refusing to submit to the male gaze, Knightley reclaims female agency and promotes the work of shows such as Bridgerton, which seek to challenge the objectification of women.

 

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