Why are sex scenes on television so dreadful, ask Rowan Pelling.
Research has long shown extreme violence can have a corrosive effect on viewers, but there's no evidence to suggest the same of post-watershed scenes of consensual, passionate intimacy. Yet, throughout my childhood and teens, you were lucky if you ever glimpsed more than a kiss on the small screen.
So my bacchanalian chalice overflowed when HBO launched Sex and the City. I felt the Western world had finally shrugged off its residual prudery. But the sages are right: be careful what you wish for.
It was when I started watching Game of Thrones that I first became consciously queasy at the direction TV sex was taking. Was there any good reason for women to constantly be on all fours with gratuitously jiggling breasts while men had sex with them? I was disturbed by the fact so many such scenes lacked eye contact, sensuality and genuine intimacy. Whose agenda was being served other than the kind of blokes who love pornography?
Then I tried The Fall and found myself repulsed by the way it eroticised the misogyny and sadism of Jamie Dornan's serial killer, turning him into a seductive anti-hero whom the copper heroine (played by Gillian Anderson) lusted after.