What really goes into sex on screen - and everything you ever wanted to know
Jordan Cvetanović spoke with intimacy coordinator Ita O’Brien.
Jordan CvetanovićNovember 18, 2025
Jordan Cvetanović spoke with intimacy coordinator Ita O’Brien.
Jordan CvetanovićNovember 18, 2025
The question of intimacy has always been a delicate one. Perhaps because most people confuse closeness with intimacy, interpreting it in entirely different ways, and since it’s tied to a subjective feeling, every definition inevitably falls apart. That’s likely why we keep trying to capture it through different art forms, especially film, which has the power to express what we often can’t articulate. Yet, intimacy on screen is a pure construct: a carefully choreographed scene designed to feel real, unfolding under strictly controlled conditions where actors touch by agreement and direction, and emotions are precisely adjusted later in editing. Regardless, whenever we encounter such scenes — from childhood, when we were told to cover our eyes, to adulthood, when no one forbids us to watch — explicit moments on screen always evoke a trace of unease.
I still remember, back in my screenwriting studies, the renowned director Miša Radivojević used to remind us how difficult sex scenes are to write, and even harder to film. His advice was to avoid them whenever possible because, in domestic cinema, they almost always end up looking like either assault or awkward acting exercises in passion. Fortunately, times have changed. Directors, both locally and globally, have started paying more attention to the quality of these scenes, and recently, a major shift has taken place with the arrival of a new profession on set: the intimacy coordinator. Their presence has transformed the way intimacy is portrayed, making such scenes both more convincing and safer, a change felt by everyone in front of and behind the camera.
Intimacy coordinators are a relatively new but essential part of the film and television industry, introduced in 2018. Thanks to the MeToo movement, it became more than clear that a third party on set is necessary to ensure the safety of actors. Many productions now use intimacy coordinators as standard practice, especially for scenes involving nudity, pornography, or any kind of simulated sex. Acting is, as we know, a highly sensitive and demanding profession. In the rush for roles and through long, intense rehearsals, actors are often taken by surprise when they finally receive a part and discover what the script requires of them. This is where intimacy coordination steps in. These specialists focus exclusively on the physical closeness between actors, keeping them safe by choreographing scenes that include everything from a kiss to a brief touch, to nudity or any form of explicit content.

Normal People
I remember clearly the moment I first watched the series Normal People. What immediately stood out were the emphasized sex scenes between the two main characters, which felt so real, striking, and convincing that I even felt a certain sense of shame watching them on screen. At the time, I had no idea that alongside the remarkable performances of its two stars, the magic in those scenes was shaped by Ita O’Brien. And that is far from the only project she touched. You have surely noticed that in recent years major hits like I May Destroy You, Sex Education, and It’s a Sin have all been praised for their bold yet deeply nuanced and complex intimate scenes. It is also clear that these series spoke openly about the importance of intimacy coordinators, ensuring that actors felt safe in vulnerable situations. Safety should always come before spontaneity, and that is now widely understood. Still, I wanted to know how it all began. So I asked her how she came up with the idea and decided to create an entirely new and largely unexplored role on a film set. Was it difficult to convince producers? For me it happened quite naturally. Long before intimacy coordination was established on set, I had been researching and was already interested in the choreography of the body. But I began sharing my work at the start of 2017, and in June that year I presented it to a group of agents. They immediately said they needed this.
The turning point was undoubtedly MeToo, the moment when the industry could no longer look away and was finally ready to listen and make use of the research I had been doing for years.
I was simply ready for that task. Ita brought a professional approach to sexual content and nudity on screen and on stage through her organization Intimacy on Set, which now has twenty five coordinators worldwide and offers training programs in the United States, Canada, Germany, Australia, New Zealand, and the United Kingdom. The process involves seeking active consent from actors about what they will do while filming, where on their body they can be touched and where they cannot, as well as choreographing scenes and breaking them down into agreed upon movements that feel authentic to human sexuality, look anatomically correct, and can be learned by actors just like lines or dance steps. As I listen to her, I am thinking about how much I appreciate people who speak about their work with passion, and I cannot skip the question of how television and film productions have changed since the arrival of intimacy coordinators. It has absolutely changed, truly. If you take a look at IMDB now, almost every production lists an intimacy coordinator as a legitimate member of the crew. It is incredible and wonderful and makes me very happy. Still, as I mentioned, everyone has a different relationship with their intimacy and with the idea of speaking about it openly. This is why proper training for intimacy coordinators is so important. And sometimes what we face and how we navigate those situations can be very challenging. We learn from project to project.

Sex Education
The importance and necessity of her role is evident in the fact that Michaela Coel, creator of the mini series I May Destroy You, dedicated her BAFTA award for Best Actress to Ita O’Brien. In her speech, she thanked her for making the space safe, for creating physical, emotional, and professional boundaries, and emphasized that every intervention was essential to the success of the series. She said that Ita convinced her, as both director and writer, that the position of an intimacy coordinator is necessary for any production company that wants to work with sensitive themes of sexuality and the body. So the job comes down to serving the producer, serving the director, and setting the direction we want to take, she continues as she explains the complexity of her role. It is a specific process of creating a choreography of the body. I always describe my role as something similar to a stunt coordinator. It is essentially the same.
And that means you need to build a relationship, a deep connection, a sense of trust with the people you work with so they can fully surrender to the process.”
Still, not everyone agrees. In recent months, debates have flared over whether intimacy coordinators are truly necessary — or whether their presence hinders authenticity and spontaneity. Some Hollywood A-listers have refused to work with them altogether. The most recent controversy came with the film Anora, which was shot without an intimacy coordinator at the request of lead actress Mickey Madison, who felt more comfortable working that way. The decision sparked heated discussion within the industry, though the team later clarified it was a personal choice, not a rejection of the practice itself. I asked Ita how she views this growing skepticism. “If a lead actor or actress doesn’t want to have someone guide them through the process, that’s absolutely fine,” she says. “But a film isn’t just one person. There are other actors, crew members, and team members who might need that support to feel safe and comfortable. Our job goes beyond any single individual — it’s about ensuring best practice across the entire production so that everyone knows they are protected.”

Sex scenes are undoubtedly the most delicate part of filmmaking, where art, ethics, and technical precision intersect. Before intimacy coordinators, actors were often left to navigate personal boundaries on their own, vulnerable to confusion or exploitation, blurring the line between performance and private life. Today, the process is far safer, guided by professionals who help actors move through the complexity of portraying closeness with care and confidence. “I always look for that first spark of connection,” Ita says in closing. “And it’s always in the eyes.”
A reminder that, as in life, timing is everything, especially when it comes to capturing magic. To everyone’s mutual satisfaction.