Among the many ways that the second season of True Detective has disappointed its fans, the tepid sexual intrigue deserves a footnote. We were promised three broken cops descending into a morass of decadence that would twist their souls. Instead, we got a city manager with a prediliction for watching prostitutes screw each other, a kink so mild it barely deserves its own subreddit. Highway Patrolman Paul Woodrugh (Taylor Kitsch) is violently repressing a same-sex hookup during his tour in Afghanistan, a story which Brokeback Mountain only made interesting through gorgeous direction and detailed character development. And Detective Ani Bezzerides (Rachel McAdams) has sexual hangups you could pull from a screenwriter’s manual: repressed abuse as a child, manifested as violence and bitterness as an adult.
Itemizing the ways True Detective falls flat got me thinking about the ways it could have gone the distance. “If these sexual intrigues are dull and predictable,” I asked myself, “what would have made them more interesting?” I ran through a few scenarios in my head–maybe Paul can’t get off unless his adrenaline’s pumping; maybe Ani needs coke or amyl nitrates–but none of these would have helped Season 2’s (ahem) performance issues. Worse, it felt like they’d been done before.
Which has me wondering whether it is even possible to make an engaging story of sexual intrigue anymore? Is the era of the erotic thriller over?
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While all thrillers can have sex–where would James Bond be without it?–an erotic thriller derives its thrills from sex. It relies on the twin prongs of stimulation and shame associated with sex, especially with more exotic sex acts, to heighten narrative tension. The genre arose in the late Seventies and early Eighties, as neo-noir and relaxed film codes led to a more frank depiction of sexuality onscreen (not to mention the ways in which the introduction of premium cable and home video greased the path to profitability). But they peaked in the Nineties and have declined in popularity since.
Is Hollywood still making erotic thrillers? Gone Girl had sexual elements, weird and normal, but the chief tension came from the whodunnit at the center. The Loft wove a tale of cheating and privilege, but audiences and critics panned it. Studios may release the occasional tale of sex and danger, but they don’t command national attention the way Basic Instinct did.
What explains the decline in this once popular genre? We can point to a number of factors.
First, fewer actresses market themselves as femmes fatales in this century, and every erotic thriller needs one. This isn’t to suggest there aren’t any: Jennifer Lawrence took a stab at it in Serena, and Anne Hathaway’s Hitchockian turn in The Dark Knight Rises proves she has the chops for it. But it seems like contemporary leading actresses would rather establish themselves as action superstars, strong leaders, or comic dazzlers than as seductresses. No one’s aiming to capture the world’s attention the way Kathleen Turner did with her debut in Body Heat, or Linda Fiorentino with her starmaking turn in The Last Seduction. Frankly, this isn’t a bad thing–the very idea of the “femme fatale” is a bit dated–but it means fewer starlets to cast.
Second, growing movie budgets have made mid-tier thrillers less feasible for big studios. Over the last thirty-five years, the cost of marketing a movie alone has tripled in 2014 dollars. 2015’s The Boy Next Door likely wouldn’t have been released if Jennifer Lopez hadn’t championed it through her own production company and deliberately kept the budget small ($4MM). In the era of comic book blockbusters, YA dystopias, and Oscar-bait historical epics, a successful erotic thriller isn’t impossible, but it’s much less likely.
Finally, and perhaps most importantly, sexuality has become less shameful over the last forty years. Characters that were homosexual, bisexual, or transsexual were still fringe enough behaviors to hang a thriller on in the Eighties or Nineties, whereas today, Orange is the New Black features all three among its supporting cast. Fifty Shades of Grey, as hackneyed as its depictions of kink may have been, went a long way toward mainstreaming bondage and other formerly hushed practices. Cheating on one’s perfect wife with a sexually voracious stranger might have been enough for Fatal Attraction to build a script off of. Today, it’d produce yawns.
You could also make the case that shame has also become less shameful in the 21st Century. People still have their lives ruined by secrets, stalking, and harassment campaigns — all elements you’d find in a good erotic thriller. But the very idea of sexual intrigue presumes that people in power have something to hide. In the era of social media, people in power are marked by their willingness to share, whether it’s Donald Trump taking shots at Lindsey Graham or 50 Cent thumbing his nose at his own bankruptcy filing. How long could Matt Dillon have kept things going with both Denise Richards and Neve Campbell if Wild Things had been set in the age of Snapchat?
While none of the above make an erotic thriller impossible in the 2010s, they all contribute to making them less likely to reach the pop cultural heights that Basic Instinct or The Crying Game did in their heyday. Perhaps the erotic thriller isn’t dead–merely sleeping, coiled under rumpled sheets in a slatted sunbeam, waiting to select its next victim. In the meantime, streaming video has given us more than enough classics to sate our decadent appetites.