Screenwriter, Blake Synder, describes that even cavemen should be able to relate to a good script. He has repeatedly emphasised that the most successful films represent primal needs of humans, whether that be survival, revenge, protecting your family or, very often, sex.
In terms of Box Office success, it is widely understood that “sex sells”. Fifty Shades of Grey, for example, turned a profit of over $500 million, placing it in the top 200 highest grossing films of all time. Consider also how the marketing of Don’t Worry Darling portrayed Harry Styles’ character as a sort of hero of female pleasure, which in my opinion somewhat downplayed the real feminist themes of the film, but no doubt contributed to the sale of cinema tickets. That being said, family films prove year on year to be the most lucrative genre. Their uncontroversial and heart-warming nature has a universal appeal that generates profit from all generations and also all sexualities, in an industry where an abundance of sex has contributed to heteronormativity and asexual erasure.
Pride & Prejudice, for me, manages to capture an intimacy that is much more powerful than sex: the intimacy of being known
So, sex is not needed to make a film sell but in order to prove that it is not needed to make a film compelling, even a romance movie, I would like to use Pride & Prejudice (2005) as a case study. Pride & Prejudice is largely regarded as one of the most romantic films of all time, yet the leading couple never even kiss. It could be argued that it is the underlying possibility of sex in such a conservative and religious society as Regency England that makes the smallest touch of hands so exciting for both the characters and the audience. While I do believe that those undertones are at play, Pride & Prejudice, for me, manages to capture an intimacy that is much more powerful than sex: the intimacy of being known. It turns out that the line “You bewitch me body and soul” would remain more memorable and more attractive to me than any sex scene. This reminds me why it is heralded as a film that encapsulates the female gaze. Perhaps, I am approaching the question of whether sex is necessary in film with a distinctly female bias but given the prolific history of female characters being used only as sex symbol to serve the characterisation of male leads (I’m looking at you, James Bond), it is hard to not find a film like Pride & Prejudice enduringly refreshing.
Overall, then, sex should and will continue to play a role on each level that constitutes a successful film. It remains in many ways a topic marked by taboo, which will continue to make seeing it and all that surrounds it on the big screen a thrilling experience. In the modern era, however, it is vital that sex on screen is approached with responsibility. The time for gratuitous and graphic sex is gone and we must focus on the potential of using it increasingly as a tool to advance story, character and representation.