Reading The Guardian’s piece on intimacy coordinators, I was not surprised by what the role actually involves, but was rather surprised by how emotional the backlash still is.
When we are safeguarding performers…
- …we don’t question the expertise and advice of stunt coordinators.
- …we don’t consider fight choreography to be compromising the artistic freedom of portraying violent acts in a creative piece of work.
However, suggest that actors might need structure, consent, and clarity during simulated sex scenes, and suddenly people start talking about “artistic freedom” as if it’s under attack by having these safeguarding measures in place.
This Isn’t About Being Overprotective; It’s About Being Professional
One of the recurring criticisms mentioned in the article is that intimacy coordinators somehow make actors uncomfortable or complicate things unnecessarily. The reality is that the job exists precisely because the historic working practices already made people uncomfortable, but didn’t enable them to voice this.
For decades, actors (especially women and younger performers) were expected to trust the process, not question or rock the boat for fear of gaining a reputation and losing work. When best practice was not as defined and widespread, the industry facilitated a subjective production by production threshold of what is acceptable when it comes to both the content and process of bringing scenes of intimacy to the screen. This created uncertainty. Where there is uncertainty, there is risk. Being risky with performers is not the same as being ‘edgy’ or ’artistic’.
Intimacy coordinators replace guesswork with agreement. That’s not censorship or a barrier to creativity; it’s clarity.
What those pushing back are missing.
What stood out in The Guardian piece is that many of the loudest criticisms come from established stars who built their careers in an era where questioning power dynamics wasn’t encouraged. For them, the absence of boundaries may feel like freedom because they had and still have leverage.
What about actors without that leverage and power?
Consequently, when intimacy coordinators are dismissed as unnecessary or “awkward,” it’s worth asking: unnecessary for whom?
Structure Doesn’t Kill Chemistry and Artistry, It Enables It
There appears to be an assumption by some that planning intimacy kills spontaneity and artistry. However, fight scenes that are meticulously choreographed can still generate a visceral response. Dance numbers that are rehearsed repeatedly and methodically can still generate the intended emotional response.
Why would intimacy be the one area where professionalism supposedly ruins the magic?
In reality, knowing exactly what will happen in a scene and knowing you can say no gives performers room to actually act, not just endure.
What This Debate Is Really About
This conversation isn’t just about sex scenes. It highlights the bigger conversation about whether the film and television industry is routinely and universally willing to accept that:
- Consent can be ongoing, not implied
- Power imbalances affect “choice”
- Safety and creativity aren’t opposites
Intimacy coordinators make these dynamics visible, and visibility makes people uncomfortable. That discomfort doesn’t mean the intimacy coordinator role is ‘wrong’, it means it’s doing something important.
The Bottom Line
The resistance to intimacy coordinators feels less like a practical objection and more like nostalgia for a time when no one had to explain themselves and no one was held to account.
The good news is that filmmaking, like every other workplace, continues to evolve. If that evolution means fewer people feel pressured, exposed, or harmed in the name of art, that’s not a loss.
That’s progress.
Author: Paul Byrne
Paul is a member of The CPSH team and an experienced tutor and chaperone who has worked with young people of all age groups, from Key Stage 1 to Key Stage 5, in school settings, residential settings, and the television, film, and theatre industry. He has a background in education, management, training, and pastoral care.