Guys on Film

By Stacie Adams

Sex

Today I bring you a subject that’s very close to my heart. And by heart I mean sex organs.

I’m a 31 year old heterosexual woman who is appalled by the lack of male nudity in movies. Tits and girl ass are legion in film, and that’s OK, I don’t mind it. But, in the interest of this equality I hear so much about, perhaps we can add some rock hard pectorals and v-shaped abdomens into the mix? Some chiseled male bums? A quick shot of the little guy?

Remember when action movies always had that scene of the anti-hero crying into his refrigerator, or gun, or eight ounce glass of whiskey over his dead dog, or kid, or wife? And remember how in these scenes said anti-hero would always be without pants and have an ass like Michelangelo’s David?

Well, those scenes were put there for women like me. That’s what got women like me out of the house and to the theatre to see some shitty action movie we would have avoided otherwise. I recently saw Battle: LA, because I love disaster flicks, everything from The Last Wave to Independence Day, and let me tell you that film could have used some dick. The manliest thing about it was Michelle Rodriguez and she certainly isn’t packing. There was lots of chest thumping, lots of ‘take one for the team’ pep-talkery, lots of male bonding, but no actual glimpses of protruding maleness, which is my fancy way of saying no dick at all.

I realize an unsheathed dick on film is an instant NC-17 rating, and that means most theatres will refuse to run your movie, but is that really sensible? Don’t most of us see dicks on a daily basis, either your own or a loved one’s? Will the world end if you see a comely young actor’s wang flopping around? I don’t have many causes, but I think I just might take this one up.

I remember watching To Live and Die in LA and just about fainting during the scene where William Petersen is standing there completely naked, full view of the junk and everything. While the rest of the movie didn’t really do it for me (save for the car chase scene) I would recommend it heartily if only for that brief view of a hot man’s member. That’s what the well-timed addition of a man’s junk can do to your film, it can take a lackluster plot and OK acting and catapult it cult status.

When I tell men about my little theory many come back with objections, the main one being shrinkage. It’s probably cold in that studio, and nerve-wracking too, what with all those key grips and burly work men watching you cavort with some actress in her physical prime, biting into hot dogs from the craft service table, saying, ‘what’s the big deal?’ I used to have a thing for Viggo Mortensen, and really, who could blame me? Here we have a handsome, rugged, seemingly intelligent man, once married to Exene Cervenka, for fuck’s sake. Then I saw Eastern Promises.

“That looks like a button on a fur coat,” my boyfriend cried out during the steam room fight scene, and I sadly agreed. Now every time I look at Viggo I think Fur Button. And that’s not fair, you know. But life is cruel.

So obviously it’s risky for a man to show all, perhaps more so than for a woman to do the same. Because a woman’s naked body is all art and beauty, while a man’s is all action. You actually have to put that thing to work, and it has to look like it can do the job nature intended. That’s a lot of pressure to put on a man. That dong shot will live in infamy, either getting you laid for the rest of your life or laughed at and pitied.