The People Magazine "Sexiest Man" issue is the swimsuit issue for the hair salon crowd. Year after year, this rag serves up the usual assortment of chiseled jaws, moussed hair, and six-pack abs to bring us an entirely predictable assortment of pretty boys (no matter how hard Johnny Depp tries to hide his looks behind the kind of fashion no other straight guy could pull off).
A few years ago, I had the idea to put out a "hunks of the left" calendar, which would feature the kind of guys towards whom we more cerebral gals gravitate. It never got off the ground, largely because I am too lazy to contact publicists asking for permission, research about fee structures and publishing and such. But today Salon takes a stab at some less predictable swoonworthy guys, such as:
- John Amaechi ("Amaechi's self-deprecation is beyond refreshing -- it's hot. Combine that with a British accent, a sharp sense of humor, a delightfully screwy dental structure, and a history of vocal opposition to the National Rifle Association, and you've got my vote for the gay male heartthrob of the year.")
- Ira Glass ("He could be all nerdy self-deprecation and we'd still be hot for him, but what's sexy about Glass is that he seems to know damn well how sexy he is: He's relaxed, he's genial, and he gazes at the camera with a directness that could bore a hole right into you.")
- Jeffrey Wright ("He's the actor whose depth and intelligence are no mere performance, the sex symbol with a degree in political science. With his slightly freckly face, deep brown eyes and rich, throaty purr of a voice, Wright never fights for your attention. He just smiles enigmatically and knows you'll give it anyway.")
- Sean Penn ("But not only is Sean Penn sexier with a mustache -- have you seen the style of mustache that Sean Penn has the massive cojones to walk out the door wearing? I've seen Sean Penn in magazines, his twisted mug in that semi-smile/semi-glower, staring lazily at the camera through squinty eyes with a pencil-thin Zorro clinging daintily to the ridge of his upper lip. Are you kidding me? Absolutely nobody should be able to do that. It would be like me, a half Jew, tugging on a pair of cowboy boots, perhaps the most fashion-risky footwear to tread the earth since the moccasin.")
- Flight of the Conchords (Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement) ("A guy with a guitar is hot. A guy with an accent is hot. And a guy who can make us laugh is really, really hot. What, then, could be better than a man who embodies all of the above? Two men who do.")
- Peter Sarsgaard ("That wan smile of his blossoms easily into a goofy grin, and his signature murmur can shift quickly from soothing to menacing. He comes off as familiar, but also mysterious, in performances that are always layered and subtly intense.")
...and a choice that made me grin from ear to ear. It was a deep, dark secret that I kept during the days I was reviewing movies, because for some reason, Anthony Lane was regarded in the online critical circles in which I travelled as some kind of poseur. But for me, Lane was often THE reason to read The New Yorker (at least until Sy Hersh started pulling the veneer off the Bush Administration with a vengeance). If there's one thing hotter than a ferociously smart and funny and snarky New York Jew (see also: Sam Seder and Marc Maron, who were selected to appear on the HOTL calendar), it's a ferociously smart and funny and snarky English guy. The combination of Wildean bon mots, British humor, and cheekbones like cheese graters is the stuff of which weak knees are made. And he's straight! And while more recent photos don't look at all like this, in his book jacket still, he even looks like Lord Alfred Douglas as played by Jude Law.
The only other reviewers who ever made me laugh as hard at their writing are Paul Rudnick in Libby Gelman-Waxner drag, Vern, and Stephen Himes. the man on the Salon staff who selected Lane for this list of sexy men for thinking people, chose the following to illustrate the Lanean criticism universe:
"Widening her eyes to maximum chocolatey hue, she stares into his, which are of that sea-cold, grayish blue favored by Gestapo officers in war movies … In a last, despairing gesture to Georgian England, they do not kiss. Oddly, however, they do rub noses, like well-bred Eskimos, while the rising sun gleams between the tips."
My own list would contain people like:
Joseph Wilson: Tall, handsome, brave, age-appropriate. Is there anything sexier than a guy who'll take on to the right-wing noise machine to defend the honor of his wife? Add to that the swashbuckle of someone badass enough to stand up to Saddam Hussein and you have a kind of real-life James Bond who's also a loyal family man. And he has awesome hair, too.
Thomas Doerflein: We all know that we tend to go weak-kneed for glum, soulful types. But when the glum, soulful type spends almost a year of his life living at the zoo at which he works to hand-rear a polar bear club, the combination of brooding, nurturing, and cuteness is enough to make the cranium explode.
Carlos Delgado: Sure, he had a shitty year. But this is a guy who made a political statement about the Iraq War when it was actually dangerous for someone to do so, particularly when wearing a baseball uniform. A stand-up guy who never blamed anyone else for his failings this season, he's also gorgeous in that way that you don't notice until he's finished reading the teleprompter so dead-on that it looks like his eyes are boring into your soul. Then it's like a sledgehammer to the back of the head.
That's just a few of mine. Who would YOU put on YOUR list? Or if you're a guy, who would you like to be?
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