‘We’re a Hot Topic’: Is an Intimacy Coordinator the Most Misunderstood Job in the Film Industry? | film

WWhen intimate coordinator Adelaide Waldrop is asked about her job at parties, she considers lying. “I thought about saying I was an accountant,” she says. When the truth is revealed, the response is always unnatural. There are questions about erections, merks, and inappropriate celebrities. “Or there’s a lot of, ‘Oh, we could use one of you at home with me and my lady,’ and questions about my sex life,” Waldrop adds. “We’re a hot topic.”

Lately, the heat has been high. For some, intimacy coordinators are an auspicious part of the post-#MeToo industry, one that protects actors and crew while providing important creative input — Michelle Williams, Alexander Skarsgård, and Emma Stone are among those who have spoken passionately about their experiences. For others, they are the sex police, stifling technical prowess in order to avoid HR headaches. Mickey Madison didn’t want an intimacy coordinator for her Oscar-winning sex worker film Anora. Gwyneth Paltrow asked her to “step back a little” while making Marty Supreme. Jennifer Lawrence couldn’t even remember if she had one while filming Die My Love (she did), but she said it didn’t have to be because her star, Robert Pattinson, is “not a pervert.”

Despite the response to these remarks (former Channel 4 head of drama, Caroline Hollick, described Paltrow’s comments as “irresponsible”), they contributed to a negative narrative around the intimate format. Part of the problem is that the intimate format is, in Florence Pugh’s words, “still figuring itself out.” While some versions of this work have been around for decades — sex educator Susie Bright was tapped to choreograph intimate scenes in the 1996 film Bound — it wasn’t until after #MeToo that it became an industry mainstay. Now, US intimacy coordinators have been consolidated with Sag-Aftra, and the UK has its own registry of intimacy coordinators under Bectu. Requirements include extensive training and paid credits for at least five productions.

“There was so much demand so quickly for this role that it outstripped the ability of people who were just starting to learn what it was like to properly train people to do it well,” says Waldrop, whose credits include Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy and Mickey 17. “We’re not just there to whisper in actors’ ears between takes. And I feel like some people get into this job because they think you’re going to become best friends with famous movie stars and become someone special.” He’s been praised for changing the industry for the better, but I don’t think having a big public profile as an executive is really helpful.

The role of the Intimacy Coordinator varies by project. In most cases, they start by dividing the intimate scenes in the script and hold confidential discussions with the crew and actors involved to develop a clear plan before filming. This may include sharing instances of sexual trauma, or anything they feel might affect the way they handle intimate scenes. “Everything takes a little longer, but that’s not a bad thing,” says one actor who has done sex scenes with or without an intimacy coordinator. “You never know what the actors have been through; we all have a past. So having that conversation, where no questions are asked, is really important.”

This is the case even when the conversations are lighter. “It can be as simple as someone hating a part of their body that they don’t want to see on camera,” says Robbie Taylor-Hunt, an intimacy coordinator specializing in queer content, with credits including Heartstopper and Pillion, Harry Layton’s Bifa Award-winning debut about the BDSM biker community. “I was brought in very early,” Taylor Hunt says. “Whenever you’re working on anything outside of mainstream perceptions, there’s pressure to do it justice so it doesn’t fall into tropes. But with Bellion, it felt clear because there was so much buy-in from everyone that it was never a battle.”

In addition to choreography, an intimacy coordinator’s responsibilities typically include conducting risk assessments, supervising closed groups, and providing modest clothing and barriers (ideally at least three to simulate penetration). “We are not mental health professionals,” Waldrop adds. “But we exist to help foster an environment of transparency and ongoing, informed consent for all.” Having an intimacy coordinator keeps crew members from getting involved in providing emotional support to actors during sex scenes, as was common in the days of the pre-intimacy coordinator. “A friend of mine told me that she was at a job where a young actress’ character was having sex for the first time, so the director brought a large female crew into the room and asked them to talk about their first sexual experiences, one by one, as a way to help the actress feel more comfortable,” Taylor Hunt says.

Of course, there have been more serious incidents as well, with notorious examples of real on-screen sex (“assaulting the crew like everyone else,” says Waldrop), and cases of assault; Maria Schneider said she felt “a little raped” by Marlon Brando and Bernardo Bertolucci while filming Last Tango in the butter scene in Paris.

For intimacy coordinators, it’s frustrating to see their profession reduced to clickbait. “It feels quite underrated,” says Tommy Ross Williams, whose credits include Sweetpea and The Fantastic Four: First Steps. “I’m trans, and I’m basically the butt of a joke,” they say. “I think that’s the fear we have about people talking about the body and sex in general. If people want less nuanced intimacies on screen, get rid of the intimacy coordinators. But since the advent of ICs, I think people have become more courageous in telling intimate stories with nuance and complexity.”

As for what happens next, intimacy coordinators hope that fascination will disappear; It’s hard to do work that just keeps making headlines. “I know I’ve done a good job on set when no one notices me at all,” Waldrop says. “Because everything is done beforehand, so everyone knows what they’re doing in the scene, and all I do is step back and let it happen.”