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5 hours ago
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On paper, almost everything about Virgin Island sets off alarm bells. This “unique experiment” sees 12 virgins, mostly in their 20s (one is 30), heading off to a “radical retreat” on a Mediterranean island, where a team of professional sexperts will work on and guide them through some of their issues with intimacy. It looks like a reality show, but it is apparent from the beginning that those taking part are not reality show contestants. Nor is there a prize, as such, though some would like to have sex by the end of the experience.
The first and most obvious question is whether sticking people on telly to pore over their innermost fears and psychological struggles will prove to be in any of their best interests.
Billing it as an experiment does not place it in the most illustrious of company, either. Channel 4’s other experiment, Open House: The Great Sex Experiment, has couples trying non-monogamy in order to learn ... something? If they look really, really hard? Virgin Island is a little more probing. Despite sounding as if they had to fit a concept to the title – as possible sequels, I’ve scribbled down Isle of Men and Caveman Islands – Virgin Island does at least come with a pinch of statistical motivation. According to the headline-grabbing 2018 findings of a long-running study, one in eight young people remain virgins at the age of 26. This show sets out to ask why that might be and, if people are unhappy with this state of affairs, what can be done to help them.
Presentation aside, the show turns out to be surprisingly empathetic. Their stories vary enormously, but all of the participants have signed up because they feel stuck, miserable, uncomfortable, or a combination of the three. It doesn’t do much to assuage fears of this being a cult, at first; they have to wear plain “retreat outfits”, in order to focus on the self rather than the body. But there is a collective sense of British reserve and dry humour, which means that they do, at least, get to joke about its cult-like leanings. This humour is noted by the therapists, who attempt to explore why they are using jokes to deflect attention. Apparently that’s not always good. Maybe this is educational, after all.
There are people here with a phobia of touch, such as Jason, a 25-year-old admin assistant who is at the front and centre of the first two episodes. Others, such as Zac, a 28-year-old delivery driver, feel as if they’ve missed out on something that came naturally to their peers, and that they might have left it too late. Emma, a 23-year-old who works in fast food, has serious issues with self-esteem and body image, as does Taylor, a 29-year-old receptionist for whom the experience is initially deeply upsetting.
I am less cynical about the show than I thought I might be, in part because bringing these 12 people together seems to override one of the broader experiences they share, which is a sense that they are not like everyone else. The common ground here is important. But they are not just on Virgin Island to meet like-minded people. There is a team of sex therapists who offer workshops, demonstrations and even sexual surrogacy, with a trained, stand-in sexual partner for the sake of learning and guidance.
This is where my own British reserve kicks in. I want to not find it excruciating that “sexological bodyworker” is a job title, or that something called “Up Against the Wall” – not in any way a symbolic name – is a therapeutic exercise, or that what is clearly important work on shame and desire involves pretending to be animals and rolling around on the floor moaning. I know my response is not very helpful. Why am I using jokes to deflect attention? But I don’t think I will be the only one watching some of this with my hands over my eyes.
Virgin Island is far from perfect. In the early stages, it appears to brush over very big questions; perhaps it will start to look deeper in later episodes. But the courage of the participants is admirable, and their willingness to open up on camera, partly, it seems, to show other people that they are not alone, is touching. As some of them make breakthroughs, their confidence grows, and you can see that the process is having a positive effect on them. Virgin Island might sound like an Alan Partridge pitch, but stick with it, and it is more complex than it first seems.
