“I just want to make sure you want to do this.” These are the simple words Pete Holmes’ character asks his new friend Ali (Jamie Lee) in the season two premiere of Crashing on HBO. At first, the scene is just another unremarkable romp between two intoxicated people; what makes it feel extraordinary and timely is this painless question, posed before the “main event.” The thing is, though, this shouldn’t be extraordinary—it should be considered humdrum sexual behavior.

Still, in the current climate surrounding Time’s Up and our cultural reckoning with sexual assault, it’s refreshing to see a scene on television that proves verbally asking for consent is a normal and positive thing to do. Not only that, it doesn’t deescalate the moment at all. Pop culture is widely lacking in examples that substantiate sex can remain fun, lighthearted—and, yes, sexy—even when you explicitly ask your partner out loud, “Is this OK?”

It’s a necessary scene following the current conversations surrounding Babe’s account of a woman who had a negative sexual encounter with Aziz Ansari. The story, as recounted by a woman called Grace, provoked heavy discourse about sexual assault and a disturbing discussion about what “counts” as a nonconsensual encounter. Amidst such debates, the most prevalent point was the idea of consent. In this post-Weinstein world, women and men are being forced to reckon with what consent has looked like in the past—and what it ideally should look like now.

A pervasive argument in rape culture is the idea that asking for consent ruins the moment. Proponents say, “It’s not masculine,” “It’s not hot,” and, “I know when a woman wants me.” Well, clearly you don’t, and it’s because historically we’ve taught men that asking isn’t sexy—but taking is. Misogynists have created a cartoon-like idea of what seeking consent is like; while kissing a person, you abruptly stop, shove them away, and ask in a 1950s mid-Atlantic bluster, “Say, ma’am, let’s stop for a minute and discuss our intentions!”

In reality, asking for consent looks a lot more like the scene in Sunday’s Crashing: Pete and Ali stumble into the apartment, rosy-cheeked and giggling after sloshing back a few drinks. They sloppy-kiss until they hit the bedroom, where they begin undressing. As it’s getting hot and heavy, Pete takes a moment to check in with his partner and make sure she’s on the same page. It’s brief, but clear, and she enthusiastically replies, “All signs point to yes.” This certifies that both he and she want to have sex. The moment never ceased to be sexy, and throughout the entirety of the scene we can trace each moment of verbal and nonverbal consent from both parties. The whole thing had me thinking, “How can someone misread such straightforward signals?”

Aziz responded to Grace’s account by saying he was “surprised” they weren’t on the same page; in his mind, everything “seemed OK.” But is it really that hard to misread verbal and non-verbal cues? In Crashing, Pete and Ali are very visibly having the best time together. They’re laughing while undressing, both are smiling and excited, and they each equally push the moment forward. In a story like Grace’s, one that has resonated with so many women, it’s absolutely mind-boggling to me that a person can move forward with a sexual encounter without these verbal and physical affirmations. Aziz didn’t rape this woman, but she clearly was exhibiting both physical and verbal signals of, “I don’t want to do this.” And yet, he moved forward.

That’s why Crashing‘s sex scene was such a powerful statement of how easy and hassle-free it is to get consent. As a queer woman, I’ve noticed that it’s actually quite common amongst LGBTQ women to check in with each other during sex. Often, my partner and I will offer sentiments like, “Do you like this?” Or, “Is this OK?” There are easy ways to make your partner feel wanted—and safe—that aren’t just important, they’re mandatory. The #MeToo movement has inspired both women and men to definitively outline what feels good and what doesn’t. And now, we’re insisting that the pushing and coercion tactics that Ansari—and so many other men—have used to escalate a situation are undoubtedly not OK.

While this episode of Crashing was a positive example of what consent looks and sounds like, it’s important that more shows and movies demonstrate this moving forward. Reinforcing the idea that consent doesn’t ruin the moment—but rather enhances a feeling of shared safety—is a vital part of this #MeToo and Time’s Up conversation in pop culture and, more importantly, IRL sex.

Source link