The Mature Romance Blossomed on TV This Year

Even on television, first love isn’t always equated with everlasting love, and 2023 celebrated couples in their fifties, sixties, and seventies taking a later-in-life leap across various settings and centuries. A will-they/won’t-they doesn’t lose its sparkle with characters of a certain age, and horniness doesn’t have an expiration on shows like Only Murders in the Building and Julia. Hearts already bearing the scars and baggage from previous relationships add layers to some of this year’s most memorable match-ups.

Although age doesn’t always mean experience, and in the case of The Gilded Age, spinsterhood is no longer the defining feature one person thought it would be. In the second season of Our Flag Means Death, Ed (Taika Waititi) and Stede’s (Rhys Darby) romance blooms, depicting a middle-aged coming-out narrative that underscores it is never too late for a personal discovery.

Given how central marriage plots are to a period setting like The Gilded Age, it is hardly surprising when wedding bells ring. What the HBO series does that subverts expectations is give forever-single Ada Brook (Cynthia Nixon) a chance at marital happiness — no matter how brief. Whereas Nixon’s turn as Miranda Hobbes on Sex and the City, followed by And Just Like That…, includes an array of relationship commitments (including the divisive Che pairing) and one-off hookups, Ada’s singledom is a given.

“It would seem a poor return after all these years if you were to desert me now,” her older sister Agnes van Rhijn (Christine Baranski) sneers when talking of Ada’s potential courtship with kindly reverend Luke Forte (Robert Sean Leonard). Instead of congratulating her, Agnes responds to Ada’s engagement with a cruel attempt at keeping her in the single box: “You’re a spinster, and you’ve always been a spinster.”

Whereas Miranda’s sexual encounters are shown in all their strap-on and outdoor sex glory before getting dissected over brunch, the spiciest activity Ada gets up to is illicit strolls through Central Park and an art exhibition rendezvous she hides from her judgmental sister. The Gilded Age is undoubtedly entertaining but engages in more eye-banging than actual sex scenes. The closest it gets in the second season to bodice ripping is when twentysomething Larry Russell (Harry Richardson) engages in a brief but saucy affair with widow Mrs. Blane (Laura Benanti), whose house he is remodeling.

Despite this lack of on-screen intimate fireworks, Julian Fellowes crafts a sweet union for Ada that is only controversial to Agnes. It doesn’t have to be states of undress, and Nixon and Leonard’s chemistry bubbles beneath the surface through chaste dining room dancing. The only time we see them in bed together is when the Grim Reaper comes knocking, and this later-in-life love story does have a definitive endpoint. The speed with which Luke goes from diagnosis to death matches the whirlwind meeting to marriage. The Gilded Age hit glorious melodramatic heights in its second season, and this particular plotting — not to mention Luke’s secret fortune that he leaves in his will to Ada — is part of the wild roller-coaster season.

Even though Ada ends up a widow, she still has better luck than Miranda in AJLT, whose new relationship is doomed long before Che Diaz (Sara Ramirez) decides to shoot Cameos in bed at three in the morning. Much of this feels like narrative course-correcting, and while this exploration of Miranda’s sexuality is welcome, the stand-up set that sees Che mining their ex for material speaks to the flaws. Miranda’s short-lived Valentine’s post-Che dinner with audiobook narrator Amelia (Miriam Shor) is straight out of the SATC lousy date playbook and strikes a balance between funny and cringe. Despite their rom-com-ready meet-cute, a kitty litter box is a deal breaker.

Having spent 25 years watching the highs and lows of Miranda’s love life offers a unique perspective not often afforded to a TV character. We have seen her move from dating disasters in her 30s to starting all over again in middle age. For all the missteps made in AJLT, it is refreshing to see the ebb and flow of libido with someone like Nixon in this role. Getting to experience Miranda and Ada in the same calendar year is a triumph.

AJLT isn’t alone in centering horny middle-aged couples on Max. Look no further than the delightful Julia, which follows Julia Child (Sarah Lancashire) on her journey to becoming a TV chef sensation. The first season gave space to a menopause story and a reduced sex drive, a topic often pushed to the shadows or given minimal screen time. In the sophomore outing, Julia and Paul (David Hyde Pierce) are back in sync in the bedroom; however, this season is not without its sexual challenges impacting an age demo that doesn’t always get a look in. Best friend Avis (Bebe Neuwirth) is blowing away these particular cobwebs with nervous trepidation.

Avis found every excuse not to meet bachelors last season as she still isn’t ready after the death of her husband of over 40 years. Her reluctance to meet new people is understandable, though Avis’ happy marriage occurs before the series, so any new suitor doesn’t have to worry about the audience making a comparison. Meeting the sweet Stanley (played by the always wonderful Danny Burstein) at a Harvard University gathering gets this duo off to a good start.

Unfortunately, Avis is so freaked out about the next physical step that she flees to Paris, gatecrashing Julia and Paul’s time to reconnect. Luckily, hanging out with French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre — who also has relationship woes — helps her navigate the thrills of something new.

Neuwirth deftly portrays her character’s nerves and desires that stem from decades out of the singles scene. She was 18 when she last went on a first date; there was no TV, commercial air travel, or Oreos. Julia doesn’t think Stanley is good enough for her BFF, but she still encourages her to “open your doors, open them wide”. Yes, the unsubtle metaphor is not lost on Avis, who takes this advice and runs with it.

Food is the lifeblood of Julia, and it also plays into the morning-after post-coital bliss that sees Avis wearing the universal “we just slept together outfit” (aka, Stanley’s shirt and nothing else). This costume choice can be rather tiresome, but on Neuwirth, it gets a new lease on life — much like Avis.

What Julia does next is so wonderfully unexpected, even if Avis gets hurt in the process. Stanley might be a dorky physics professor, but he also worked on the Manhattan Project, and anyone who has seen Oppenheimer knows how horny scientists can get. When Avis comes back early from a trip, she finds Stanley is not alone, and men of all ages have the power to disappoint when they think they are all that in bed.

Being able to trust someone doesn’t get easier as you get older, and no one knows this more than the men of Only Murders in the Building. Charles (Steve Martin) experienced the stomach butterflies of a crush becoming something more in Season 1, and his already shaky confidence is dented when Jan (Amy Ryan) turns out to be the killer. Charles is still nursing the scars of a previous relationship, so being involved with a murderer does little to help his self-esteem. Whereas a character like Avis is scared to re-enter the mingling game because her only relationship was like a fairy tale, Charles has been burned too many times. It is why he ends up self-sabotaging things with makeup artist Joy (Andrea Martin).

But it isn’t Charles who has one of the most refreshing romances of 2023, nor do Mabel (Selena Gomez) and Tobert (Jesse Williams) win that prize — and if we’re being honest, the Mabel-Theo pairing is far more swoon-worthy. Instead, Oliver (Martin Short) and Loretta (Meryl Streep) are the couple that hit the top of the passion meter. They break Oliver’s no showmance rule, overcome secrets, and even suggest a long-distance commitment by the end of Season 3. It is pretty much love at first sight for Oliver, who quickly shifts from boredom to transfixed during Loretta’s audition. Talk about electric chemistry and seeing sparks fly.

It is equally exciting to see this dynamic bloom as it is to watch Ada’s light flirtation on The Gilded Age or Avis take the plunge with Stanley on Julia, but Oliver and Loretta overcome murder accusations, a secret son, and Loretta confessing to a crime she didn’t commit. Not only that, but they have a first date that goes horribly awry thanks to an indelible steak and broken tooth before circling back to sweet, stoned, and aroused.

As far as first kisses go, Oliver and Loretta’s ferry ride smooch is a giddy delight that deftly sums up their endlessly appealing match-up. Adding Streep to the already bountiful lineup could have veered into stunt-casting overload, but instead, Loretta is a catalyst leading to Oliver’s growth and rare vulnerability.

While Streep doesn’t appear in every episode, Loretta avoids being only a catalyst for Oliver’s journey in her role of love interest. Flashbacks help flesh out her struggles as an actress, and in the present, she seizes every moment to add texture to this character. The two remain optimistic despite this industry dealing them blows, and what this union shares with Ada’s and Avis’ arcs is the leap of faith despite setbacks or obstacles thrown their way. While the heady days of first love are intoxicating, a later-in-life encounter can be as tantalizing to watch unfold as falling head-over-heels in your teens and twenties — and equally painful when it ends.

Emma Fraser has wanted to write about TV since she first watched My So-Called Life in the mid-90s, finally getting her wish over a decade later. Follow her on Twitter at @frazbelina.