The Danish film “Sauna” (Amazon Affiliate Link) by Mathias Broe is now available on DVD, less than three months after its theatrical release. If you’ve somehow missed it until now, this is your chance to watch it — not because it’s stunningly brilliant, but because it tackles a range of timely queer topics and can sting a bit with a closer look.
To recap the plot briefly: Johan (played by Magnus Juhl Andersen) is young, blond, fit, and makes a strong impression in Copenhagen’s gay scene. He works nights in the men’s bathhouse “Adonis” and regularly hooks up with strangers through Grindr. One day, William arrives at his apartment. At first, everything unfolds as usual, but after a few minutes Johan realizes that William is trans and has not yet undergone gender-affirming surgery.
Coming Out, Chosen Families, Body Image
“Sauna” centers on everything that matters to queer people in one form or another. It explores reactions to coming out within one’s own family, chosen families, identity formation, body image, sexual fulfillment, solidarity, and loyalty. Along the way, the film reveals large, persistent contradictions that many people live with daily. Choices may appear voluntary, but quite often they’re made because the situation is complicated.
Johan knows how to use his appearance to his advantage. He generally lands the top he’s seeking for the evening. Yet inside, there’s more going on. He asks one date to stay over, but the date declines and leaves. In a later, quiet, well-written moment about adolescent love for a best friend, there’s a similar sentiment: I’m seeking security, but even more so intimacy—the feeling of merging with someone. Physically, as well, but not only that.
Sex in the Gay Bathhouse Is Not Intimate
Sex dates are playful, there’s no question about that. Gay bathhouses offer an exciting adventure, a deluxe dopamine- and endorphin-fueled rush. But they are exactly that: an adventure. A place to explore sexual fantasies, to test ourselves, and often the space between the first eye contact and the final act is measured in seconds. The problem arises when people misread this as intimacy. If what you’re seeking is true closeness, you shouldn’t go there. The sex there is not intimate. It’s anonymous, it’s thrilling, and it’s aimed at the orgasm. If you don’t understand that, the emptiness afterward can feel worse than before you entered the bathhouse.
Johan coping with his parents’ rejection of his sexuality relies on precisely these dynamics. In the end, it’s a hamster wheel he’s running on. That’s why William’s openness about his gender identity — he even lists it in his Grindr profile — excites him so much. Johan overlooked it and simply filtered for looks, as he’s used to doing.
In theory, the bathhouse is supposed to be a safe space, a place where everything is okay. In practice, it’s incredibly elitist. The men there embody the classic, idealized masculine image. Patrons with physical quirks are met with contempt, and let’s be honest: how often have we all wondered, before a visit, whether we’ll be okay today or risk embarrassing ourselves?
“Here, Men Have Sex with Men”
The moment of embarrassment also comes for William. Even though he enters the Adonis as Johan’s companion, confident, curious, and in good spirits, he’s expelled quite quickly. “Here, men have sex with men” — a line that is, on one hand, grossly discriminatory against trans men, and, on the other, a betrayal of Johan, who works there and clearly cannot bring his partner because he doesn’t fit the schema. That they both identify as gay becomes almost a secondary concern.
William is compelled to confront the central question: when is a man truly a man? Is he a man as soon as he defines himself as such, or only after he undergoes gender-affirming surgeries? The surgeries themselves present a major obstacle. It isn’t just financial stress, though William has wealthy parents who support his trans identity; the legal barriers are the bigger hurdle. According to an evaluator, a trans man can’t be gay. And it remains unclear to what extent William plans to go through with every procedure — to please himself, or to appease society, hoping for a bit less hate.
The Pressure to Perform Perfectly
Within the queer community, there’s a pervasive pressure to perform flawlessly. If one has faltered in sexuality and/or gender, then every other aspect — job, looks, money, intelligence, success — must compensate. “Okay, he’s gay, but otherwise he’s exemplary.” That mindset creates enormous stress, both outside and inside the community. Yet the core wish for most people remains simple: to be loved for who they are, without having to strain for it.
When Johan and William’s chemistry intensifies, Johan blindsides himself by quickly sleeping with several men in a sling at the Adonis, or by chasing a wealthy “Daddy” and taking up a second job as a call boy. Rejection has already shown up in those essential moments — by his parents — so the chosen partner cannot fall into the same trap. If he does, there’s no mourning; there’s overcompensation. He acts as if nothing can hurt him, tries to control his feelings, and distracts himself in the moment, only to deal with self-harm the next day.
Direct link | Official German trailer |
An Authentic Film
Relationships demand a lot of work, deep self-reflection, and a great deal of dialogue. Both characters carry exceedingly heavy emotional baggage, which makes their connection more difficult. It’s all the more important that they bring understanding to one another and scrutinize themselves with the same intensity. Old wounds must be addressed, or they’ll be carried forever. Trying to care more about a partner’s problems can feel easier, but it’s not always constructive.
“Sauna” offers no neat, prescriptive answers or tips. Instead, it presents a candid, unsensational portrayal of many everyday situations, with a quiet, honest performance that subtly hints at inner turmoil. It doesn’t shy away from uncomfortable topics, including the use of a laxative or the insertion of sex toys, which makes it feel approachable and relatable. Between these scenes, there’s also a sense that sex can be liberating and enjoyable, but the drive to perform can come at a very high price.
Sauna. Drama. Denmark 2025. Director: Mathias Broe. Cast: Magnus Juhl Andersen, Nina Rask, Dilan Amin, Klaus Tange, Peter Oliver Hansen. Runtime: 105 minutes. Language: Danish-Swedish original version with English subtitles. Rating: 16+. Salzgeber. Available on DVD and VoD
Sauna
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