Beware of spoilers!
I was excited about plans to complete my “Mrs. Fletcher” binging and then write a review, because there’s much to discuss on that front. But, something happened last night for which I was ill-prepared. There I was, innocently watching Season 2, Episode 7 of one of my current great escapes, “The Crown” (Netflix). The history, pageantry, cinematography, acting, and writing are beyond measure. It’s where I go to observe the London fog, the palace drama, and the sovereign’s sensible shoes. But, just as I snuggled up for some clotted cream and the Queen Mother’s scowling, the show revealed itself to be something completely different.
Suddenly, we move from cobblestone streets to the interior of Tony Armstrong-Jones’ photography studio. We watch as the famed artist shoots his lover, dancer/actress Jacqui Chan. But, this work suddenly morphs into the some of the hottest sex I’ve ever seen set to an operatic score. Hell, it was probably some of the hottest sex I’ve ever seen on tv, period. It’s beautifully shot, and you can’t take your eyes off of them. The editing is inspired, and so are some of the positions they seem to so expertly engage in (hint: stairs are involved).
You could screen this as a stand-alone, but I do highly recommend the whole series. Either way, if you’re seeking an exquisite and artistic sex scene that is smokin’ and sensual, I say, fire up the Netflix and tally ho!
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