Despite reports of sex-bomb Sharon Stone saying that fake rumpy-pumpy with action man Sylvester Stallone was like "making love to a wet fish" it certainly doesn't look that way in their film The Specialist.
The steamy seven-minute shower scene, which took Sly and Shaz a marathon four hours to complete, was proclaimed to be the sauciest in cinema history even before filming had been finished!
Other sex scenes in The Specialist include a mega-romp on the floor and a serious undercover snogathon.
Showers, floors, beds... if they can do it, so can we. But can we do it as stylishly? I wondered. After much moaning and groaning (the complaining not the passionate kind), I managed to persuade my partner to co-star in a few no-cameras sex scenes of our own, with the following results...
Nine and a half weeks
In the film: Mickey Rourke (fully clothed, as always in this film) feeds a blind-folded Kim Basinger with an assortment of delicious and not-so-delicious snacks. After being covered from head to toe in golden (or was it maple?) syrup, lots of snogging ensues...
In real life: After a two-hour jaunt around Sainsbury's, finding all the right ingredients, we didn't really feel up to much. But, a la Kim Basinger, I donned a towelling dressing-gown and a pair of men's socks (they look slightly more foxy on her, I can tell you), sauntered into the kitchen and put on the blindfold. Him Indoors proceeded to feed me - first the eggs (hard-boiled), then an olive (yuk!), a few tinned cherries alternated with cherry tomatoes, a couple of strawberries, a slurp of asti spumante, a spoonful of Benylin (just to help everything go down!), followed by a handful of fusilli pasta, some jelly, a bite of a fresh chilli, a mouthful of milk - after which I had to lean over the kitchen sink, feeling rather nauseous for a good five minutes. As in the film, I was then sprayed with mineral water (I wasn't happy) and chased around the room, The other Half wielding a tin of golden syrup. I caught sight of myself in the mirror - I looked more like Norah Batty than Kim Basinger. "We're supposed to kiss now," he said, red-faced (he was hot in that suit and overcoat!) and sticky-fingered. But I felt too sick, tired and grumpy to even answer...
Conclusion: Maybe if this scene was replayed when we had our sex-heads instead of our shopping-heads on, it might have been more successful. On this particular occasion, however, it failed dismally. And the dressing-gown was ruined... 1/10.
The postman always rings twice
In the film: Jack Nicholson "takes" Jessica Lange on the enormous kitchen table, getting all covered in baking ingredients in the process.
In real life: Bit of a problem here - we don't have a kitchen table. Sprinkling flour on the floor and rolling around in it wasn't going to have quite the same effect; nor would trying to do it on the coffee table. We did find a snooker table though (not telling where) and did the deed there. We didn't need any baking soda, but we did need lots of balls...
Conclusion: Daring, quite exciting but rather uncomfortable. We got a fair idea of how Jack and Jess must have felt. 7/10.
True romance
In the film: Christian Slater and Patricia Arquette go for it in a telephone kiosk.
In real-life: We walked down to our nearest telephone box, queued up for half an hour or so (my man sweltering once again - due, this time, to 80 degree temperatures and a long cashmere overcoat), then we entered. It was only once we'd allowed the door to swing shut that we realised we were in one of those very modern, see-through-all-round phone kiosks (much like the one in the film in fact). After a quick warm-up snog and lots of giggling, we heard a cough. Outside a new queue had formed - a rather impatient looking fifty-something gent fronting it. We thought perhaps we should pretend to make a phone-call, but as we'd come out without any change or credit cards, we couldn't. Pink-cheeked (from embarrassment, not passion), we emerged and made our way home.
Conclusion: Probably fun in LA. Not that easy on Chiswick High Road. 1/10.
Sea of love
In the film: Wonky-faced Ellen Barkin and screen titch Al Pacino (I'm sure he was standing on a box) make passionate love up against the wall in her flat.
In real life: After watching that particular part of the film on video, I kept doing Ellen Barkin impersonations (not conducive to the best sex - or any sex at all - in my bloke's opinion). To find a suitable piece of wall, we had to shift the sofa. Then we discovered (not for the first time, I might add), that we weren't actually compatible height-wise. After slipping off a pile of magazines, however, we couldn't go on. So we watched the rest of the film instead, before racing down to return it to Blockbusters before 10 o'clock. Great sex or not, we weren't going to get charged extra quid for the privilege!
