(Spoiler Alert: This post contains some spoilers for several movies. You probably don’t care since these are old ones.
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I like movies. I wouldn’t call myself a movie buff, but I think I have watched a pretty good number of movies. Some of them are memorable to me because I had some interesting episodes when I watched them. For instance, I watched Saving Private Ryan on the opening day at a local theater. It was right after eating a huge amount of food at a birthday dinner, and I had no idea what I was going to see. It was a miracle that I survived the first 20 minutes without throwing up. I also watched Schindler’s list while I was suffering from one of the most extreme hangovers in my life. I was knocked out both physically and emotionally after 3+ hours of watching an extremely realistic depiction of one of the darkest moments in human history. (Interestingly, both were from Steven Spielberg. Hmm…)
Some of the movies are also special to me because I experienced sexual awakenings with them. One such movie was Amadeus. It is very mild when it comes to nudity to any adult standards, but I was 8 or 9 back then and pretty intrigued by lots of cleavages and sexual flirting between Mozart and the women. It gave me some funny feeling inside my stomach.
Damage was the first mainstream movie where I saw the full frontal nude of a well-known actor. Back then, in my home country, any frontal nudity was heavily censored, and I was fortunate to watch an uncensored version at some unofficial film festival. The scene itself was very dramatic and sad in a way, but I was so turned on by that split second showing Jeremy Irons’s flopping cock. The shock factor was probably even more because I had remembered him as a pious Jesuit priest from The Mission till then.
When I came to the States, I rewatched quite a few movies because I knew that the versions I had watched before were censored. They include the sex scene at the end of Wild Orchid, Sharon Stone’s infamous leg crossing scene from The Basic Instinct, Christopher Atkins’s beautiful nude scenes from The Blue Lagoon.
But if I have to pick one movie that affected me the most, it was The Pillow Book by Peter Greenaway. I watched it alone at a local art theater near my university. Like Greenaway’s other movies, the movie itself was weirdly sensuous and erotic. The ending was pretty grotesque to me, sort of reminding me of William Faulkner’s A Rose For Emily.
The movie was full of male frontal nudity. I think I even saw an anus in one scene. The most notable nudity belonged to Ewan McGregor, who played the main character. And there was one particular scene, where both McGregor and the female lead were standing fully naked and their entire front side filled the big screen. They were kissing and caressing, but my eye was fixated on McGregor’s seemingly fluffed cock. It even appeared getting somewhat bigger during that scene. My heart was racing.
Right then a thought hit me hard. “Shit, am I really gay? Really?” Up until then, I had been confused and concerned about my sexuality but had been systemically denying the possibility that I might be a gay. But at that moment, I started thinking that I might really be a gay. The half of the screen was showing a nude figure of a beautiful woman but I didn’t even give a slight look at her. It was the nude body of her counterpart that was making me dizzy. This thinking made me scared. It made me feel like puke. It made me want to run out of the theater right then.
The movie was over and I came home. And I was miserable for several days. I was concerned, sad, and angry. I even cried a few times. I didn’t have courage to accept myself as I was and I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t eat and sleep well. There was no one I could talk to about this. And after days of agony, I went back into the same shell that I had put on earlier and started denying again.
After a quarter century after, I still ask myself. “What if I decided to take a different route then? Would I be happier now?” I will never know.
I like movies. I wouldn’t call myself a movie buff, but I think I have watched a pretty good number of movies. Some of them are memorable to me because I had some interesting episodes when I watched them. For instance, I watched Saving Private Ryan on the opening day at a local theater. It was right after eating a huge amount of food at a birthday dinner, and I had no idea what I was going to see. It was a miracle that I survived the first 20 minutes without throwing up. I also watched Schindler’s list while I was suffering from one of the most extreme hangovers in my life. I was knocked out both physically and emotionally after 3+ hours of watching an extremely realistic depiction of one of the darkest moments in human history. (Interestingly, both were from Steven Spielberg. Hmm…)
Some of the movies are also special to me because I experienced sexual awakenings with them. One such movie was Amadeus. It is very mild when it comes to nudity to any adult standards, but I was 8 or 9 back then and pretty intrigued by lots of cleavages and sexual flirting between Mozart and the women. It gave me some funny feeling inside my stomach.
Damage was the first mainstream movie where I saw the full frontal nude of a well-known actor. Back then, in my home country, any frontal nudity was heavily censored, and I was fortunate to watch an uncensored version at some unofficial film festival. The scene itself was very dramatic and sad in a way, but I was so turned on by that split second showing Jeremy Irons’s flopping cock. The shock factor was probably even more because I had remembered him as a pious Jesuit priest from The Mission till then.
When I came to the States, I rewatched quite a few movies because I knew that the versions I had watched before were censored. They include the sex scene at the end of Wild Orchid, Sharon Stone’s infamous leg crossing scene from The Basic Instinct, Christopher Atkins’s beautiful nude scenes from The Blue Lagoon.
But if I have to pick one movie that affected me the most, it was The Pillow Book by Peter Greenaway. I watched it alone at a local art theater near my university. Like Greenaway’s other movies, the movie itself was weirdly sensuous and erotic. The ending was pretty grotesque to me, sort of reminding me of William Faulkner’s A Rose For Emily.
The movie was full of male frontal nudity. I think I even saw an anus in one scene. The most notable nudity belonged to Ewan McGregor, who played the main character. And there was one particular scene, where both McGregor and the female lead were standing fully naked and their entire front side filled the big screen. They were kissing and caressing, but my eye was fixated on McGregor’s seemingly fluffed cock. It even appeared getting somewhat bigger during that scene. My heart was racing.
Right then a thought hit me hard. “Shit, am I really gay? Really?” Up until then, I had been confused and concerned about my sexuality but had been systemically denying the possibility that I might be a gay. But at that moment, I started thinking that I might really be a gay. The half of the screen was showing a nude figure of a beautiful woman but I didn’t even give a slight look at her. It was the nude body of her counterpart that was making me dizzy. This thinking made me scared. It made me feel like puke. It made me want to run out of the theater right then.
The movie was over and I came home. And I was miserable for several days. I was concerned, sad, and angry. I even cried a few times. I didn’t have courage to accept myself as I was and I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t eat and sleep well. There was no one I could talk to about this. And after days of agony, I went back into the same shell that I had put on earlier and started denying again.
After a quarter century after, I still ask myself. “What if I decided to take a different route then? Would I be happier now?” I will never know.