Why Hollywood’s hetero fixation with handsome men is unnecessary

Gay, short, average-looking. It simply doesn't matter to most female audiences.

Pride and Prejudice (2005)

Given that 2025 marks 250 years since Jane Austen was born, I celebrated the proper way: by watching Joe Wright’s 2005 film adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. There’s so much to like about this film, firstly because I am a staunch Keira Knightley fan and have been since she made me scream-cry in Atonement (also incidentally directed by Joe Wright). But also because it’s one of the few films that’s widely associated with catering to the female gaze. 

Illustrator Lily O’Farrell made a whole comic strip on this, focusing on the moment Mr Darcy flexes his hand involuntarily after touching Lizzie’s. Unlike male gaze films where women’s sexuality is overt and usually objectifying (see The Wolf of Wall Street), she says, “The female gaze is often defined by what it doesn’t show. That’s why Mr Darcy’s hand is so sexy. Not only are we experiencing the sexual tension from Lizzie’s point of view, but it’s all about what isn’t shown. Sex is forbidden, so this is the only skin-to-skin contact allowed.” 

And boy oh boy, does it do something to us women. 

I recently watched an interview with the film’s Mr Darcy, Matthew Macfadyen, where he shared his reservations about playing the original literary heartthrob, and it was surprisingly sad. “I wish I’d enjoyed it more,” he said, “I felt a bit miscast. I’m not dishy enough.”

I wanted to give him a little shake—to tell him that, twenty years later, we’re still head over heels with him. And that, moreover, a more conventionally “dishy” actor would probably have done the job much less effectively. What Macfadyen is perhaps forgetting is that, for most women, looks are merely the bread basket compared to a main course of emotional depth—something his version of Darcy had in buckets. 

Pride and Prejudice (2005)

Men who cry are the new six pack

I don’t want to pit famous men against each other too much, but it’s interesting that someone like Andrew Scott - a short, middle-aged gay man - has a cult following of horny women after playing the Hot Priest in Fleabag, and classically handsome men like Ryan Reynolds or Chris Hemsworth don’t. For a long time, Hollywood has tried to convince women to desire a certain kind of man - muscular, reserved, unemotional and often violent - by constantly pushing them into our path. But I think - slowly - it’s realising that it’s not landing. 

The other great example is, of course, everyone’s favourite, Paul Mescal. Now we recognise him as the global Gladiator II heartthrob, but those of us who were just as hooked through his rise to fame in Normal People will also remember a lot of male disbelief around the attention he was getting. To paraphrase a Tweet I once read, you could supposedly find 100 of him sloping around Trinity College, slab-headed and simpy, with tote bags hanging off their arms.

Some men felt, looks-wise, that Paul wasn’t worthy of such widespread yearning, that he was just some guy. But his looks - though perfectly attractive, in my opinion - weren’t the point. The point was he was able to deliver the raw, honest, complex character of Connell with unparalleled vulnerability. And that made women want him. People were similarly baffled that actor Barry Keoghan was able to pull the conventionally stunning singer Sabrina Carpenter, but for anyone moved by that single, sobering line in The Banshees of Inisherin, it didn’t seem so ridiculous. 

“Well, there goes that dream.”  

Fleabag (2016)

Too perfect for the big screen?  

I don’t think handsome actors are going anywhere—and I’m glad of it! I like watching talented and bafflingly gorgeous men like Jacob Elordi or Trevante Rhodes as much as the next person. But it’s good, I think, that we’re becoming less attached to conventional standards of male attractiveness. For women, of course, it’s a different story. But that’s for another newsletter entirely. 

One thing that interests me, though, is the idea of being ‘too handsome’ for a role, as opposed to Macfadyen’s worry about being not handsome enough. When I wrote about the end of the veneer trend,

Soph

made an interesting point about watching Denzel Washington in Gladiator II. His teeth were perfect and beautiful, but also a complete anachronism. In Ridley Scott’s first Gladiator film, there was a goodly amount of rust-coloured dust under Crowe’s nails, and realistically average dental work. By comparison, Washington’s teeth looked indisputably Twentieth Century. 

Denzel Washington in Gladiator II (2024)

It made me wonder whether actors who make permanent changes to improve their looks will risk pulling us out of the historical roles they’re trying to play—given that, back then, people didn’t have the means to be so handsome. Or, perhaps we’ll just grow increasingly used to smooth foreheads and shiny, white smiles until we no longer notice the difference. For the sake of both art and accuracy, I hope not.  

It’s curious that these two things are happening in parallel: our desire for more unconventional handsomeness, alongside our interest in cosmetic and aesthetic perfection. Like a lot of things going on in the world right now, we appear to be in a cultural tug of war, grappling with what’s currently possible while simultaneously yearning for a time when it wasn’t. 

While I’m by no means resistant to the lure of perfectionism, I do hope that we continue to see interesting faces, wonky teeth and - for want of a better phrase - “real” men cast in big roles. I think Hollywood might be surprised how much more we connect to a flexed hand than a flexed muscle.

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