Maspalomas: After This Film, I’m Less Afraid of Aging as a Gay Man

Just before my 30th birthday, I was asked whether I was looking forward to my “gay death.” It was obviously a joke, something I could chuckle at a bit, but there was more truth to it than one might think. It’s no accident that there are disproportionately many 29-year-olds on all the apps.

There is a fear of aging, and among gay men, it seems to me, that fear begins even earlier. The mainstream often makes life difficult for us. But among ourselves we make life hard for each other.

Youthful beauty fades with every gray hair

You could easily attribute the reason to gay superficialities. We are strict with each other, and we are strict with ourselves. Depending on role, depending on preference, a thick bicep matters, a flat stomach, full hair, but only in the right places.

Youthfulness is an ideal that recedes with every crease. The more gray hairs we have, the more youthful beauty fades — until seemingly nothing of it remains. Those who don’t fit the pattern get swiped away. To devalue others elevates oneself. In a society that constantly devalues us, that should not be surprising.

I think, however, that this superficiality only partly explains gay anxiety about aging. Another reason: there are few role models. We hardly have positive or at least authentic images of gay men over 60.

It’s been a while since a friend asked me why you see so few older gay couples, even in Cologne. I had to give it some thought. For several reasons: thousands of them who could be enjoying retirement today died in the 1980s and 1990s from AIDS. We lost them. An epidemic that decimated the queer community — and that trauma still lingers.

Fear of aging, because role models are missing

Moreover, countless other men, who today would stroll hand in hand through a park as retirees, never came out. Because they feared their parents’ reactions, their colleagues’, society’s. And because they had to live in worry—not only morally but also legally: anyone who is now 76 would have lived under the Nazi-era Paragraph 175 until age 19. And even then the law remained in effect, though softened.

We see so few gay seniors in everyday life because many never grew old or never could come out. It’s no wonder that many fear aging when they have no image of what aging can look like. One’s own grandfathers are rarely role models for a thriving gay life.

Queer over 65: Almost invisible

Of course there are exceptions, from Karl Lagerfeld to Klaus Wowereit. Yet even in public life, gay men in retirement hardly figure. The same goes for films and TV shows. For a long time there’s been, rightly, lamenting that there are fewer roles for aging actresses. And the ones that exist are one-dimensional — and rarely lead roles.

And sexuality in old age rarely takes center stage. There seems to be no bigger taboo. That also explains the enthusiastic reception when, in 2008, the film “Wolke 9” (Cloud 9) hit theaters, which explored the intimacy and passion of a couple over 60. The same goes for gay seniors and queers over 65 in general: They are all but invisible.

Desire is not weaker than at 20

And with that, we come to “Maspalomas”: In the Spanish drama from directing duo Jose Mari Goenaga and Aitor Arregi, it follows the 76-year-old Vicente, living on Gran Canaria. He has recently separated and is savoring his new freedom in the dunes of Maspalomas.

The film presents this in the best possible sense without shame: who cares that his skin isn’t tight anymore, that he has a belly? The desire is there, and it’s not any weaker than that of a 20-year-old.

Of course, this is utopian, and not everywhere would a man like Vicente be so readily beckoned in the dim light of a backroom as depicted here. But the message matters. And representation doesn’t have to be realistic to help.

Representation matters — at any age

After a stroke, the senior is placed in a nursing home. It’s a break with his life, because he doesn’t speak of his homosexuality there. It’s a sexless place, and his roommate is a macho. Yet the camera remains dynamic, circling Vicente (José Ramón Soroiz). The images convey that there is still strength and joy in life, even if Vicente has to rediscover them.

Cinema opens windows onto unknown worlds. It shapes our perception and influences how we see our surroundings and ourselves. That is why representation is so important. And that is why a film like “Maspalomas” is so valuable.

The film lets us imagine aging

“Maspalomas” shows that gay sexuality does not have to end at any age, that it can still be fulfilling, that desire continues to hold a high place, that cruising can be thrilling, that one can be desired and yearn to be desired. There are setbacks, too, but you can recover and rejoin life.

This is important for gay seniors who can see their own challenges on the big screen. And it’s important for younger generations who realize that many age clichés don’t have to apply. Vicente could be a role model — or at least a corrective.

The drama offers a positive image of gay life beyond 70. An image that can help people picture their own aging. Thanks to “Maspalomas,” I now fear growing old less.