News & Press

By Marc Malkin

Janus told me it was the first time you ever worked with an intimacy coordinator.

I had never done that before. You’re doing a sex scene in a bedroom and you have this older woman that’s watching and giving your notes on how to do the sex scene and I’m thinking, “Who is this person telling me how to have sex?” [Laughs.] But it was wonderful. She was lovely. It just takes the pressure off. There’s just no discomfort, because you have someone like a referee making sure it’s all above board and everyone is comfortable. She’s also like a choreographer making sure it all translates well on screen like, “Move your neck” or “Arch your back more.”

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Acclaimed director Katie Mitchell’s gripping new production of Handel’s Theodora opens at the Royal Opera House on Monday 31st January 2022.

Not heard in Covent Garden since its 1750 premiere, and sung in the original English libretto by Thomas Morell, Theodora is a tour de force for soloists and chorus alike, with ensembles, duets and arias of profound depth and beauty.  This new interpretation, conducted by Baroque specialist Harry Bicket, will re-frame the oratorio’s narrative, and is the first Royal Opera production to benefit from the expertise of an Intimacy Coordinator, Ita O’Brien, who joins the female-led creative team, taking on a vital role in the production process. 

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By Tim Ashley

Handel considered Theodora the greatest of his oratorios. Few today would disagree with him, though it was surprisingly unsuccessful at its Covent Garden premiere in 1750, and the Royal Opera’s new production effectively marks its overdue homecoming. Notoriety, however, began to cling to Katie Mitchell’s staging well before opening night, thanks to trigger warnings about “explicit violence” on the Royal Opera website, and the much reported employment of intimacy coordinator Ita O’Brien to ensure the performers felt comfortable with the sex scenes. All this has to some extent been a bit of a distraction, as the production is for the most part a reined-in affair, and neither particularly explicit (either sexually or in its depiction of violence) nor quite as inflammatory as anticipated.

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By Nadia Khomami 

Love, power, agony and death – throughout its history opera has been cherished for its displays of unbridled passion. But for those enacting scenes of murder, sex and sometimes even rape, words like consent and agency have rarely come up.

Now, in what’s thought to be a British first, the Royal Opera House (ROH) is consulting with Ita O’Brien – an intimacy coordinator who ensures actors feel comfortable during such scenes – for Katie Mitchell’s new production of Theodora, opening on Monday.

George Frideric Handel’s oratorio – about a Christian martyr who is forced into prostitution, threatened with rape and executed by Roman authorities – first premiered at the Covent Garden venue 250 years ago. For Julia Bullock, a soprano who plays the titular role, it’s a symbolic and vital moment.

“I’ve been in so many rehearsal spaces where usually it’s the performers who are making complaints about scenes, but to have that preemptively addressed was such a relief,” she said.

BY FIONNUALA HALLIGAN
…

Audiences will hopefully never look at perspective, slow-mo, fragmented bodies or female faces presented in 2D in the same way again, thanks to Menkes’ two-decades-plus of research. She certainly proves that shot design is gendered. As her eloquent interviewee Amy Zierling notes: “It’s invisible, and you don’t notice the air.” 

Menkes moves beyond the predatory camera and the subject-object set-up, though. With her commentators  — who also include Eliza Hittman, Julie Dash, Laura Mulvey, the intimacy co-ordinator Ita O’Brien and Joey Soloway, amongst others, she talks about the implied violence hidden in these tropes. The up-the-bum shot, the slow-pan down the body, the whole idea of a beautiful unconscious woman — taken to an extreme, recalls Rosanna Arquette, when her dead character was embraced by the camera in a sexual manner in Scorsese’s After Hours. Dead women, silent women – as with Cathy Moriarty’s character in Raging Bull, who literally couldn’t be heard – women seen bent over from behind – these turn into women whose consent is immaterial. The ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ trope where Harrison Ford, for example, smacks a resisting Sean Young in Bladerunner and she’s suddenly aroused, as with Jessica Lange in The Postman Always Rings Twice (1981). It’s disempowerment at its essence and, as Menkes said, it worms its way into the collective consciousness through the global power of Hollywood. (Or, in other words, forms the “bedrock of the language of rape culture”.) 

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The Girl Before star Jessica Plummer gave insight into how the cast worked closely under the eye of intimacy coordinator Ita O’Brien and explained the ’safe’ practices she brought to set.

The BBC drama tells the story of Jane (Gugu Mbatha-Raw), who becomes the tenant of a super minimalist property, designed by mysterious architect Edward (David Oyelowo). 

There’s one catch; she must live by his very specific set of rules and has limits on what and who she can bring into her life, and her new home.

But she soon ends up making some shocking discoveries about the titular ‘girl before’ Emma (Jessica Plummer), who met a grisly end three years previously.

Amid coming to grips with the initial plotline, the series also made for some more difficult scenes for the cast during production, with some very intimate moments to film.

Intimacy on screen is not a new phenomenon, but in recent years its place in the film industry has been rediscovered. The emergence of intimacy coordinators can be credited for this revolution, changing approaches to sex scenes both artistically and pragmatically. 

Male dominance in the film industry has historically moulded sexual depictions of women in objectified and degrading ways. It has also perpetuated these attitudes on set. Maria Schneider’s experience, in which she was purposely excluded from the decision to substitute butter for lubricant in her scripted rape scene, demonstrated indifference to boundaries in the workplace. In fact, the intention for director Bernardo Bertolucci was to inspire a genuine emotion of humiliation in Schneider, treating her as a prop on set. The negative psychological impact on Schneider demonstrated the need for safeguarding measures protecting women in the film industry.

Following the viral #MeToo movement in 2017, concerns around sexual assault and manipulative behaviour in the industry were pushed to the forefront. The exposure of Harvey Weinstein unmasked a world of abuse behind the glamorised Hollywood name. 

In the same year, intimacy coordinator Ita O’Brien introduced her ‘Intimacy on Set Guidelines’, inspiring a momentous shift in the treatment towards sex on set. New rules were implemented to ensure actors’ consent and set boundaries for their comfort. This shift also impacted the representation of sex on screen. Rather than constituting an entertaining and commodified addition to film and TV, sex scenes were revolutionised as realistic, vulnerable and emotive portrayals of human experience. 

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The weight of the show falls on the shoulders of the three leads: clever Melchior, whose high-minded dreams of a better future are nearly crushed by the consequences of his affair with the naïve but lovely Wendla; and well-meaning Moritz, who is destroyed by the weight of expectations placed upon him. All are utterly superb.

As Melchior, Laurie Kynaston (familiar from The Son and The Ferryman) has a tentative openness, and a firm belief in his own knowledge that make his descent almost unbearable to watch. Amara Okereke as Wendla matches him in tenderness and magnanimous trust; the scene where they make love (staged with the help of intimacy director, Ita O’Brien) has a touching clumsiness that makes it all the more affecting. Her singing is so pure and radiant, it seems to come directly from her heart. The last of the central trio, Stuart Thompson, is simply heart-breaking and there are fine performances too from Nathan Armarkwei-Laryea as one of life’s survivors and Carly-Sophia Davies as one of the world’s lost souls. It is a triumphant achievement and I wish it a long run and full houses.

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By K.J. Yossman

​Leading intimacy coordinator Ita O’Brien, who has worked on projects including “I May Destroy You” and “Normal People,” among others, has revealed she was once assaulted by a director while working on set.

O’Brien, who started her career as a dancer and movement director, was discussing the challenges of her work — including the resistance she sometimes encounters from creatives and crew — during producers’ conference Focus London.

In the beginning of her move into intimacy coordination, which was around 2015, O’Brien said productions invited her in “because they knew they really wanted” her experience and input. However, that was followed by a “middle period,” just prior to the COVID-19 pandemic starting in early 2020, when she was often met with resistance on set.

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The series hired intimacy coordinator, Ita O’Brien to carefully construct and choreograph the scenes with realistic portrayal. On Ita’s role, Daisy spoke about the vulnerability that actors face and the importance of having intimacy coordinator’s on set.

She said: ‘I find it very shocking that [intimacy coordinators are] new. You are simulating something, and you are very vulnerable in that moment. ‘So, it was amazing working with Ita [O’Brien, Normal People’s intimacy coordinator], she’s really good at allowing you to have agency in those moments.’ 

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In other words, Momoa never would have been pressured to remove his intimacy pouch had there been an intimacy coordinator on set to help guide the scene. But, sadly, the actors on Game of Thrones weren’t the only ones harmed by its problematic sex scenes. Fans who watched the fantasy series — particularly those who were young, sexually inexperienced and impressionable at the time — may have developed their own incorrect or outdated views on what’s considered normal or acceptable when it comes to sex and consent based on what they saw onscreen.

“Very often, how someone learns about intimacy is through what they see,” intimacy coordinator Ita O’Brien told InsideHook. “That is the medium through which we’re entertaining ourselves, but also reflecting our humanity back to itself. That’s what people feel that they need to aspire to. When it’s so unrealistic, it forms a real schism in how people think they should be and what they think is normal.”

We obviously can’t go back in time and undo the damage wrought by Game of Thrones‘s lack of an intimacy coordinator, but moving forward, we can work towards making the role an industry standard to ensure that actors like Whelan are never made to feel as though their personal boundaries regarding sex and nudity have been violated at work.

Ten years after the premiere of Thrones, HBO is now using intimacy coordinators on all its productions that have intimate scenes (the move was announced in 2018 after Thrones had finished filming its final season); here’s hoping that in another decade, it’ll be an absolute requirement on all film sets.

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Salvor does have a romance. I’m really struck by how in the show, sexuality and intimacy is just romantic. In other shows, it’s for shock value or it’s racy. Every single moment of intimacy felt earned, it felt dreamy and passionate. And in this case, it’s your character’s relationship with Hugo (Daniel McPhearson). Can you talk to me about how Salvor sees that relationship, and how you saw and approached those kissing scenes and more intimate moments with the other actors?

We had an amazing intimacy coach, Ita O’Brien, and some of the people that worked with her worked with us, and she made those scenes very, very easy and comfortable, and I think that we ended up with the best result. But yeah, I think that they are beautiful, and I think that it shows what Salvor’s fighting for, actually. When you get to see the connection she has with Hugo and her parents and just anyone, because, you know, a hug is intimate. A kiss on the cheek is intimate. It shows what we’re all fighting for, and that’s why I think it’s so earned and it’s so beautifully put in the show. It’s humanity, and it’s wonderful to be able to do that, to show that.

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The BBC has made intimacy co-ordinators mandatory for all its television programmes after actors including Michaela Coel said they were essential to filming sex scenes safely.

Charlotte Moore, the BBC’s director of television, has told external production companies that co‑ordinators “must be engaged” when filming scenes of an intimate nature.

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The rape scene is particularly traumatic. How did you approach filming that?

We had an amazing intimacy coordinator called Ita O’Brien and she’s worked on Sex Education, I May Destroy You and I Hate Suzie; so many incredible things that have tackled really difficult subjects. We were so lucky to have her on board, and so it was having conversations with her about what I was comfortable with, what I wasn’t. The night before shooting those scenes, Adam and I went to set with Ridley and blocked out the physicality of it. Then the next day me and Adam had a conversation and said: if there’s anything that either of us aren’t comfortable with, we’ll let each other know. But we had a respect for each other and trust in one another and we both felt very safe.

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Grazia’s entertainment reporter Ogo A caught up with the Jodie Comer and Ridley Scott to talk about their new movie The Last Duel. The film follows the story of Marguerite de Carrouges who claims to have been raped by her husband’s best friend and squire Jacques Le Gris and her husband, Jean de Carrouges, challenges him to trial by combat, the last legally sanctioned duel in France’s history. Find out what drew Jodie and Ridley to the project and what the support and atmosphere was like on set.

As you’ll gather from the wildly explicit opening scenes of every season so far, little is left to the imagination on Sex Education. The cast have been guided throughout by intimacy coordinators like Ita O’Brien, who also worked on Normal People.

According to Ncuti Gatwa, who plays fan-favourite character Eric, filming any intimate scenes during the pandemic was “tricky”.

“Everyone’s got their masks on, and from a distance, you can’t hear what anyone’s saying,” he laughs. “It just made everything take longer. But at the same time, we carried on with the same process that we had since Season 1. The intimacy directors were very much involved in every intimate scene.”

“Working with the intimacy coordinator was great – it felt like a dance routine,” adds Chinenye Ezeudu, who plays the ambitious, newly appointed Head Girl Viv. “We all knew the steps we were going to do – whether we were going to touch people’s hands, and kiss them. It was very safe. We had conversations beforehand. Some people, when they’re doing sex scenes, they have an animal in mind. Some people have sloths, or slugs. We did a whole workshop with Ita.”

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By Charlotte Durand

Britain’s Ita O’Brien is one of cinema’s unsung stars, ensuring actors are comfortable filming their most sensitive scenes in a job she has made her own.

The 56-year-old intimacy coordinator has been a key figure behind the sex scenes in acclaimed series such as “I May Destroy You”, “Sex Education” and “Normal People”. 

Preserving the intimacy of an artist filming a rape depiction, setting up a sex scene with a virgin actor and identifying the limits each actor is comfortable with are all issues that O’Brien is regularly confronted with.  

A typical conversation she regularly has with stars, she told AFP, goes along the lines: “He is going put his hand here, you put yours there and then you start the fellatio.” 

She sees her role as one of ensuring “open communication” between the director and the actors on all intimate scenes that may include kissing, nudity or sex.

By Liz Shannon Miller

That’s wonderful. To wrap up, as an actor, you’ve had plenty of experience with nudity and sex scenes — what was it like directing sequences like that?

MORTIMER: It was really interesting. I mean, I was very set in that I wanted something like that, because the story was sort of Linda’s journey, through her romantic life, was about coming to a place where she was sort of sexually liberated and felt quite awakened sexually. And that it was something that she could embrace without feeling ashamed of it. So I wanted that sex scene between her and Fabrice [Assaad Bouab] to be really sexy, but yet feel… I mean, I find sex scenes often very embarrassing to watch, and I wanted it to be sexy without being cringe-y and also to feel like it was kind of from a woman’s point of view somehow.

And so, they have these things now called intimacy coordinators. And we had this incredible woman who did the love scenes from Normal People, Ita O’Brien, who’s a real artist. It’s almost like choreographing a dance, and we spoke at length with her, and I thought of great moments in sex scenes that I’ve loved in movies, and I used that a bit and we kind of put them all together in this kind of strange… Really, the most electric moment in falling in love with someone or getting into a sexual relationship with someone is that first touch, when they first touch you, or you first touch them, and you know that you’re both thinking about the thing. And I wanted to kind of riff on that moment. And so, then I developed this whole kind of flash-forward thing.

Lily was just incredible and so open and up for it. And I was very careful to make Lily and Emily [Beecham] feel that in any moments where there was nudity that they could watch it with me and come back into the monitor. And we watched it together and worked out what looked good and what didn’t. It was a collaboration really. I guess that’s what it was. It was all of us talking and all of us working it out and being very open about it.

I’ve done a lot of those kinds of scenes in my life. And it often can feel like somebody just died or something. It’s very funereal and there’s this sort of hush sort of church-like sort of atmosphere on a set when people have to take their clothes off, which makes it much more embarrassing. And nobody’s talking, and nobody’s looking you in the eye. It’s something that we really feel so sort of, I don’t know, awkward and self-conscious, and I just wanted it to not be like that. I wanted it to be like, we’re all chatting and we’re here.

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