Kink In Film & TV
Perhaps the most recognisable misrepresentation of kink and BDSM is the series which revolutionised the ‘Mommy Porn’ literary genre.
Fifty Shades Of Grey, Or Fifty Shades Of Red Flags?
With an $85 million opening weekend at the US box office, you'd be forgiven for thinking Fifty Shades of Grey (2015) must have been a great example of BDSM life, but a staggering percentage of the BDSM community say otherwise.
What positive impact Fifty Shades could have had in opening the world up to kink was heavily outweighed by presenting the male lead as an emotionally and physically abusive manipulator, carrying the trauma of previous BDSM experiences into his later relationships to use as punishment, and presenting BDSM tendencies as a pathology to be overcome, like a sickness.
In addition to this confusion between love, abuse, and BDSM - none of which were accurately represented - the books and films brought an influx of people to the kink communities, for better and for worse. Some of whom were excited and mystified and sought to learn more in earnest, but a great many more who believed they could master bondage or S&M without the commitment to actually learning. This made abuse of power and “Dominance” endemic in the kink world. It should, however, be acknowledged that the series did empower readers to find a more fulfilling sex life, but it was by no means a healthy or accurate representation of kink & BDSM.
With an ever-growing audience, BDSM and kink have continually been sensationalised within film and television. Films dedicated to the subgenre of kink have been available for decades to the audience that knows where to look. Works like The Story of O (1975), Maitresse (1975), and 9½ Weeks (1986) allow the ‘average’ person to access this new and unusual world, and many kinksters in today’s scenes pay homage to these movies as their first introduction to kinky sex.
Female Representation in Kink & BDSM Film & TV
“The Broken Housewives & The Femme Fatales”
Women in cinematic kink and BDSM have held a variety of roles.
From housewives enacting their fantasies (Belle de Jour, 1967), to strong females delivering cruelty (Seduction: The Cruel Woman, 1985) to women maximising their sexual prowess (Basic Instinct, 1992), women have been the subject of all manner of story.
By the late 90s and early 00s, cinema was starting to normalise the concept of women pursuing pleasure within their otherwise humdrum lives (The Piano Teacher, 2001). Women as owners of sexual power became a common theme as well, most notably in Michelle Pfieffer’s latex Catwoman in Batman Returns (1992) or in television characters like Lady Heather, a mysterious Pro-Domme club owner to whom Gil Grissom finds himself drawn in CSI: Crime Scene Investigation (2001).
Yet a pervasive element of underlying psychiatric instability such as displayed by Lee Holloway in Secretary (2002) or Kiera Knightly in A Dangerous Method (2011), suggests that women can’t be predisposed to kink and BDSM without some kind of disorder - which means they can be molded.
Vulnerability leading to abuse still passes as a frequent theme, where women are not adorned in leather and PVC, but they still fall prey to the wiles of dangerous dominant males, from biopics starring Hollywood A-Listers (Quills, 2000) to lesser-known fetishistic art films (Fashionista, 2016). Likewise, shows like Submission (2016) cleverly highlight the submissive perspective of the misuse of power and plagiarism that many ‘Doms’ ascend to power with in the real world of kink and BDSM - all with a smart marketing ploy of using BDSM buzzwords as episode titles.
Male Representation in Kink & BDSM Film & TV
“The Dangerous Doms & The Shameful Submissives”
Men in kink are portrayed just as poorly as women in film and television.
Excessive sadism and the handsome romanticized "Dominant" who’ll do anything for his s-type (No One Lives, 2012), as well as dangerous pursuits of sadistic hedonism (American Psycho, 2000), serve to suggest that these “Doms" are the ones with real power.
Films such as these perpetuate the narrative that broken men can be fixed if women would only love them in return. The comedy Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down (1989) proposes just this when the lead character breaks in and seeks to hold his lover captive until she returns his feelings.
To juxtapose the vulnerability of women, cinema maximises the mainstream fascination with the underbelly of sex, yet continues to do so with an overarching theme of secrecy and shame. It’s no surprise then that kinky men are most often either dangerous predators, or as is the case of Bill Pullman’s self-abasing detective in The Sinner (2017), hiding a shameful submissive and/or bottom streak which compounds their judgement and credibility.
BDSM elements within such media all too often come in the form of sadomasochistic predilections in need of repair, masochism as a cause of self-punishment - like Paul Bettany's self-flagellating monk in DaVinci Code (2006) - or sins of sexual liberty as an abstract causation of assault (Nymphomaniac, 2013). Se7en (1995) presents a 'lust' themed killing centred around a sex worker in a club. The use of a harness, knife, gun, adultery, and rape - although never actually seen on screen - paints a truly harrowing picture of sexual deviance. Kevin Spacey's depiction of John Doe exemplifies malevolent sadism through the use of predicaments, mindfuckery, and themes of punishment, which, whilst outstanding acting, did little to make sadists seem safe.
Kink & BDSM Documentaries
The Reality Check
Documentaries like the award-winning Graphic Sexual Horror (2009) have sought to highlight the behind-the-scenes reality of providing extreme BDSM content - trying in earnest to draw the line between what is seen and what is real.
2013’s Kink, on the other hand, served more as a promotional avenue for the website it was centred around. While it focused on the relationship between adult content providers and their production crew, it did not serve to define the nuances of real-life kink dynamics and the journey a kinkster takes to get there.
While fictional males can often be depicted as dangerous or sleazy voyeurs (Blue Velvet, 1986), the documentary SICK: Bob Flanagan (1997) is a refreshingly genuine chronicle of the therapeutic use of BDSM to manage the pain of cystic fibrosis. Although it received critical acclaim, the documentary was less well-received in general release, despite an ever-increasing population of chronic pain sufferers using BDSM as a means of treatment.
Perhaps the most positive - albeit sensationalised - portrayal of kink, fetish, and BDSM is in the UK, with Channel 4’s Great British Sex Survey (2016). This documentary presents the results of a national government survey about the population’s relationship with sex and BDSM - which led to the channel commissioning Kinky Britain (2016), a TV-film about the national BDSM culture, and spin-off mini-series The Bizarre Fetish Handbook (2016), which interviewed kinksters on their love of kink including shibari, pony play, and forniphilia.
