Why many of Mary & George's sex scenes are actually deeply unsexy

The pair used their collective cunning to position themselves in King James I's inner circle, in turn becoming one of the most noteworthy noble families in Britain, and they did so using sex – hence the team responsible for the show's very effective marketing seizing upon that Stooges track.

Mary, played here by Julianne Moore, is the brains of the operation, certainly in the earlier stages of their master plan, instigating proceedings in a bid to firmly distance herself from her murky past. George, portrayed by Nicholas Galitzine, is her mightiest weapon, wielding his cherubic features with aplomb to seduce the royal (Tony Curran).

But while sex sits at the very heart of this saucy tale, many of the sex scenes in Mary & George are surprisingly unsexy, despite initial impressions.

As searching, greedy hands tear off clothing and claw at flesh, so many of those moments are, on deeper reflection, a turn-off because they're purely transactional.

"You never paid, or took pay for your body? Didn't you buy everything with it," Niamh Algar's Sandie Brooks, a sex worker who becomes Mary's confidante and bedfellow, asks George.

In this cutthroat world, sex is so often a type of currency, largely used to manipulate and manoeuvre oneself into a more favourable position to avoid ruin.

Suddenly, rather than feeling hot under the collar, the air is quickly reduced to a chill.

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The most overt example, excluding what happens inside the brothels, is the dynamic between George and the king, which would not have materialised had it not been for Mary's conspiring – and it really goes without saying that there is nothing less sexy than having your mum dabble in your love life, as No Hard Feelings can attest to.

During all of their early rendezvous, in the period before George grows in confidence and begins to defy his mother, Mary's words about ensuring their family's survival ring out.

George must secure James. Fail to do that and the Villiers remain intensely vulnerable, which Mary is quick to remind him of at every possible opportunity.

And lest we forget that one wrong move from George could prompt the king to order his demise. The threat of poverty and death are always looming – on one occasion James bites his young lover so hard he draws blood, a shock to George's system and a sharp reminder that the king can do as he pleases.

And even as George ascends the social pecking order, his safety is not guaranteed, either from the royal or his many enemies, who circle like ravenous sharks at all times, waiting for the perfect lull in which to strike.

James's former chief lover Robert Carr, 1st Earl of Somerset (Laurie Davidson) can speak to that.

The king's insatiable appetite for the next hot young thing also keeps George on the back foot, even when the pair are wrapped around one another in the royal bedchamber.

"When I'm out of his sight or I refuse him, he forgets me, he latches on to another," says the exasperated young buck.

While an imbalance of power can have a seductive, erotic quality, however great the moral quandary, danger and destruction are never too far away, and sooner or later the house of cards will suffer a dramatic collapse.

And even as feelings of some description appear to grow between George and James, it's undercut by that void-like emptiness. When heart-rates slow as the feeding frenzy subsides, what is left in the quiet, still moments? Not much to speak of.

Mary's relationship with Sandie also draws comparisons. When George's mother allows herself to be dominated by her lover in intimate moments, the pair undoubtedly have sexual chemistry. But regardless, Algar's character never quite manages to unshackle herself from being perceived as 'useful' above all of the other qualities that maketh her.

We see that on one particular occasion when they begin kissing, but Mary also has questions, so many questions, about what Sandie has learned from her recent reconnaissance and, in an instant, their sensual encounter is reduced, its relish swiftly dissipating.

"Does it look good for me when she's tried and hung?" says Mary following Sandie's imprisonment, first concerned with her own reputation before the welfare of her so-called partner.

And while the Countess of Buckingham wants blood when her companion is murdered – "How I've thought about slicing your throat, your blood for hers," she says to Sir Francis Bacon (Mark O’Halloran), one of her fiercest detractors – tradition dictates that her concern largely rests with how her public image has been impacted.

Regardless of the connection the two women formed, it was always a means of control for Mary, necessary for her survival, as sex also is for George, both in his relationship with the king and with Katherine Manners (Mirren Mack), who becomes the Duchess of Buckingham solely as a means of consolidating their power further.

In Mary & George, sex is a business arrangement, a game plan, a necessity. And while fun is certainly had along the way, pull back the bed covers too far and its true purpose delivers a rude awakening.

Mary & George arrived on Sky Atlantic and NOW on Tuesday 5th March. Find Sky deals here. Check out more of our Drama coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on.

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