c/o collider.com
Before there was Cosmopolitan Magazine, before there were sex tapes, before there was Oh Megan, there were Dr. William Masters and Virginia Johnson, the research team that pioneered the study of human sexuality. Beginning in brothels with rudimentary vibrators, they eventually legitimized a study at Washington University in St. Louis. The new Showtime series “Masters of Sex” chronicles their lives and their study from its start, featuring each masturbating prostitute along the way.
If that’s not enough to hook you, the show’s well-crafted plots, detailed characters, and beautiful 1950s-era design should do the trick. Masters, played with wonderfully subtle chilliness by Michael Sheen, is an OB/GYN dedicated to uncovering the secrets of sex and sexuality through the first true studies on the topic. It’s clear from the start that he’d probably benefit from the study more than anyone; he and his wife sleep in separate beds and he’s surprised to learn in the first episode that women can fake orgasms. Johnson, charmingly played by Lizzy Caplan (whom you might recognize as Janis Ian from “Mean Girls”), begins working at Masters’ Washington University hospital and is clearly his polar opposite, with none of the degrees but all of the intuition. He brings her on board to assist in his study and we watch the two begin to make history together.
Masters and Johnson make such an odd couple and their inevitable future romance (I promise I’m not giving anything away here—this is based on a true story, after all) feels a bit hard to root for. Perhaps this is just a matter of the difference in their personalities, but a little bit more chemistry between them would make their relationship more compelling. Nevertheless, the juxtaposition of Masters’ buttoned-up, scientific misunderstanding of people and sexuality and Johnsons’ warm affability is delightful to watch.
“Masters of Sex” plays like a sort of “Mad Men” and “Sex and the City” crossover, a hybrid I can definitely get behind. In one frivolous scene in the fifth episode, Masters tells Johnson that when he explained the details of the birds and the bees to an ignorant housewife, she looked as if she saw the second coming. Johnson coyly retorts, “Wait until she sees her husband coming.” Swap out the antiquated medical equipment in her hand for a cosmo and we might as well be watching Samantha Jones gossiping with the girls in a SoHo bar.
This definitely makes for entertaining television, but I can’t help but wonder if it’s compelling or realistic. One of the charms of “Mad Men” is how smoothly the characters fit into the 1960s setting. With her witty sexual puns and generally liberated attitude toward sex and relationships, Johnson seems a bit removed from the world she’s supposed to inhabit. Pair that with the character’s apparent lack of faults, and we’ve basically got a perfect woman on our hands. As the series progresses, I’d like to see a bit more complexity for her beyond this one-dimensional sexual liberalism.
This series has all the elements of great television, and I’m just waiting to see them all gel together. As we move further and further into this first season, the show’s slow pace allows for more details of character and plot to be revealed, and as this happens the series only gets stronger. “Masters of Sex:” come for the sex, stay for the quality storytelling.