Forty thousand Romeos: what have become the heroes-lovers of our days

One hundred years ago, when Rudolph Valentino died, one hundred thousand fans took to the streets of Manhattan to see their common lover off. There were reports of inconsolable female fans committing suicide. The windows of the funeral home were smashed in an attempt to snuggle up to the body of the idol, so the riots had to be dealt with by the police.

With the beginning of the era of cinema, the world was mesmerized by electric dreams, ephemeral images, and not the least among them – the figure of the hero-lover. Their appearance and type changed: after languid Valentino came ironic Clark Gable, in the war reigned stern Humphrey Bogart. James Dean seductively rebelled for no reason. Alain Delon and Paul Newman cast cold blue eyes. Richard Gere and Mel Gibson could smile like no one else. But something they all had in common. They were more than just the best of their kind: they were idols. And, like idols in the temple, were elevated and separated by an invisible barrier from us, the profane. The movie lovers of the twentieth century were not the object of plausible fantasies, but rather a Platonic idea of a partner, an inherent dream.

The art of cinematography is over a century old, and increasingly it’s being said that the era of superstars has passed. They’re still in the ranks, the latest heroes. Brad Pitt is looking quite chipper. In a creepy way at the seventh decade does not lose boyishness Tom Cruise. On the periphery is still not divided with the image of a bad guy Johnny Depp. Starts new girlfriends DiCaprio, drops and gains pounds on the team Christian Bale. And so on. But they make an impression, so to speak, by inertia, by seniority. Now that feeling of frenzied, rapturous adoration is no longer instilled by anyone.

It’s funny to say: in the 2010s, it seemed that the concept of a sex symbol had faded into oblivion. Somehow no one applied for the position. In 2015, former model Jamie Dornan tried to establish himself by starring as Christian Grey in Fifty Shades of Grey. It would have been better if he had not done it; it turned out both sweet and clumsy, but certainly not sexy, with all the cuteness of Dornan. Partly, I guess, it’s his ability, but not only that. It was also because the role itself, the image of a spoiled and authoritarian millionaire heartthrob with a wounded heart – among many other images of former masculinity – was recognized as toxic. And hopelessly outdated, like a greased pompadour on his head.

Closest to the old type of one-man idol, however, approached Timothy Chalamet. The very trajectory of his movement to fame, swing, ambition repeat the paths of former superstars. Chalamet is now landing one major role after another. He has rapidly entered the top league of Hollywood on fees: his contracts are now counted in eight-digit figures. More importantly, Timothy has taken a taste for exploiting the familiar image of the universal object of desire. His list of recent roles – Paul Atrides, Bob Dylan, Marty the Magnificent – is a series of narcissistic, unapproachable handsome men with a complex character, which seem to outline his own temperament. In between shooting Shalame himself likes to let the arrogance and snobbery: recently he said that ballet and opera are hopelessly outdated, scandalizing the entire art community.

At the same time, it’s obvious that Shalame is also part of the new world, and the most obvious reason is his appearance. He is, for a minute, already thirty, but he does not think to get out of the image of not only a young man – a college boy with a barely penetrated mustache. A couple of years ago, the New York Times dubbed such a type “noodle boy”, or in Russian, “macaroni boy”, skinny, lanky, androgynous even, without a hint of biceps. With Shalame, Finn Wolfhard from “Stranger Things” and Mark Eidelstein from “Anora” share the hearts of the fans here.

Noodle boys, of course, have been around before: just think of the young DiCaprio, Depp or Rivera Phoenix. But now these eternal boys have become part of a great new wave of diverse male images, which are united by one main attitude: security and intimacy. No longer is machismo powdered with softness needed. On the contrary, they ask for softness, in which, so be it, throw a pinch of some hot brutality. But only as a seasoning!

The perfect dish in this flavor can be considered Jacob Elordi. After his success in the series Euphoria, he consistently wowed everyone in Saltburn, Priscilla, Frankenstein and Wuthering Heights and became even stronger than Chalamet as the epitome of the hero-lover.

And all his characters – as a selection, people not too pleasant: angry teenagers, selfish majors, narcissistic rock stars. Another one is a monster made of pieces of corpses. At the same time, almost two-meter giant Elordi in life – a perfect kitty, confidingly shares in interviews how in school he was fond of makeup, likes handbags to carry books and trinkets in case he gets bored, tells how he was fond of the “Ninja Turtles”. The Internet has dubbed this type of character “babygirl.” This contrast is pleasing and relaxing: a man in touch with his inner “girl”, not afraid to appear weak or ridiculous, and at the same time confident in his attractiveness, makes an impression. In the end, Elordi is sexy even in the ugly costume of Frankenstein’s monster.

However, everyone here knows that under the mask is Apollo. Another trend thrown into the internet in 2024 was “Hot rodent”. “Hot rodent” – not in the sense of a dish of exotic cuisine, but a category of actors somewhat resembling a rat or a mouse: thinness, bony face, beady eyes, big nose, ears, strange look. Ruffled hair is desirable. The most obvious of the “rodents” – Barry Keoghan (“Banshee Inisherina”). Adam Driver (“Paterson”), Jeremy Allen White (“The Bear”), Harris Dickinson (“Triangle of Sadness”) and Josh O’Connor (“The Crown”). Let’s not forget Glen Powell (“The Running Man”), whose combination of looks and popularity remains one of the internet’s great mysteries. No doubt, the comparison with a rodent is questionable, but these actors really do exude sexiness. It seems that the point here is this: conventional beauty over the years has also earned a reputation as a conservative-patriarchal red flag. Toxic beauties are hidden behind the armor of their invulnerable attractiveness. The nervous, misshapen face of a Keoghan or Driver reflects emotion, empathy, life. It makes them lively, vulnerable men, and thus the epitome of a desirable partner.

No, of course, there is room for more familiar movie heroes. These are the same Paul Mescal, Austin Butler, as if they came out of the movies of the 90s with their pumped-up bodies and determined charisma. But the balance of power has changed imperceptibly: if earlier such a version of brutal male beauty meant power, literally forced viewers to look, obey, fall in love – now, on the contrary, they exist for the “female gaze”, female gaze. Men have finally learned to objectify; they don’t mind.

It’s interesting how older actors have fitted into this new system. Pedro Pascal, Colin Farrell, Oscar Isaac – those in their fifties – are on the rise. Why do Zoomer audiences like them? They seem to hit the image of the sexy neighbor, the hot daddy. If there are “milfs,” there must be “dildos…” Again, the same principle: safety, kindness, sensitivity, respect for boundaries.

Of course, don’t be fooled: Hollywood is still the steel claw of the entertainment industry, not a dating site. The fact that the heroes-lovers are off the pedestal, no longer alpha males and seem to be simple and nice guys, does not cancel the construction of images. Now, perhaps, the creation of a star’s image is an even more complex mechanism than in the pre-internet era. It used to consist of roles, interviews and photo shoots. Today, you need to be constantly present on social media; a natural look is created by meticulous skin care, fillers, and filters. Yes, you can be yourself a little more, but this naturalness also flies into the furnace of publicity. But it creates a feeling of incredible democratism.

The time of living gods like Valentino is over. Now the ideal hero-lover has split into many localized ones: for everyone to enjoy, for all tastes. What’s next? They’ll probably get even closer, more accessible, hotter. Neural networks indefinitely individualize the images of sex symbols, adjusting them personally to us. Erasing the unnecessary, all too human noise. Guessing our needs, fears, hopes. Just reach out and there he is – understanding. Beautiful. Exciting. Yours alone.