1964's Becket is a splendid film, if one is into 1960's pompfoolery. Historically inaccurate, it is nonetheless bolstered by exquisite performances by Peter O'Toole as Henry II and Richard Burton as Thomas Becket. Both were nominated for Best Actor Oscars, and both were worthy, but lost out to Rex Harrison for the insipid My Fair Lady. More importantly, Becket also probed new ground in sexuality for these pageantry spectacles.
There is a scene, for instance, where king and Becket, seeking shelter from the rain during a falcon hunt, find a teenaged girl in a hovel. The licentious king fancies taking her to the castle and making her a whore. As an impulse, he actually lifts her burlap dress with a stick in order to ascertain the condition of her genitals.
I first saw this film when I was seven years old. It remains the only sex education I ever had. It imprinted on me like a baby duck on a hipster environmentalist. To this day first dates find the stick a little off-putting, but I always explain it comes from a good place. I still haven't found a way around slacks.