Sex Lives and Videotape

By Anastasia Toufexis

Americans delight in making private moments public. Witness the success of America's Funniest Home Videos, which has been called "the hottest show on TV." But the succession of gags and goofs surrounding birthdays and family outings is tepid fare compared with the truly incendiary movies viewers are making for home consumption only. The subject? Their sex lives. Propping their camcorders and dropping their inhibitions, more and more couples are videotaping their closest encounters. Rob Lowe, it seems, is not alone.

Do-it-yourself dirty pictures are an old, if not exactly honored pastime. But technological advances have repeatedly changed the nature and allure of the game. Polaroids, for example, enabled people to take seductive snapshots without having the pictures developed by strangers. Soon after the arrival of the VCR, people who wouldn't have been caught dead in a Times Square porn house became comfortable with seeing sex tapes at home. Erotic movies account for an estimated 10% to 20% of video rentals. And when affordable, lightweight camcorders became commonplace during the past few years, X-rated home movies were the inevitable next step. No one keeps statistics on the trend, but psychologists say an increasing number of couples are making the tapes.

Nonetheless, most people approach the idea with a bit of nervousness. Joe, a lawyer, and Tara, a financial analyst (the names in this story have been changed), had been married a few months and were watching an adult film at their New York City apartment, when Tara kiddingly suggested, "Why don't we make our own?" Two months later, after consultation with a therapist, the pair re-created their wedding night on camera. Joe wore his tuxedo, Tara her bridal gown -- at least initially.

Like sex, the videotaping experience ranges from disappointing to exciting. Mary and Tom, Chicago investment bankers who checked into a local hotel with just a video camera, were mortified by the way poor lighting and camera angles distorted their overweight bodies. Fred, a professor, and Nina, a schoolteacher, recorded themselves in a candlelit bubble bath, and wound up elated. The Manhattan couple, married 20 years, have filmed three more tub trysts, complete with strawberries and whipped cream.

Is this a healthy trend? Psychologists generally give it their blessing. They see homemade erotica as a safe way to spice up a couple's sex life; there's the thrill of the forbidden but none of the danger of, say, an affair. "Frankly, I'd wonder about anyone with a camera who hadn't thought of doing it," offers Kate Wachs, a Chicago psychologist. "It's usually a fun thing done by people who have absolute trust in each other, are relaxed about their sexuality and adventuresome. It's the equivalent of making love on the beach or the kitchen table."

Men and women often find do-it-yourself videos more appealing than standard triple-X fare. For one thing, couples tend to emphasize story line as well as visuals. More important, notes psychologist Lonnie Barbach of San Francisco, "it's not just plumbing shots of anonymous people." One Minneapolis couple combined a sleazy script with agile camerawork. "I was a door-to-door salesman, and she was the housewife," says Michael, in reality a business manager. During the taping, the pair stopped the action to move the camera around the bed, adjust the zoom lens and do retakes. Despite such antics, the experience ultimately proved moving emotionally. Viewing the tape, says Michael, "we saw how much real affection there was between us; it was there in how we touched each other. You don't have the same awareness of that while you're making love."

Therapists point out some hazards, however. "Filming can hit on touchy unresolved issues within a relationship," observes Bonnie Eaker-Weil, who practices in New York City and Rutherford, N.J. "People may have incompatible attitudes concerning sex." Sonny, a stockbroker with conservative views, thought Sarah, his live-in girlfriend, was joking about taping and laughingly said O.K. One night he came home from the office and found Sarah in a negligee and the video camera running. He blew up, calling her a whore and a slut.

For some couples taping can become part of an ongoing power struggle. "Sometimes an element of coercion is involved," notes Eaker-Weil. "It's nothing overt, more subtle. Usually the man instigates the filming, and the woman goes along. But she isn't comfortable." Laurie was badgered into making several sex tapes by her husband Tim, a retired policeman. He intimated he would have an affair if she did not agree. Then Tim insisted on filming a foursome with another couple whom he and Laurie had met in a bar. Angry and upset, Laurie now wants to destroy all the tapes, but Tim has hidden them.

What to do with the videotapes is a question that all the couples face. Many erase them soon after filming, fearful children or household help will stumble across them. When tapes become public, the humiliation can be intense. The sheriff of Morris County, Kans., filmed his wife and himself with a rented video camera and mistakenly returned the camera to the store -- with the tape inside. Copies quickly circulated around the town of Council Grove. Eventually, the sheriff had to resign, and the couple left town.

But other couples treasure their tapes as a reminder of some of the most loving -- in all senses of the word -- moments of their lives. Nina and Fred keep their small video library under lock and key to protect it from prying eyes. But they are aware that someday their children may discover the revealing films. If that happens, says Nina, "we would be embarrassed, but we wouldn't be ashamed."