Nakedness on TV and in the movies
A NAKED movie was featured on South
African television recently.
But don’t get your hopes up. The whole movie wasn’t shown. It was introduced for nothing more than titillation – in a fairly sordid meaning of the word.
That’s not to say the movie was sordid. Titled Naked Paradise, it showed how an innocent girl called Sally was introduced to fun in the sun in a world she had feared: a nudist holiday camp.
But Naked Paradise wasn’t the title advertised before the film was aired, because the serious purpose of its makers was ignored by the crew making an altogether different movie: Carry on Camping, the British comedy from the series that ran from the 1950s to the ’80s, which borrows a few snippets from the nudist film simply to set the scene for ribald humour.
The Carry On movies use nakedness like the rest of the movie industry: in small doses for effect, in this case humorous effect.
Don’t get me wrong: I enjoy the Carry On series. They don’t pretend to be
serious about anything, and when they make disastrous mistakes that would ruin
the credibility of, say, a serious historical movie, it doesn’t matter.
Carry On: Don’t Lose Your Head isn’t a history of the French Revolution, it merely pokes gentle fun at it. (Of course, the French see it as a serious affront to their Republic, but they can worry about that when the movie is shown in Paris.)
But
getting back to Naked Paradise: in Carry on Camping’s opening
scenes, you are shown a typical English cinema with a billboard poster outside
(printed in black-and-white) showing two naked girls – with an ugly bit of red
tape stuck across their nipples.
That’s typical of the local censorship that characterises the British way of dealing with sensitive films.
But it’s not a serious problem. At least the bughouse is showing the film complete and uncut (one presumes so, anyway).
It shows naked men and women playing ball-and-net games; naked women and men at the poolside; a naked woman standing behind a catering table (her wares hiding her body below the waist) handing out food to little kiddies; a family – mom and two little ones – going for a walk (you only see them from behind).
The voice-over tells you of a scene where men are doing exercises, bending over and touching their toes – but the Carry On folk deleted that footage, focusing instead on the horrified comments of Joan Sims and her friend Anthea (the actress’s name escapes me).
Sally walks towards a group playing mixed doubles badminton, and Joan squeals: “If one of those men turns around, I’m walking out of here!”
The
players are in the distance, and little detail of their bodies can be seen, but
the makers of Naked Paradise had the foresight to have the men turn
their backs to the camera.
Perhaps
in later footage they do face the camera, but the Carry On folk don’t
want us to see that part.
In
more recent years there’s been a lot more flesh visible in the movies. But I
rather imagine that adding extra flesh to the Carry Ons would not have
made them funnier. Their effect lay in the use of a little nakedness.
But
what kind of nakedness is there in the movies nowadays?
Little,
if any, is innocent fun.
I
read a comment the other day that shower scenes are common in films and TV
nowadays, and that the camera frequently focuses lovingly on the woman’s
breasts while she’s soaping and rinsing.
But,
the comment went on, if the woman steps out of the shower without a towel, you
can be certain there’s going to be sex in the scene.
And
this is the problem with nakedness in film: it’s used for sordid purposes,
which only reinforces the idea that naked equals sordid.
There
are, it seems, two kinds of filmmaker: those making material for family
viewing, where nakedness is a no-no, and those who don’t care about family
values, and sex on screen is quite okay.
But
when I say sex on screen, I must make a further distinction: on the one hand,
you have the out-and-out pornographers, who show you the sexual organs,
separately and then in operation (that I’ll leave to your imagination), and
then you have moviemakers who film simulated sex (or at least don’t show you
the pornographic bits), but still have people lewdly unclothed, and behaving
lewdly.
But
however it’s portrayed, the impression one is left with is obscene, and the
connection is reinforced: naked = obscene.
Leaving
aside those perverted human beings who willingly shell out cash to see such
filth, where does that leave the average citizen?
Sitting
in front of his TV, wondering whether this particular channel is playing by the
rules.
Because
while people pay up front to see the really nasty varieties of porn, soft porn
still finds its way onto the public channels, and you’re never quite sure where
it will pop up.
I
once came across my teenage children watching, on TV, and in the middle of the
day, a film that was all about sexual licence, and included simulated sex (with
full-frontal nudity). Needless to say I stopped them watching it.
But
where was the regulator in all this? Who authorised the channel to screen the
film at a time of day when children would be watching?
But
the irony is that this same channel, which has no qualms whatever about
screening soft porn, would balk at showing a naturist film.
They
would give excuses, saying that people would object, asking whether it’s proper
to give offence – but they offend enough people with their soft porn.
And
it doesn’t stop with material generally recognised as being soft porn. Every
channel sooner or later broadcasts material on a beauty competition, or girls
on the beach – perhaps in connection with a photo shoot on an exotic location,
with exquisite models wearing as little as possible, or maybe just the action
on the beaches of Durban, Port Elizabeth or Cape Town.
But will they take their cameras down to Sandy Bay?[1] Or to Secrets?[2]
Probably
not. But then, why not?
There
will certainly be naked people. But their nakedness is by no means sexual
display – that’s how you could characterise the sexy young things in their
brief little bikinis and stunning one-piece costumes.
So
the guardians of our morals permit our children to perve over sexy young things in swimsuits, and to watch soft-porn movies on TV, but won’t allow anyone, under any circumstances, to see how perfectly normal people enjoy their recreation in the sun without their clothes.
Here in South Africa we can go on the Internet and see all sorts of material, good and bad, located on computers around the globe. There’s some very ugly pornography masquerading behind innocent-looking domain names.
But there’s also the International Naturists Association website www.clothesfree.com, with its pictures of clothes-free recreation – including, quite frequently, shots from Nudes in the News. There you’ll see still shots of INA president Corey Mangold and his female co-presenters Red and Sherry – none of them either clothed or obscene.
But seeing Nudes in the News is something you can’t do in South Africa.
Neither the public broadcaster nor the private TV channels would think of carrying it,
as they are afraid they will offend too many people if they carry such
programmes.
But with all this less than savoury programming, what harm could a few naked people do?
– Strandloper
