‘Truly Naked’ Actors on Making Porn, Intimacy and Creating Fantasy

Berlinale hit “Truly Naked” bets on intimacy, not porn.

“Porn is very much like WWE. It’s the fantasy that pays the bills. They get in the ring, fight and bleed. But it’s all fake,” adult performer Alessa Savage tells Variety. 

“As soon as you put sex into the mix, people find it harder to understand it’s not real. What you see in porn isn’t supposed to be replicated at home. Real intimacy is supposed to feel better than it looks.”

In Muriel d’Ansembourg’s film, Savage plays Lizzie, another adult entertainer who frequently works with Dylan (Andrew Howard). It’s a family business: his own teenage son, Alec (Caolán O’Gorman), films and edits their content. But when Alec meets Nina (Safiya Benaddi), he starts to crave more. 

As reported by Variety, “Truly Naked” has already sparked bidding wars among distributors. It’s sold by M-Appeal.

“The reception to the film has been absolutely phenomenal. It’s the right time for it. It’s the right time for people to talk about these subjects, for boundaries to be broken and for shame to be put aside,” adds Savage. 

“Seeing people fight for this film as much as Muriel has, as much as we all have, is heartwarming and nerve-wracking. It’s really something.”

D’Ansembourg, making her feature debut, worked with Savage on her short “Fuck-a-Fan.” 

“Quite a few [adult] actresses have made that jump, like Sasha Grey, Nina Hartley or Chloe Cherry. There were so many women on our crew, which Alessa wasn’t used to. She has this incredible range she’d never really gotten to show,” says the director, who noticed a “strange contradiction” in our culture around sexuality. 

“It’s everywhere, it’s used to sell everything, and at the same time, so much shame and judgment can be attached to it. That’s heartbreaking. Sexuality can teach us a lot about ourselves and each other.”

In “Truly Naked,” Dylan strives for perfection. But d’Ansembourg chose to embrace the “messiness” of love lives instead. 

“It’s precisely those real moments that I find most compelling as a filmmaker. Real intimacy is awkward and hesitant, full of small gestures and stolen glances.”

While occasionally explicit, the film cares for its characters. 

“We were all taken aback – and delighted – that the audience found its humor. That was a thrill because we were expecting walk-outs,” recalls Andrew Howard.

“People have seen it work on many different levels aside from it being a tender, intimate coming-of-age love story. As a father of a young daughter, I find it damaging the way young people are learning about sex online, which is often extreme and violent, rather than fumbling about organically, like my generation did.”

Alec and Nina are torn between what they see on their screens and what they experience together. 

“I think people don’t necessarily struggle with sex itself anymore because we’re surrounded by it in our everyday life. People struggle with vulnerability,” notes Caolán O’Gorman.

“For me, at its core, this film isn’t really about porn. It’s about breaking free from old patterns, from the life you’ve been handed, and from the version of yourself you’ve been performing. Alec starts the film observing life rather than living it. He is detached and hides behind a camera. By the end, he chooses something more honest.” 

While the team worked with intimacy coordinator Philine Janssens, their main focus was never on the physical side, but on “the emotional truth underneath,” he says. His co-star Safiya Benaddi adds: “That contrast is the absolute heartbeat of the film. You can be physically exposed without being seen at all.”

She says: “We wanted to show that true intimacy is often quiet and awkward, and deeply personal, whereas the explicit world is loud, choreographed and transactional. The film highlights that vulnerability is an act of bravery.”

Still, there was no shortage of bold moments. 

“It was quite daunting having to walk out in massive heels from Alessa and a strap-on, and dangle it in front of Andrew Howard’s face! He’s a brilliant actor, and I couldn’t walk in those heels to save my life.”

Benaddi was also surprised by the laughter in the room during the premiere.

“It was incredible to hear the audience grasp the bizarre tension between the mundane and the explicit. There’s a certain absurdity in the contrast between the high-pressure, neon-lit world of the adult industry and the reality of a stoic, rainy British seaside town.”

According to Savage, people often feel more comfortable talking about “heinous things in life” because they are more detached from them. 

“Most people haven’t murdered or even punched someone, but everyone past a certain age has had sex or wants to have sex. All of the sex we see in the media, be it a Hollywood film or porn, is highly choreographed. It’s there to elicit certain reactions. It’s not there to facilitate real intimacy.” 

The characters in the film find it easier to be naked than to talk about their feelings – she did too. 

“People have seen my naked body online for years, in all sorts of positions. But getting the opportunity to speak to them this way feels like I’m being seen for the first time.”

Ultimately, even in a world of “commodified bodies,” the human spirit is still searching for something real, observes Benaddi.

“We’ve become very comfortable with pornographic imagery because it’s accessible at any time. In theory, that isn’t an issue, with consenting adults creating content for pleasure. In practice, it can become a mess. As my dad likes to say: ‘All things in moderation.’ Young people need guidance on this.” 

“[My character] Nina is looking at a world that’s supposedly all about intimacy, asking why it feels so cold. By approaching the topic with curiosity instead of shame, she opens up a lighter, more honest conversation. That’s what the audience responded to. They were invited into a dialogue.”