I think the central question facing all of us is to be the “I” that you really are. I just watched a great movie, Sebastian (2024), about a successful young writer who is also a sex worker. He writes about his experiences in the third person and tells his editors that his stories, wonderfully vivid and prize-winning, are based on interviews. His editor keeps urging him to write in the first person, to become the “I” of the narrator of his stories. His stories read as if he has experienced everything he describes himself. It is finally his repeated encounters with an older man, a literary scholar with whom he falls in love, who convinces him to write about, but also to lead, his own life as himself. The film ends as his first novel is received with acclaim.
“Sebastian” has the best depiction of lovemaking between an older and a younger man that I have seen so far in my search for the source of the “Daddy love” clip on our HaPenis site. The many other sex scenes in the movie as Max/Sebastian plies his trade are great but not outstanding.
But the very best thing about the movie for me is that it poses the question that keeps coming up over and over in our conversations with each other in the HaPenis Project: Who am “I”? So many of us are leading multiple lives.
Don’t you just want to be only who you really are, a homosexual man who loves having sex with men and maybe has found or is still searching for the man, the God, of his dreams? Don’t you long to act and speak and have sex and make love as just “I”?
It’s widely available for streaming. AJ
I’d like to add that “Sebastian” is a very romanticised, Oxbridge/Harvard-educated homosexual’s portrait of a male sex worker. Last night I spent a most amazing three hours talking and making love with a man who was abandoned by this parents when he was ten, taken into the house of an older man who taught him about sex and held sex parties with his friends every Friday, with the boy as the centere of attraction. My new friend became a sex worker and a drug addict when his “father/daddy” died when he was 18. He finally pulled himself together, moved to the city where I live in, and is now (at the age of 43) studying to become a nurse, having sex of all kinds (SM, bondage, fisting, etc.) with whoever asks on Planet Romeo, but longing most of all for the kind of naked, relaxed, intimate, hugging, caressing, full-bodied, story-sharing encounter we both enjoyed together so much last night. His tenderness, his openness about himself, his longing for and appreciation of what I wanted and was able to give him are unforgettable. His story could be turned into a very different, and I think a much more profound, film about a juvenile male sex worker who becomes a “man,” an extraordinary one, than “Sebastian.”