I Want To See You Truly Naked

“Fuck my gold pussy” isn’t a line you hear often in a film, is it?

The opening visuals of British film (and Dutch-Belgian co-production) Truly Naked (Muriel d’Ansembourg) — two gold-painted bodies moving together in slow motion, appearing warm and intimate — abruptly crash-cut to the reality of a porno shoot, immediately establishing the film’s central tension. Alec (Caolán O’Gorman), a baby-faced teenager, is behind the camera, filming his father Dylan (Andrew Howard) shooting a DIY porn scene with Lizzie (Alessa Savage). The act itself is sleazy, hardcore and completely matter-of-fact, ending in a gigantic cumshot on Lizzie’s face (coming from one of the all-time fakest-looking prosthetic cocks). Once filming wraps, the vibe shifts. The mood lightens instantly: everyone relaxes, chats and jokes, revealing why Dylan has his son shooting his scenes. Dylan is calm and precise, with a sharp eye for framing, and Lizzie is clearly comfortable with him (later on, they do some post-shoot still photography, including one of her smoking a cigarette with her butthole).

And so begins Truly Naked, a thoughtful yet messy drama exploring how pornography shapes the personal lives of its participants. The film never sensationalises the taboo of a father employing his teenage son as a cameraman. Instead, it focuses on whether Alec can form a functional, healthy relationship with women, and how his understanding of sex may be influenced — or skewed — by the work he does.

The setup feels a little too convenient and contrived. Alec, having just relocated to a smaller town, is the new kid in school. In one of his classes, the teacher assigns group projects on different forms of addiction, and Alec gets paired with Nina (Safiya Benaddi), a cool, unbothered feminist classmate. The two couldn’t be more different when it comes to the topic they’re researching. As we learn later, Alec is the child of not one but two porn actors (his mother, who passed away, was also in the business). Nina, on the other hand, rejects pornography altogether, even porn made for women by women. She’d prefer to have her sexual experiences be about her and her partner’s bond, rather than be polluted by outside influences.

The film does a strong job of illustrating how young people absorb and are shaped by their parents’ attitudes and behaviour. Howard is a narcissistic mess who profits from exploiting women, while Nina’s mother is a hardcore feminist who runs a company that exclusively hires women. Together, these opposing models underscore the need for young men to have strong, responsible father figures—ones who can teach them how to relate to women with respect and empathy, and, more importantly, help them understand that porn is a constructed fantasy. Most women do not want to be viewed as “fuckdolls” or “cum dumpsters,” terms Alec himself cites during a scene in which he and Nina list gendered sexual slang for their school project.

This is a film with perfectly cast actors and strong on-screen chemistry who are often left to work around clunky writing and occasionally absurd plot developments that seem hell-bent on landing on an “all porn is bad and will lead you to the dark side” narrative. Howard is especially funny (and irritating) as a father who never quite grew up, parading around in elegant silk robes and smoking joints all day. His dynamic with Alec recalls the Edina/Saffy relationship from Absolutely Fabulous (Jennifer Saunders, 1992-), with the parent behaving like the child and the child acting as the adult. When his darker side emerges later in the film, the script misses an opportunity to fully explore his inner demons, instead taking the easy way out by attributing his behaviour to a mixture of generational misogyny and a compulsive hunger for clicks and success.

Newcomers O’Gorman and Benaddi are both terrific, bringing real depth and sweetness to characters who care deeply for one another but remain out of sync when it comes to sex. Savage is also a pleasure to watch as Lizzie, offering a performance that is both funny and vulnerable. She plays a porn actress who understands the mechanics of the industry and uses that knowledge to feel empowered and in control, only to ultimately find herself in a situation she cannot control.

There’s a provocative situation in which Nina comes by the apartment when Howard and Lizzie are filming. Alec tries to avoid these worlds crashing into one another, but Nina and Lizzie meet and hit it off, and have a conversation about women in porn that’s intriguing and necessary — but eventually lands on the subtext of the film being read out in actual dialogue (“It’s the patriarchy!”). It’s the type of writing that doesn’t trust the audience to pick up a message that’s already been clearly communicated multiple times.

Truly Naked presents a number of thoughtful and ethical arguments that I largely agree with. It emphasises that on sets dominated by men, men hold both the power and the responsibility to create conditions in which performers feel safe and comfortable. The film stresses the importance of fostering environments where women feel respected and where consent is understood as clear and ongoing. It also argues that certain forms of pornography — whether produced or consumed — can contribute to “porn brain,” conditioning men to overlook the needs and boundaries of their sexual partners.

However, by having Nina outright reject even porn made for women by women — work that prioritises intimacy and female pleasure — the film misses a chance to acknowledge a growing body of ethical content that challenges the norms of a male-dominated industry. This narrow lens makes its broader take on pornography feel slightly reactionary and anti-porn: an understandable response, but ultimately limited. Pornography is too vast and varied a medium — serving as both an expression of sexual freedom and a potential source of distortion — for a handful of characters to deliver a definitive verdict. We can critique its harms without dismissing its potential for ethical expression; the industry holds room for exploitative sleaze and female-forward intimacy alike, and so do our bedrooms — where real connection need not compete with fantasy, only coexist alongside it.