It’s hard to really preface a show like Sex Box, so I won’t try too hard. The concept is couples go have sex in a giant light-up box then talk about their problems. It started in Britain. That’s it, fair enough. And I get the feeling I’m supposed to have this opinion that’s like “THE STATE OF TV THESE DAYS MY GOODNESS” as my monocle smashes to the ground. But fuck it. It’s 2015, people. Let these people have sex in the box. More people should have sex in a box to solve their problems. Not even relationship problems. Like, you missed your train on the way to work and you’re angry about it. Go have sex in a box. Fired from that job? Sex in a box. Suddenly homeless? Go have sex in your new home. Because it’s a box.
What I’m saying is, complaining about Sex Box feels a lot like becoming outraged for outrage’s sake. There will be think pieces, oh, there will be think pieces. It’s just sex. How are you going to feel two years from now when the sex box on Sex Box is made of glass?