September 7, 2007

Let's Talk About Sex (on HBO)

Seth Arenstein finds HBO's Tell Me You Love Me offers more than just graphic sex and some unexpected points of view.

Tube Stake: Programming Reviews by Seth Arenstein

Michelle Borth and Luke Kirby steam up HBO.

• SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 9

Tell Me You Love Me, series premiere, 9pm, HBO.

It’s the fate of episodic television that each installment of a series must advance the plot, yet also feel as complete as a film, allowing viewers who’ve missed previous episodes to join the festivities in midstream, without having to ask too many questions. [Of course, as DVRs increase penetration, this will be much less of a problem for television. Indeed, it will be interesting to see, when DVRs become ubiquitous—if they ever do—whether television writing will be influenced.]

There’s good news and bad news for HBO’s sexually explicit mini-series Tell Me You Love Me. On the up side, you don’t need to watch all 10 episodes to gain something from the series. That’s because it moves so slowly. Even the dialogue is delivered slowly, which gives it a very genuine feeling. It’s as dialogue-heavy as some Bergman films as it explores the difficulties of relationships. (On the other hand, the piece has at least one scene in every episode—except the penultimate one—that will cause this nation’s collective ticker to race. It might even gain a few votes for FCC chair Kevin Martin in his eventual congressional race.)

The other nice thing about this slow-moving series is you can miss a few episodes without much damage. (OK, TiVo the eps and fast-forward to the sex scenes, if you must.)

Speaking of damage, skipping eps easily is not the case with FX’s legal drama Damages, starring Glenn Close. In that one, the plot is so thick and nuanced, even loyal watchers have trouble handling the myriad details that are heaped on weekly. The result is that the episodes don’t feel like complete packages and a terrific series is difficult for newcomers to enter easily. While I can’t prove it, I suspect its less-than-stellar ratings have something to do with that. 

While Tell Me You Love Me moves slower than the security line at the airport on the day before Thanksgiving, it has plenty to recommend it—and some of it even occurs outside the bedroom.

You’ve probably read about this highly sexual series, which spilled a lot of ink (including this writer's) at summer TCA. Critics were amazed HBO was able to get legitimate actors to appear nude for some of the most explicit scenes ever witnessed outside the adult genre. [It should be noted that TCA attendees familiarized themselves with adult content for professional reasons only. Their goal was to make themselves more informed as reporters and critics, and as such, better able to compare this series with adult films. You have to admire their dedication.]

But first a word about the plot. Yes, there is one, and it’s deep and a bit depressing. It revolves around three couples and their therapist (played by the wonderful Jane Alexander): a 20-something duo who are engaged; a 30-something couple trying to get pregnant; and a pair in their 40s whose married life includes two young children and no sex. And Alexander’s understanding therapist (Dr. May Foster) and her husband Arthur (David Selby) have been involved in a few excursions that might amuse some of her patients.

After watching all 10 episodes, you come away with a dreary view of relationships, but perhaps also the wisdom that relationships—like most things of value—require steady work.  

But to be honest, only pseudo-intellects like me will be discussing the deeper meaning of Tell Me You Love Me. Most everyone’s bound to talk about the sex on Monday morning, so let’s get right to it. Tonight you’ll get lots of female frontal nudity and an unusual (for television) amount of male bareness, including a pretty honest look at the back portion of an actor’s scrotal sack.

But, for a series where sex, or the lack thereof, plays a central role, the sex isn’t beautiful. It’s not choreographed, devoid of the romantic music, silk lingerie and soft lighting often associated with sex on television. It’s real adult sex with lots of groaning, thrusting and sweating. And while most of the cast is in good shape, there’s not a six-pack of abs to be found, nor an outlandish sexual position.     

Viewers' reactions likely will mirror the reaction of the TCA critics. There may also be chatter, mostly from the male libido portion of the audience, about Michelle Borth. The adorable 25-year-old actress whose face is a cross between Neve Campbell and Holly Marie Combs, plays Jamie, whose sex drive borders on the voracious. She tells her therapist that sex is her “thing,” a way to never be alone. She’s been engaging in it since she was 14. At one point she swears off alcohol and sex for a period to clear her head. That resolution lasts several hours shorter than Brittany Spears’ first marriage.  

The best sex scenes for the female libido (and I’m guessing here, as I’ve somehow misplaced my female libido) is probably the sex between the therapist, played by Alexander, and her husband (David Selby). It’s warm, mature and loving, and exposes far less skin than that of the other two couples. It’s close to Lifetime sex, the stylized act we see on the channel for women. 

There’s far more to be said about this engaging series, mainly, does all this sex advance the plot? But that’ll come in a few weeks’ time. For now, it’s going to be, ‘Can you believe what they showed on HBO last night?’