Masters Of Sex, The Boob Tube, And SBS
Lizzy Caplan and Michael Sheen star in a promising new drama, which looks set to be as touching as it is titillating.
Masters of Sex premiered last night — a new drama imported direct from America to SBS, where it will air each Thursday at 9.30pm.
Developed by Michelle Ashford (The Pacific), the show takes the viewer back to a simpler time. No, not the late 1950s, the period in which this glossy, pricey production is set (mooring it in the TV timescape as Mad Men’s elder and more straight-laced sibling). I’m talking about the late ’90s, which was the last time this viewer tuned into SBS to try and grab a glimpse of some artistically shot flesh.
Hi Def viewing was a confronting experience in the early days of sex research.
In an era when there was no internet to turn to, young teens nationwide would retreat to rumpus rooms and basements to watch a TV show away from the family, all the while furtively flipping channels back and forth in the hope of seeing a little skin. Maybe they’d been tipped off by a friend, or had seen the soft little curves of an (S) in the TV Guide, listed after an MA Rating. Casually delivering folded washing, parents strolled along household hallways and past ajar doors, where their children would frantically grasp for the remote. In rumpus rooms and basements across suburban Australia, impressionable young minds learnt about the birds and bees via taboo seconds of gauzily shot Swedish erotica.
Based on a biography of the same name, Masters of Sex tells the true tale of a groundbreaking sex research study. It also shows a culture taking its first intellectual peek at humanity’s favourite past-time, instead of regarding the whole topic as hush-hush smut. The show tries to explore a society’s sexual awakening in an endearingly academical and touching way, while sneaking in a boob or two along the way. The pilot, for the most, part succeeds.
Sex, as any curious teenager knows, exists both in the brain and the body – it surely takes up a lot of mind time before you really get to acquaint yourself with the act. Masters applies that duology to its leads; the scholarly and severe Dr William Masters (Michael Sheen), and the warmly intuitive and expressively lipped Virginia Johnson (Lizzy Caplan) are two sides of a coin. The story of how this widely celebrated obstetrician and his college dropout assistant come to work together takes up most of the pilot, and their forward-moving professional and personal relationship looks to be the backbone of the series. The balance between the two is fascinating, if a little off kilter to begin with.
“A stiff upper lip and a stiffer bowtie, Miss Johnson. That is how one subverts a society’s conventions!”
Sheen is so internal in his performance that he is void-like, all the better to suck us in as we try to explore this remote man. Caplan, by comparison, is so immediate and present that she may as well be acting her part beside you on the couch. In some ways, the familiarity of the leads proves problematic. (Sheen has made quite a living portraying real life figures, doing multiple turns as Tony Blair in The Queen among other projects, while Caplan’s no-nonsense, softly acerbic charm has been well used in Party Down and New Girl.) I’ve seen Sheen smile before, so I know what he’s hiding, and I hope the always-loquacious Caplan is allowed to play a few cards closer to her chest.
And so, with a segue as clumsy as an adolescent bra fumble, speaking of chests – let’s get to the boobs. Or rather, and perhaps more appropriately, to the heart of the matter. As much as Masters of Sex is about the science of sex, it looks like it will also be about the emotions that come with it. Nudity (and there is a fair bit, though sadly for some there will not be enough dong) plays its way into the plot of the show, with ground-breaking theories created and confirmed amongst the copulation. Beginning with a peeping tom stint in a prostitute’s closet, the observational efforts of Masters and his secretary soon step it up a notch to closely documented lab work, both solo and in pairs.
Data will never be this sexy again.
Far from the sexposition that appears on other programs, Masters not only justifies its titillation by having it be the general gist of the whole program, but by showing the emotional repercussions of the act. Without the assistance of perennial SBS rerun Lesbian Vampire Killers, or the sexually frank Seinfeld or Sex in the City, the American public (circa mid 20th century) was apparently as well informed about the intricacies of intercourse as our schoolyard conversations at recess were. Masters’ characters seem just about as emotionally mature as we were then, too.
The leads aren’t exempt from the explicit story lines. Johnson’s attempt at making new friends-with-benefits turns dreadful in the first episode, and Masters’ own childless marriage is the clichéd case he can’t solve (and maybe the end of his marriage). Both plot points speak to the same truism: sex changes things. Sex affects Masters and Johnson in ways we can begin to see in this first episode, and in ways that will hopefully come to play in the future.
If the show examines the societal shifts in attitudes towards men and women, their sexuality, and what sex means in civilisation and relationships, it looks to be far from a stodgy period piece, and as current and worthwhile a study as anything written about double standards or hook-up culture today. If any young things out there (who must be hopelessly deprived of wireless internet, but still) are flicking over to SBS hoping to sneak a peak at some slap and tickle, they may be a little disappointed in what they come across. If they stick around, however, it looks like Masters of Sex has a few worthwhile areas to explore.
–
Matt Roden helps kids tell stories by day at the Sydney Story Factory, and by night helps adults admit to stupidity by co-running Confession Booth and TOD Talks. His illustration and design work can be seen here.