Brooke M. Haney and the Art of Intimacy: How Consent, Choreography, and Care Are Reshaping On-Screen Storytelling

Brooke M. Haney works at the precise intersection of consent, choreography, and storytelling—an intimacy coordinator whose career reflects both the evolution of the role and the cultural shift that made it necessary. One of the first 50 intimacy coordinators formally recognized by SAG-AFTRA, Haney works across film, television, theatre, and academia, specializing in queer narratives, BDSM and kink, and stories involving non-consent and PTSD. Their work is not about sanitizing intimacy, but about making it intentional, narratively rigorous, and sustainable for the performers involved. As Haney puts it, “While active listening and boundaries and consent are the foundation of this work, the choreography is the art.”

Haney’s path into intimacy coordination began as an actor. Frequently cast in roles involving trauma, they found themselves grappling with the emotional residue those performances left behind. “I wanted something that allowed me to go deep into the character, but not get stuck there,” they explain. That impulse led to the creation of The Actor’s Warm Down, a 20-minute closure practice designed to help actors disengage from difficult material after rehearsals or filming. Around the same time, Haney—who came out later in life—recognized that telling queer stories responsibly required unlearning and relearning much of what they had absorbed about sex and storytelling. “I knew that if I wanted a queer lens, I would have to relearn a lot of what I knew.” For a year, they committed to daily study focused on queer sex, BDSM, kink, and alternative narrative frameworks, a process that fundamentally reshaped their creative and ethical approach.

Before the term “intimacy coordinator” was widely used, theatres began bringing Haney in to teach warm-down practices or help stage intimate scenes. Eventually, a company asked them to return as its intimacy director. “I didn’t know what that was, so I googled it and discovered that the work I was doing had a name.” Haney worked primarily in theatre until the pandemic forced a pivot to film and television—a shift that deepened their love for the craft. “I love how the camera is an added tool for the telling of intimate stories,” they say, noting how framing, proximity, and editing become part of the choreography itself. Their work now regularly involves close collaboration with directors, cinematographers, and actors to ensure that intimate moments are both consensual and cinematically precise.

Discover the careful art of intimacy

The practical realities of the job are complex and highly variable. There is no typical week: some projects require extensive pre-production work and only a single day on set, while others require daily presence. Scenes involving intimacy are often scheduled at night, but Haney is attentive to performer wellbeing. “Because the scenes can be so involved and require vulnerability it is better to do them when the actors are as fresh as possible.” The work can also be technically demanding—Haney recalls a scene that required fifteen takes to capture a short but intricate sequence in a single shot. For those interested in entering the field, their advice is grounded and unsentimental: learn how a set runs, seek out free or low-cost education before committing to expensive training programs, and “have a survival job that is very flexible (or be independently wealthy).” Above all, they emphasize that while consent is foundational, intimacy coordination is a creative discipline that demands a clear movement vocabulary and precise, desexualized communication.

Beyond set life, Haney is also a chronicler of their profession. They are the editor of The Intimacy Coordinator’s Guidebook: Specialties for Stage and Screen and the author of A History of Intimacy Professionals in Entertainment, documenting a field still in the process of defining itself. Looking ahead, they are excited by emerging formats, particularly vertical content. “There was some very daring material that I got to work on,” they say of a recent project, seeing the format as a space for experimentation as larger platforms invest. While Haney remains concerned about broader industry pressures—from production leaving Los Angeles to the implications of AI—they see this moment as historic for intimacy coordination. “We are being used more than ever before.” Their current favorite film is Bedford Park, which they intimacy coordinated and which has been selected for Sundance 2026. When the workday ends, however, their preferred medium is simple: “I still love to watch TV at home, cuddled up on the couch with my dog and my wife.”

Brooke M. Haney’s career traces the arc of an industry learning how to care for its performers without flattening its stories. Their work insists that safety and artistry are not opposing forces—that intimacy, when handled with precision and respect, can deepen narrative rather than dilute

Connect with brooke for safer sets

Looking for an intimacy coordinator to make your sets safer, connect with Brooke here.