Is Hollywood Ready to Fully Embrace the Sex Worker?
Jane Fonda once quipped, “Working in Hollywood does give one a certain expertise in the field of prostitution”. The comment came in a 2019 interview in The New Yorker, upon reflection on such roles as call girl Bree Daniel in the 1971 hit Klute, a film that marked a pivot to more demanding and complex roles for the actress. Similar to Midnight Cowboy two years prior, the film depicted sex work in a gritty light, walking the fine line between sensationalism and humanism to varying degrees of success. While filming, Fonda had begun to publicly denounce the sex symbol status that had beset her post-Barbarella image and career, and she would go on to say it was the first film she made after identifying as a feminist. The role earned her many awards and nominations, despite backlash from more morally conservative critics. The argument that Tinseltown has long been known to exploit both emerging actresses and the image of the sex worker alike remains as relevant as ever.
Hollywood’s fascination with sex work is nothing new. From pre-code cautionary tales to more modern slice-of-life stories, the industry has long been captivated by the world’s oldest profession. However its portrayal has historically been haphazard, panderous, or rife with the stereotype du jour. Intimacy coordinator and adult industry alum Laura Desiree says “Hollywood has made strides in its depiction of sex work, but these narratives are filtered through sensationalism, reducing sex workers to tropes rather than multidimensional individuals.” Indeed the silver screen’s often onesided affair with the sex worker serves to highlight many issues that still run rampant in their industry today. Adult providers and their allies say the conversation's time in the spotlight is long overdue.
Not Always Pretty
It’s all but impossible to write a take on Hollywood’s complicated relationship with sex work sans mention of 1990’s Pretty Woman. After decades of their characters being consigned to those of western damsels in distress and film noir femme fatales (The Outlaw, Kiss Me Deadly) or sanitized musical darlings (Gypsy, Gigi), the movie represented a departure in the way Hollywood approached the working girl. Securing Julia Roberts a Golden Globe, it was on its release the fifth highest grossing film of all time. Never had a sex worker’s story been favored with such Cinderella treatment, and audiences couldn’t get enough of the perceived tale of triumphing over adversity via scrappiness and a new wardrobe. Originally however, the film’s plot was much more in keeping with its predecessors. Screenwriter J.F. Lawton’s initial script $3,000 (the price of Vivian’s weekend with Edward) saw the couple's entanglement not as romantic, but as an allegory for corporate greed. Featuring drug addiction and emotional abuse, it ended with our heroine and her payout being thrown onto the street, where she would eventually die of an overdose. The story was overhauled after getting picked up by the Disney owned Touchstone Pictures, although many still denounce the finished product as exploitative and lacking depth.
Depictions of sex workers generally declined in quality during the late nineties to early thousands, with subjects often presented as either lazy caricatures or harmful tropes. (Take 1995’s wildly problematic Show Girls) The 2005 fever dream Sin City put even its most plot crucial ladies of the night to a lens of blatant objectification. Perhaps unsurprisingly, one of the more successful portrayals from this era featured a real adult actress. The Girlfriend Experience, starring Sasha Grey in a role that was praised for its authenticity and nuanced perspective, even inspired a Starz anthology series nearly a decade later. However even the more self-analyzing entries to follow fell victim to the same shortcomings as their forerunners. In films like 2016’s American Honey, the subject often appears as a mere footnote in the protagonist's journey, treated as an unavoidable condition of their background rather than a complex, active choice in their stories. Despite occasional moments of nuance, the dominant trend continued to oversimplify and marginalize the sex worker experience, reducing their complex realities to plot devices or background details.
“it still feels weird to see all the praise for a big name actress playing escort dress up while we’re actually out here fighting for fair treatment”
If at First You Don’t Succeed
Enter Anora, the 2024 Cannes Palme d'Or winner. Widely regarded as one of the year's best films, it’s taken award season with undeniable force. Not since 2019’s Hustlers has a sex work centered story garnered such mainstream, must-watch buzz. Written and directed by Sean Baker, the film follows its namesake character through a whirlwind journey, confronting both personal struggles and the external challenges unique to her lifestyle. With dark comedy as his Trojan horse, Baker delivers a story that seeks earnestly to ground its plot in the protagonist's very real hopes and desires. Act one unfolds like a Gen Z reimagining of Pretty Woman, with Mikey Madison’s Anora captivating the son of a Russian oligarch. However, in Act two, the tone gradually shifts as the aftermath of a hedonistic weekend in Vegas begins to unravel. With each twist and turn, we find ourselves rooting for the outspoken character, growing even more empathetic toward her as the action reaches its sobering conclusion.
The film is the latest in a series of sex work oriented features from the director, with notable works like The Florida Project and Tangerine solidifying his reputation for approaching the subject with an advocate’s perspective. Whether or not he as a cis white man has the tools or right to tell these stories is perhaps a subject for another article. The film industry seems poised for a shift in the narrative, but if Anora’s success means it is beginning to trend towards realism balanced by honest consideration, it would indeed be a first. Says sex worker Michelle* “The movie got a lot right, but it still feels weird to see all the praise for a big name actress playing escort dress up while we’re actually out here fighting for fair treatment”. Sex work consultants were brought in during the film's production, and while community reception is clearly mixed, many have praised the humanity portrayed in the central character.
The Politic’s The Thing
While some may find hope in the popularity of this recent effort to platform the sex worker experience, much of the resulting discourse appears to lack the necessary political context. Since the passing of FOSTA-SESTA (Fight Online Sex Trafficking Act) in 2018, sex workers say they need advocacy and accurate representation now more than ever. The act's primary aim was supposedly to combat online sex trafficking by making it easier to prosecute websites that facilitate or allow its promotion, however many claim that the legislation causes much more harm than good. Consensual practitioners say the enactments force them deeper underground, and with fewer safeguards or opportunities to build community. Adds Michelle: “I used Backpage to find and vet nearly all of my clients. If a guy seemed sketchy I could send his info around to other girls and see what was up and avoid bad situations. It’s too risky to do that now.” This shift in both political climate and storytelling reflects a growing call for more nuanced, authentic portrayals, where power dynamics are questioned, and personal agency is prioritized—something Michelle's perspective highlights within the context of real-world consequences. It all ties into the broader cultural shift occasioned by the rise of 2017’s #MeToo movement.
However, there’s also room for optimism in the rising visibility of these stories, as creators and advocates work toward a more empowered representation. The growing recognition of sex work as legitimate labor—marked by the increased advocacy for workers’ rights, financial autonomy, and health care access—suggests that, alongside the struggles, there are moments of triumph and resilience to be captured. This shift is already visible in recent films that emphasize not just the adversity sex workers face, but also their agency. Prestige titles like Poor Things (2023) tap into a growing demand for stories of catharsis and bodily autonomy, empowering individuals to reclaim control and navigate unjust systems they did not create. These portrayals are vital in correcting harmful narratives, offering a fuller understanding of the diversity of experiences within the sex work industry, and showing that sex workers can be the heroes of their own stories, not simply victims or caricatures.
The stage is set, and the conditions are as ideal as they may ever be, for the film industry to amplify sex worker stories shaped by real-life input and showcase a wider spectrum of experiences. Stories where they don’t just serve as set dressing or narrative devices or objects of abject pity but as fully realized individuals with agency. This is a chance for Hollywood to amend its troubled history with the subject, moving beyond harmful stereotypes and offering more thoughtful portrayals—perhaps ultimately aiding in a real-world shift toward greater understanding and respect. As Desiree puts it “Until sex workers are consulted as experts and portrayed with the same depth and dignity afforded to other professions, Hollywood isn’t ready to depict this world ethically—it’s merely recycling its own biases”.
*Name changed to protect identity