You know how actors are always saying things like, “Oh filming sex scenes are one of the top ten most un-hot things to do ever,” and they are describing how much of a pain in the ass it was for them to lay around naked, in a bed, beside Brad Pitt for a week to shoot it…?
…And you know how you sit there, and watch them give these interviews and say these things, and you want to punch them in the mouth…?
…Because your job is in no way even remotely like that, nor do you make the kind of money that they do while doing it, and the fact that they are complaining about any of it, really makes you want to hate them…?
That is why I won’t be saying any of that.
Except that it is sufficient to say: I work in the theatre, so I decidedly do NOT make as much money as you, and also (in the current show’s circumstances anyway,) am sweating a lot more nightly, than you do in a week’s time.
…While being continually “made love to,” classic film style.
As a variety of people, in a hundred different scenarios, featuring dozens of acts of groping, smooshing, spitting, scratching, dusting, patting, plopping, straddling and motor boating, in a seemingly unending voyage of butt slaps, boob squishes, lip sucks, face smooshes, crotch dives, feel-ups, arm wrenches, leg locks, and what-all, I am technically getting more action than if I were married right now.
…And though often hilariously funny, achieving any sexual significance from this, is utterly out of the question.
Even for the slowly, specific things.
…Because when you’re mid-them, on a stage, the repercussions of the act are the last thing on your mind. What comes first is where the noses go this time, for the right shot to the audience, and how to balance your two weights acting against one another, and how long to hold the beat for the other thing to happen while this is going on, and how to time the end of it, when the other thing is finished, and how not to laugh when someone tip-toes by as if they fucked up and were in the wrong place, adjusting to it now…which is part of the actual humor of the show, and requires everyone on stage to keep a straight face of focus, while they do it.
This all makes the sexual innuendos, anything but sexy to the people involved. Furthermore compounding the fact that the speed and attack of these moments turns them into controlled beat-snaps. Which means lips have more the consistency of grade school children kisses, than adult sensuality. Then it’s, “where do the hand cuffs go,” ” how do we do this turn while stuck together,” “what’s a new way to straddle you that I haven’t tried yet,” “what if I bit him here,” and beard prickles, followed by sweaty nylon leg skims, and breathing all night in one another’s faces so that by the end we could reconstruct the entire day’s worth of food intake, by burps and accidental-on-purpose vocal spittings alone.
…What I’m trying to say is: Sex and comedy go together like strawberries and champagne from the seating section POV. Hell there’s a whole sub-genre invented for it. But for the bedroom farce-ing actors: I promise you, almost nothing, in the entire world, could turn you on less.
…Which is why (I think) they threw the “farce” bit in, to begin with.
For us.
Cuz if you aren’t getting “off” in bedroom matters…might as well have a good laugh at it.
Am I right?
~D
