This Week

• It’s patriotic to be this thirsty.

• Check out this sexy new movie. 

• The week’s most heartwarming story.

• The rise of the fun bad movie.

• My spiritual sisters.

Meet All of My Husbands and Wives 

The Olympics crush is a very special relationship. 

It’s a beautiful, oh-so-brief phenomenon, an enthusiastic fling brought on by the rare combination of patriotism and abject horniness. It is both obvious—would you believe the best athletes in the world have rockin’ bods?—and profound: The superficiality of it all is wrapped in awe over their talent. It’s like swooning over a superhero. No mortal should be capable of what they accomplish; and also, goddamn are they hot. 

There’s a trueness, a nobility, that we project on Olympians by virtue of the fact that they are Olympians. I don’t presume to know whether or not these people are truly good. The assumption is part of the fantasy. Yet what’s also unique about the Olympic crush is that, earnest as that assumption may be, the infatuation is by no means puritanical. As important as the moral upstanding we assign these athletes is the certainty that they f***. 

People are obsessed with the sex lives of Olympians. Especially when they’re envisioning the Olympians having sex with them. 

The transience of the Olympic crush is also key. For two weeks, they will be all we think about and drool over. When the games are over, they’re gone, and along with them any lingering shame to be had over the objectification and lust—the carnal, feral lust—we succumbed to for a fortnight. 

Who leads the ranks of Olympic crushes, Paris edition? 

Listen, we’re only human. That French diver and his bulge… Obviously Jules Bouyer has occupied every waking thought—and many sleeping ones—I’ve had this week. C’mon. He’s a handsome diver who has gone viral for the size of his package in his Speedo…and he’s French!

I’m going to continue by fully embracing our basic bitch nature and join my fellow gays on the internet by simply pointing out, “Hey, here’s a hot athlete! Enjoy!” In that spirit, may I introduce you to Canadian gymnast William Émard? 

There are plenty of options to thirst over from Team USA’s swimming roster, but I’ve fallen deeply in love with Bobby Finke, who not only looks like he could have played a high schooler in a WB drama while I was a teenager, but, according to NBC’s clip package, has an incredibly endearing relationship with his family. We love a nice guy-hot guy! Plus, he’s a long distance swimmer, so you know he has endurance.

Like most people, I’m charmed by Tom Daley, his enthusiasm for the sport of diving, and his hobby of knitting sweaters while in the stands watching his teammates. I’m also mystified by his ability to defy the laws of physics with the size of his Speedos. How can they be *that small* without him mooning the entire world? He also wins points for recreating the iconic Titanic scene while serving as the UK’s flag bearer during the opening ceremony.

When is the Nobel Prize being awarded to the designer of Dutch swimmer’s Arno Kamminga’s suit?

For sheer badassery, we must, of course, mention Brazilian surfer Gabriel Medina, who celebrated riding the perfect wave by posing while in midair, looking like he’s floating through the sky. 

Team USA’s gymnastic squad are collective Olympics crushes for me. They are my husbands, my wives, my children, my mothers, my daddies. As a nerd enthusiast, I’m giddy over the viral moment Stephen Nedorosick is having. But for the sheer joy these 10 athletes have brought me this week, I can’t single out just one. 

Ever since photos of her in competition spread across my social media timeline, I haven’t stopped thinking about South Korean pistol shooter Kim Yeji. I don’t love guns, obviously. But she just looks so…cool.

I feel a spiritual connection with Italian gymnast Giorgia Villa who is literally sponsored by parmesan cheese, and therefore does photo shoots in which she is posing with and embracing giant wheels of parm. I’ve never been more jealous.

Then there’s my ultimate talent crush: Katie Ledecky. She won her 13th medal this week, becoming the most decorated female Olympian in U.S. history. That, and she can swim with a glass of chocolate milk on her head:

Finally, there’s Carlos Alcaraz, forever my mouth-breathing king. This crush is perennial, not just Olympic-timed, but was sweetened this past week because of his doubles partnership with legend Rafael Nadal. The two of them passionately embracing each other may or may not have been something I’ve dreamed about once. 

A Small (Steamy) Gem of a Movie 

As much progress as there has been made in queer cinema, it’s still thrilling—and somewhat surprising—to see a movie about a gay man’s experience that acknowledges that sex exists. 

In Sebastian, sex, in fact, is the point. 

The film, written and directed by Mikko Makela, steamed up the snow banks in Park City when it first premiered at the Sundance Film Festival in January. (It’s now officially in theaters.) It stars spellbinding newcomer Ruaridh Mollica as Max, an aspiring young gay writer living in London who makes extra money as an escort. 

He markets himself on an escort site as Sebastian, an alter ego that makes him more comfortable on his sex dates with typically older, out-of-shape, and sometimes aggressive men. Because everything is copy, Max uses his exploits as Sebastian as material for a novel he’s writing—though he passes it all off as fiction.

What surfaces are fascinating questions about both sex and storytelling in a modern era. Max’s novel strips the idea of shame and trauma from sex work, reflecting shifting attitudes in the age of OnlyFans. But as Max starts to manufacture juicier, more scandalous encounters in order to make “Sebastian’s story” more compelling in his novel, the idea of fact, fiction, and autobiography are all blurred—along with Max’s notion of his own mental health. 

Then, with the film’s onslaught of frank sex scenes, it’s impossible to watch the film without wondering how its depiction of gay sex, specifically, might change the industry and drive conversations. 

It’s a movie that I love to recommend, because there’s so much to talk about. (Plus, a lot of it is really hot!) I interviewed Makela and Mollica back when the film premiered at Sundance. Read our conversation here.

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Cleanup: Tears Spilled in Aisle 5

In general, I feel like the world could use a huge, relieving, heartwarming “aww.” Sometimes the internet is actually good, and it delivered a massively uplifting emotional swoon this week. 

Remember early in the pandemic when we were all obsessed with the ’90s game show Supermarket Sweep, after it became available to stream on Netflix? For me—and apparently many others—that obsession never waned. 

Actor and pop culture enthusiast Tom Zohar posted on X a photo of Sweep contestants Tim and Mark, captioning it, “I love watching old episodes of Supermarket Sweep because these two just said they’re ‘business partners’ who ‘design sets for plays’ and I’m like oh I’m sure.”

Well, Tim tracked Tom down, updating him that he and Mark, in fact, were more than business partners: They’ve been together 41 years and, 25 of them as husbands after same-sex marriage became legal in 2008.

The sheer niceness of this feel-good internet story only intensified when Slate’s Dan Kois interviewed Tim and Mark, learning their life story—and their love story—which involves a twist that M. Night Shyamalan would be jealous of. Read it here. (And when you’re done, read a similarly sweet Where Are They Now? interview I did with former Sweep contestants Brandon and Kevin here.)

The Rise of the Bad Movie Good Movie 

I recently had the time of my life watching Twisters, which was one of the worst movies I’ve ever seen. 

Soon after, I had the time of my life watching Deadpool & Wolverine, which, again, was one of the worst movies I’ve ever seen. 

It’s an interesting phenomenon. It used to be easy to just dismiss the summer blockbuster abominations that were so bad you couldn’t be bothered with them. 

Now, and with these two movies especially, there’s a tension: They were undeniably fun to watch, even while being unable to escape the glaring truth that they were terrible in every way, from the plot to the writing to, in most cases, the performances. (Glen Powell and Channing Tatum, respectively: You are absolved in this.) 

On the one hand, when there are movies like these that everyone, myself included, is going to flock to see regardless of quality, at least they’re enjoyable. On the other hand, what if a summer blockbuster was actually good? I’ll keep you posted after I see M. Night Shyamalan’s Trap this weekend.

My Personal Olympics Vibe

As I continue to make watching the Olympics my entire personality for the next week, I am inspired by this clip from one of my favorite accounts on X: kathie lee and hoda no context, which posts videos from the greatest television of our lifetime—Kathie Lee Gifford and Hoda Kotb’s fourth hour of Today—you guessed it, without context.

In the clip, Kathie Lee and Hoda march into Rockefeller Plaza to talk about the 2012 Olympics with giant glasses of wine thrust in the air, as if they were Olympic torches. It’s perfect—exactly on brand for them…and for me. 

More From The Daily Beast’s Obsessed 

• With snoozy Carrie Underwood replacing Katy Perry on American Idol, a reminder of how fun Perry was on that show. Read more.
• How The Real Housewives of Dubai is rescuing Bravo from its dark and toxic era. Read more.
• Team USA’s gymnasts are saving me from all the American insanity. Read more.

• Trap: A win for Josh Hartnett is a win for all of us. (Now in theaters)

• Cuckoo: You gotta love a film that lives up to its name. (Now in theaters)

• Kneecap: The answer to the question, “What if we made an Irish version of 8 Mile?” (Now in theaters)

• The Instigators:A movie this star-studded shouldn’t be such a dud. (Now in theaters)

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