Modern Media Selling Shock

When it comes to recent blockbuster television and cinema, it feels like we are all going to the proverbial cottage. Every time I reach for the remote or head to the movies, I seem to be unknowingly subscribing to a porno-violence screening, often, and unfortunately, with my family. Sex and blood have always been central components of screen entertainment, but some of the releases in recent months have pushed the boundaries of explicit media in my viewing experience.

HBO has long been renowned for its willingness to stream controversially explicit content. “Game of Thrones” set the stage in 2011, with its very first episode containing blatant references to incest. Then came “Euphoria” in 2019, which relied heavily on shock through its graphic portrayal of sex and substance use, especially for older audiences. Unlike the fantasy world of GOT, the show’s proximity to contemporary teenage culture made its graphic content all the more relevant and subject to comment and criticism. However, to me, both now read like child’s play compared to more recent media.

This experience stands in contrast to a reported 40 percent decline in Hollywood sex scenes since the turn of the century; perhaps the issue is not about the amount of sex and gore, but rather how these topics are portrayed—the intensity, detail, and shock factor that make them resonate. 

The release of “Heated Rivalry” was the first time I truly began considering this shift, as I innocently sat down with my mom just weeks ago to watch what I had heard was a beautiful love story. Granted, it ultimately was—and I would highly recommend it, just maybe not with your parents. What followed in the first 45 minutes, however, were some of the most detailed and graphic portrayals of sex I have seen on television. This persisted through the first few episodes, after which the plot and character development that made the show so sensational finally emerged. 

I can think of a long list of similar viewing experiences. I was equally shocked when I began “Tell Me Lies,” which has just aired its third season since premiering in 2022. I also recall shrieking with my now-roommate when we cuddled up for a movie night viewing of “Babygirl” in her Weld Hall single, as Nicole Kidman performed animalistic acts throughout her affair with intern Harris Dickinson. 

But I digress. These portrayals of sex and relationships are not a bad thing per se, but there comes a point where sultry trumps story. Their prominence, however, reflects a broader cultural moment: in a generation often described as being in a sexual recession, the prevalence of sensationalized encounters offers a form of escapism.

On the other end of television drama, if I am not watching salacious sexual depictions, I am watching heads explode, people being shot, and a general rampage of bloodshed. In a recent viewing of “Bugonia,” starring Emma Stone, I squirmed as blood splattered across the screen and heads quite literally rolled. These sequences revealed an alien-led test of humanity’s worthiness for survival, one it ultimately failed due to its selfishness and violence toward one another. In “Eddington,” Joaquin Phoenix portrays a gun-crazed New Mexican Republican locked in conflict with equally violent, vigilante left-wing protesters. Bodies were dismembered, and practically everyone ended up dead.

In an article published in The Conversation last October, Dr. James Francis Jr., a professor and specialist in horror studies at Texas A&M, detailed the reasons behind increasingly graphic depictions of violence in cinema. “The evolution in the horror genre’s presentation of blood and gore doesn’t necessarily make for scarier movies, but they often point to the scarier times in which we live,” he described. “Contemporary horror understands how senseless killings on screen are effective, because the removal of emotion from the violence parallels real-world incidents.”

This analysis certainly rings true for both titles, which provide commentary on an unraveling society characterized by a deeply selfish and polarized humanity seemingly beyond salvation.

Still, the central point remains: in cases of explicit sex and gore alike, these examples of screen media not only reflect pertinent social issues, but in some cases actively influence public sentiment and conversation.

The truth of the matter, as seen across these examples, is that sex sells—and often, so does violence. There is something similarly entrancing about the thrills of sex and blood, a sentiment captured in a 1967 Esquire article by journalist Tom Wolfe, in which the term “porno-violence” was coined. Wolfe explains, “In the new pornography, the theme is not sex. The new pornography depicts practitioners acting out another, murkier drive: people staving teeth in, ripping guts open, blowing brains out, and getting even with all those bastards….” There is something compelling that draws our eyes to sequences of violence as to sequences of sex. 

Returning to “Heated Rivalry,” the show not only achieved the highest IMDb episode ranking of 2025 but also sparked a broader discourse on toxic masculinity within sports culture. Moreover, a Vogue article published last week titled “Is ‘Heated Rivalry’ Coaxing Real-Life Athletes Out of the Closet,” revealed that “‘Heated Rivalry” star Hudson Williams noted that he and Rachel Reid—the author of the book series on which the show is based—have received messages from professional hockey, football, and basketball players who do not feel that they can publicly identify as LGBTQ+. 

In an industry where LGBTQ+ identities are often underrepresented, the show—and its portrayals of identity and relationships—has created a unique space for expression and personal confiding.

At times, the mass availability of gruesomely detailed descriptions and images of acts of violence, alongside pornographic material, results in a feeling of societal desensitization in the casual consumption of media, both real-life and scripted. That said, the undeniable provocation of these themes can also generate positive discourse and influence.

Although reports suggest a decline in the frequency of sex scenes, my viewing experience points in the opposite direction, characterized by moments of greater intensity, rendering them impossible to ignore. This heightened risqué content is mirrored by the equally pervasive presence of cinematic violence. Rather than a shift in how often these themes appear, it seems the shift lies on how intensely they are portrayed. 

While there are moments when I want to look away in embarrassment or squeamishness—and I may need to tread more carefully when choosing shows to watch with my parents—perhaps this explicitness simply reflects the social reality we inhabit. The media we consume is both an echo of and a cause for the social standards, progress, and truths of real life. Even if certain portrayals occasionally overshadow their intended narratives, the instances in which it is purposefully produced allow television and cinema to achieve their most meaningful impact.

Mia Wilcox ’28 (mwilcox@college.harvard.edu) is the Forum editor for the Independent.