There’s a very specific panic occurring in Hollywood right now – the kind you see when a system built on outdated patriarchal notions is being challenged at last and change demandedrequired to change. The moment an intimacy coordinator steps onto a set, the “boys’ club” that has long dictated how sex scenes are shot must now deal with something radical: accountability.
What Is An Intimacy Coordinator?
An intimacy coordinator is the safety, modesty, and consent professional responsible for overseeing how sex and intimate scenes are created in film, television, and theatre. Some coordinators see themselves primarily as consent and safety specialists, the on-set counterpart to stunt coordinators, the people who make sure performers don’t break their necks.
Others identify themselves as artists who shape the rhythm, emotion, and choreography of intimate scenes and strive to make those moments feel authentic rather than improvised under pressure. Those philosophies can clash – sometimes sharply – even within the field.
The result is a profession defined by structure and transparency and, depending on the practitioner, a blend of protection, artistry, and negotiation that never used to exist on Hollywood sets.
What’s The Big Deal?
The backlash resurfaced after Florence Pugh described a coordinator who made her feel “exposed, not protected,” an experience she discussed in The Cut and elaborated on in Variety. Pugh’s story wasn’t anti–intimacy coordination…it was anti–bad intimacy coordination.
Nuance disintegrates quickly in a town where powerful men take criticism of any sort as their cue to relive the glory days before consent was a formal department and actors weren’t demanding little whiners.
What About That Lively/Baldoni Battle?
One of the more recent public flashpoints around boundaries came from the It Ends With Us set, where Blake Lively reportedly shut down a planned sex scene Justin Baldoni wanted to include.
Blake made it clear she wasn’t interested in “gratuitous intimacy,” and studio insiders described the disagreement as a clash between her comfort level and Baldoni‘s vision for the film.
And although it wasn’t exclusively an intimacy-coordinator dispute, it drew attention to the same cultural conversation. It’s a question of actors asserting control over intimate material instead of letting a male creative decide what their bodies should be doing for the sake of the story.
The Boys’ Club Has Been Deafening
Sean Bean complained to The Guardian that intimacy coordinators “ruin spontaneity.” “Spontaneity” sounds poetic until you remember it often meant actors, usually women, were expected to improvise discomfort.
In the pages of The Independent Liam Neeson dismissed the entire field as “a fad.” Yeah, right – because nothing says timeless masculinity like brushing off safety as a mere vagary of taste.
Male directors like David Cronenberg have publicly wondered whether intimacy coordinators are even necessary. And Michael Caine, in a moment that perfectly captured the old-guard attitude, told Variety:
“In my day, you just did the love scene and got on with it.”
– Michael Caine
Translation: No boundaries, no choreography, and certainly no woman with a clipboard asking questions.
Hollywood perpetually rewards male directors for “raw,” “authentic,” “fearless” sex scenes. The male gaze wasn’t just the norm, it was the system. If a female actor looked uneasy, directors called it realism. If she objected, she was “difficult.” And if she sought clarity or structure? She was told it killed the scene’s “magic.”
Is The “Magic” Merely Unchecked Male Control?
What intimacy coordinators actually challenge is the myth of male creative entitlement — the idea that sex scenes should operate outside normal workplace protocols because they’re “art.”
The Guardian noted the field’s differing attitudes. Some coordinators approach their work like stunt supervisors (safety first). Others are more like choreographers (aesthetics first). Jessica Steinrock, head of Intimacy Directors and Coordinators, explained in Elle that the role centers on protocols and advocacy; another coordinator in the same feature emphasizes the artistic aspect.
Neither model is the real threat. The real threat is that actors now have power. Someone is finally there on set whose job is protecting the performers’ bodies and dignity.
Younger actors have no problem whatsoever with ICs. In BuzzFeed, any number of performers described coordinators as the reason they feel safe enough to give strong, grounded performances. Boundaries aren’t obstacles for these actors. They’re oxygen.
And that’s why Hollywood’s old-guard’s panicking. Intimacy coordinators haven’t changed the art. They’ve changed who gets to control it. Intimacy coordinators don’t threaten filmmaking. They threaten the men who never thought it needed oversight. Who, in fact, viewed emotional abuse and physical exploitation as part of the film-making process.
Sex scenes aren’t “colder” or “less spontaneous” these days. They’ve become ethical – collaborative –and professional. All that’s missing is the discomfort actors used to silently endure.
If that’s enough to make the power men freak out, let ‘em freak. It’s a new day. A different age.
And aren’t you glad?
