Two unlikely trends seem to be criss-crossing each other in the movies, intersecting at crotch level. On the one hand, according to critic Wesley Morris at The Boston Globe, mainstream movies have gotten a lot more squeamish about sex. (Lots of talk, sure, but little action.) On the other hand, according to critic Leonard Maltin at IndieWire, mainstream films have gotten a lot less squeamish about potty humor. (Exhibits A–F: This summer's poop-obsessed R-rated comedies.)
How is it that movies have all but closed the door to the bedroom but opened wide the door to the bathroom? Why are they so comfortable about one but not the other? And are these inverse trends a sign of maturity or immaturity?