‘Virgin Island’: It is what it seems, but it’s not what you expect

A dozen virgins spend a fortnight on an island staffed with sexologists to help them overcome their barriers to intimacy. Yes, it’s awkward. But there’s some genuine help here, too.

Zac, Charlotte, Pia, Ben, Taylor, Emma, Tom, Jason, Dave, Viraj, Holly and Louise in 'Virgin Island'. Credit: Double Act Productions

There are two things you’d expect from a show titled Virgin Island: at least one virgin and at least one island. Good news: this series features not one but 12 virgins, sent to an island in the Mediterranean to meet and work with a team of intimacy experts who’ll help them with their issues around sex. A dozen virgins will set foot on the “paradise island”; how many will leave?

Virgin Island is billed as an experiment, and while multiple seasons of MAFS have trained Australian audiences to be wary of reality television shows that claim to be experiments, here, there actually does seem to be a real attempt to come up with something more than pure titillation. Adult virgins, we’re told, are more common than ever; in a world saturated in porn, the race is on to gather sexual experiences, and if you fall behind, it’s easy to feel left out.

Still, there’s no hiding the fact that this experiment involves a group of young people – the oldest is 30, so no 40-year-old virgins here – travelling to a location where the weather is warm and the clothing is often scanty to spend a lot of time engaging in sexualised behaviour. “Are you self-conscious about our genitals touching each other?” is an early quote; good luck finding anyone in a first-time encounter who would honestly answer that question with a no.

But instead of simply being yet another landmass in the Love Island archipelago, Virgin Island features a subtle difference that sets the entire series down a very different path: the people involved are treated as real human beings. They’ve all signed up because they feel like they have a problem, and the series – perhaps surprisingly – respects that.

Some, like the sometimes-off-putting Zac, feel that they’re missing out on something that should have come naturally to them (no judgement, but feeling entitled to sex is possibly a reason why he’s on the island to begin with). Others have more complex issues; Emma is struggling with shame and body issues; Jason “can’t do touch”; behind his chirpy exterior, Tom clearly has self-esteem problems; and Ben seems to have a long list of issues he’s here to work through.

As they disembark one by one on the island, they’re greeted by, and this is a direct quote, “Some of the world’s most experienced experts on how to embrace intimacy”. It feels ever so slightly like the opening scenes in a horror movie, where the innocent cast arrive on an isolated location with no idea of what waits in store for them. Well, maybe some idea, as most of them seem to have at least a passing acquaintance with porn.

Relaxing into their time together: the participants in 'Virgin Island'. Credit: Double Act Productions

Over the next fortnight, they’re put through a series of exercises and demonstrations that are often confronting simply to watch, let alone take part in. That’s intentional, as some of the exercises are more about getting over inhibitions than anything directly linked to sex – or at least you’d hope so as far as the one where everyone pretends to be animals is concerned.

Others are a bit more eyebrow-raising. “Up Against the Wall”, in which participants are asked to push their partner up against (you guessed it) a wall in as sexy a fashion as possible, feels more like it’s designed to be good television than addressing a real problem. And while there are several times where the virgins are clearly uncomfortable, it’s usually just a natural reaction to something like having to dry hump a professional sexologist in front of a group of near-strangers.

Intimacy expert Celeste Hirschman working with a participant. Credit: Double Act Productions

It's hard not to think that a lot of the benefit the virgins are getting from their stay on the island comes from simply being around other people with the same issue they have. One of the big problems with their virgin status, we learn more than once, is that it makes them feel isolated and alone. Even if they don’t leave the island having lost their virginity – and most of them don’t – it still feels like they’ve had an authentically helpful experience.

They also had an experience that involved oral sex workshops, lessons in when and how to make (not at all creepy) romantic overtures to their partner, a session involving standing naked in front of each other in broad daylight, and masturbation practice – no jokes about how they already have plenty of experience there, please.

In fact, no jokes at all. It seems humour is one of the ways people deflect and avoid intimacy, which is a big no-no on Virgin Island. The sexologists make it very clear that this is an experience that’s about getting naked both physically and emotionally; the physical side might be what lures you in, but it’s the emotional journey that’ll keep you coming back.

Virgin Island is streaming now at SBS On Demand. Episodes will also air on SBS VICELAND, beginning with a double-episode premiere Friday 28 November at 8.30pm.