By sADAF AHSAN

This week’s newsletter is a guest post from smart and hilarious culture writer Sadaf Ahsan. She’s a freelance writer and editor and Humber College journalism instructor by day, and co-host of Frequency Podcasts’ The Reheat by night. Important to know: Sadaf has an unhealthy obsession with Tom Hanks, and kind readers have referred to her as a “propagandist,” “shady character,” “far leftist fraud,” and “kind of spunky-looking.” Follow her on Instagram and Twitter!

“Over the years, he became my father, husband, and very nearly God. Now he was gone, and I felt more alone and afraid than ever in my life.”

That’s how Priscilla Presley, in her 1985 memoir Elvis & Me, described her complicated relationship with the iconic musician, who met her and plucked her up in 1959, when she was just 14 years old, and he was 24.

Throughout their nearly two-decade relationship, Elvis molded his young beau into exactly who he wanted, down to the big hair, kohl-rimmed eyes and high heels. Although he dressed her up like a woman much older than her years, he nicknamed her things like “doll,” “baby” and, most often and cringingly, “little girl.” And even though he planned to marry her, he “preserved” her virginity until their wedding night.

The two would eventually divorce in 1973, after Priscilla began to realize just how little she’d been able to grow under his shadow. In her 2023 film Priscilla, writer and director Sofia Coppola brings this darker reality behind the legendary romance to the screen. Though she keeps it generally surface-level, a few things are clear: Elvis cast a tall shadow, he was charming, and oh so desirable. Everyone fantasized about him and being his girl. But winning that position? It wasn’t exactly a prize, and left Priscilla juggling a whole lot of daddy issues.

As far back as the 1950s—in real life and on-screen—we’ve seen the age-old age-gap trope play out, but it seems to have resurfaced over the past year, not only with Priscilla, but last year’s May December, the recent The Idea of You and the upcoming A Family Affair. 

The temptation around it all is clear: it’s hot to fantasize about age-gap dynamics, whether it’s your classic teacher-student or boss-employee, but it’s troubling when we remember that it’s the power imbalance that both turns us on and makes it all a little icky. So, in a post-#MeToo era, why do we keep revisiting this trope, is it okay to do so… and also to replay it all later, at night, in bed? (Ahem.)

There’s no denying that age-gap relationships are provocative. You really don’t need much more marketing once you’ve established that’s what you’re working with. Take The Idea of You, whose entire gist is that Anne Hathaway, a 40-year-old single mom, falls in love with a 24-year-old lead singer (Nicholas Galitzine) of a popular boy band (who her daughter happens to be a big fan of, natch), and the only thing standing between their instant, chemical, sexy love is their age difference. Which also seems to bother everyone else more than them. Hathaway’s character is, dare I say, dubbed a cougar on tabloid covers! And, of course, her kid is pissed.

The film marked a triumphant return to rom-coms for Hathaway, so it makes sense she’d be looking for a fresh spin. In this case, that’s getting to see the woman be the older party. The vast majority of films exploring this trope — Sabrina, Charade, Last Tango in Paris, Manhattan — place the XY chromosome in the older, power-playing position, so it’s bewitching as hell to see a woman get to take the more authoritative side here, even though when these tables are turned, it’s a little more complicated (ex. Are women ever really the ones in power? Galitzine’s character is a rich celebrity!).

Next up we have Netflix’s A Family Affair, which hits the streamer on June 28, and tells a very similar tale to The Idea of You: it follows Zara (Joey King), whose mother (Nicole Kidman) somehow falls in love with her former boss (a still square-jawed Zac Efron, leave him alone!). For reference, Kidman is 56, and Efron is 36. Now, these two have played kind-of lovers before, in 2012’s The Paperboy (which is not worth your time, aside from one scene featuring Kidman peeing on Efron after he’s stung by a jellyfish. Simply wonderful.).

I am assuming you, reader, are taking several minutes here to process this, and I do understand. But I also must say, I’m not mad! I liked watching the chemistry between these two in 2012, and I’m down to see it again. In fact, it’s the only thing motivating me to watch what I am sure will be Netflix’s latest hastily churned-out stinker. Which, like The Idea of You, is banking on this one big provocation to be enough to put asses in seats—or more accurately, behind screens.

And frankly, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. This trope, and particularly the older-woman iteration of it, seems to be catnip for Gen Z and millennials. The Idea of You is adapted from a novel of the same name by Robinne Lee, which was—controversially—inspired by Harry Styles and One Direction, among other 2010s boybands, which helps explain its popularity among these generations. Naturally, fans of the band and the book were crossing their fingers for a faithful film adaptation. Needless to say, they were overjoyed when Galitzine was even cast, having become a fan-favourite after starring in the YA adaptation Red, White & Royal Blue. They wanted it, they got it, with the film picking up a hefty 50 million viewers in just two weeks after it debuted on Amazon Prime in March. When it comes to The Idea of You, well, King, too, is a Gen Z favourite, while Efron still has something of a stronghold on millennials (or maybe just this millennial).

Let me speak for my community of age-gap adorers, and say, yeah, it does feel empowering to see an older woman romance a younger man, to see her get to be desired in the way women her own age really ever are on screen. It’s a joy to see her looked at through the awe-struck eyes of a pretty man who is good with his hands and can go a few rounds. It’s confirmation that, yes, even as we age, we can have it all, and that includes great sex with younger men eager to please.

For so long, we’ve been subjected to older men seducing younger women, plagued by the question: in what god-forsaken timeline does Woody Allen pull Mariel Hemingway?! (Or Meryl Streep, or Diane Keaton, but that’s another essay). The Graduate (1967) partially awakened my sexuality when I first watched it (with my dad, which hey, is also another essay!), showing me just how hot women can be at any age, and how pathetic and easy men can be at any age with a simple whiff of Chanel No. 5.

Some might find an older woman doing the seducing to be inappropriate. And the fact is, yes, it can be, just as it can be when it’s an older man robbing the cradle. But let’s be real, when and how these couples meet makes a difference, and just how big that gap is does, too. And taboos will always titillate. I know there’s a good number of you reading this right now thrilled by Game of Thrones’ incestuous love affairs. How do you sleep at night?!

Yes, taboos give us a guideline for what is and isn’t morally ethical. But when it comes to fiction, we’re allowed to explore those depths to our heart’s desire as long as they stay within those lines. And if we give that fictional space a close read, why shouldn’t it be open to everyone — older gals, too? Like, if we’re gonna do this, let’s go all the way.

Let me ruffle your feathers a little further: according to some studies, couples with age gaps actually experience significant satisfaction in their relationships as compared to those of similar ages. What could possibly be the draw? Well, a variance in age provides diverse perspective, it’s also new and fun, and offers space for exploration. For straight women, I can say the prospect of an older man suggests an employed man (!), who knows what he wants, and how to do exactly what I want in bed, because he’s been there before. He may have even been to therapy, my god. And I’m sure much of that draw is similar for younger men looking for older women: wisdom, confidence, experience. They can show us the world. A new fantastic point of view! A dazzling place I never knew!

But yes, there is the other side, too. If we toe the line too far, age-gap relationships can become predatory, with the older person taking advantage of the younger, more vulnerable party. An ill-fated dependence can grow. Consider one of the most famous real-life age-gap relationships currently occupying celebdom: Sam and Aaron Taylor-Johnson. The pair met on the set of 2009’s Nowhere Boy, directed by Sam, and starring Aaron. They have a 24-year age gap, and now share two daughters, along with Sam’s two daughters from a previous relationship.

Sam is regularly pilloried all over social media by Aaron’s fans, who have dubbed her a predator monstrously leeching off his youthfulness. Still, the two have been together for 15 years, with a thriving family. Earlier this year, the director said to The Guardian, “After 14 years, you just think, surely by now it doesn’t really matter?”

The thing is, it’s hard for it to not matter. Because yes, while I am aroused by the idea of an older woman with a younger man, that hits a wall when that woman pursues said man when he is only 18, and she is his boss, and he becomes a father as a teenager. All these years later, who am I to say of their current predicament? What I do know is it’s okay to have fantasies, but these fantasies can become a very different thing when played out in real life.

Consider actor Florence Pugh who, until recently, was dating actor Zach Braff; the two have a 21-year age gap but, even more startling, he shares an uncanny resemblance to Pugh’s father. And then there’s noted predator Leonardo DiCaprio, who can’t even hide behind his once youthful face anymore as he devours one 20-something model after another, never to be satiated.

Like Priscilla, it’s easy to see how Pugh, Taylor-Johnson or any one of these models could see their partners as both lovers and pseudo parental figures, god and idol-like. So perhaps that’s the risk; movies like The Idea of You risk normalizing a dicey dynamic.

This is easier to make sense of when we talk celebrities, but it’s the same for us normals, too. I used to have crushes on my professors because I was turned on first and foremost by the way they could hold the attention of an entire classroom, projecting their seemingly insurmountable sexy knowledge. In reality, when I one day kissed a much older Catholic girls’ high-school teacher (who was not mine!) on a dimly lit Brooklyn curb in an effort to play out my long-held fantasy, he was clumsy, vaguely sad and I felt embarrassed for him. He even tasted like cheap coffee. Just like that, his power over me dissipated, because we had both stepped over the invisible line.

Just a few days ago, I encountered a beautiful man on a dating app, just about five years younger than me, who informed me that, like the daddy issues I perhaps foolishly noted on my profile, he has mommy issues. They don’t have the best relationship, he explained, and are estranged now. But, he digressed, he’d love it if I’d be down to slap him or spit on or stomp on him, punish him, and tell him what to do. Was I titillated? Absolutely. Did I pursue it? No, because the idea of it all was enough for me; putting it all into practice was, well, too much and too real. I didn’t want to be anyone’s almighty god. But that’s just me.

So, what is the moral of the story? It’s complicated! But for you, reader, I wish healthy, deep, vibrant fantasies. There is no harm in exploring taboos when there’s no flesh in the game. Just remember that it can get icky and messy when it all gets real. Play it safe, wear protection—and avoid Zach Braff at all costs.

And Did You Hear About…

Bee Quammie’s excellent reflection on Gaza and motherhood.

The artistic references in Interview with a Vampire.

The Ringer’s analysis of Will Smith’s career, what changed after ‘The Slap’—and what didn’t.

Anne T. Donahue’s spot-on Brad Pitt take.

All the bad dogs of TikTok. (Especially this one.)

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