Maxxie’s Dance and Mainstream Acceptance of Queerdom through His Beauty

Updated video of Maxxie's dance with higher resolution.

Lately, I’ve found myself engrossed in the British television show Skins, which explores the lives and challenges of a group of teenagers in Bristol, South West England. The show’s fresh, unfiltered approach to storytelling is at once engaging and, at times, shocking. As a viewer, it’s remarkably easy to become deeply invested in the unfolding drama of this coterie of teens, drawn into their tangled relationships and personal struggles.

One character, in particular, has captured my attention: Maxxie Oliver (played by Mitchell Hewer), the sweet and undeniably sexy queer boy with dreams of becoming a dancer. Maxxie’s charm, wit, and vulnerability make him an appealing figure within the ensemble, and the show doesn’t shy away from featuring him in steamy homoerotic scenes that push the envelope—especially by U.S. standards. These moments are groundbreaking in their candidness, yet they also raise questions about the intersections of beauty, desire, and representation.

Maxxie is, without question, stunning. His golden locks, chiseled features, and effortless grace epitomize the kind of idealized beauty that captivates audiences [1]. But it’s precisely this beauty that leaves me feeling uneasy. In a culture that commodifies sex and beauty—both in England and the U.S.—Maxxie’s attractiveness perpetuates a homoerotic fantasy that, while tangible and alluring, risks reducing queer identity to mere aesthetic appeal. His physical perfection becomes a tool through which homosexuality is made palatable for mainstream audiences. It aligns queer love with the realm of fantasy, framing it as acceptable—or even desirable—for the heterosexual viewer precisely because it is wrapped in a veneer of beauty and sensuality.

This dynamic isn’t new. Media has long relied on sexualized depictions to sell a fantasy. Yet, in Maxxie’s case, his allure seems to serve a dual purpose: it allows Skins to normalize homoeroticism while also cushioning it for viewers who might otherwise feel discomfort at witnessing intimacy between two people of the same sex. His beauty softens the perceived "shock" of queer desire, making it easier to consume for an audience steeped in heteronormative frameworks. The show’s creators seem acutely aware of this tension, and whether intentionally or not, they exploit it. Maxxie becomes both a celebration of queer visibility and a commodified object of desire, caught in the intersection of representation and objectification.

This objectification extends beyond queer representation to broader societal ideals of masculinity and desirability. Maxxie’s character exists within a media landscape where beauty is currency, and his physical appeal becomes inextricable from his identity as a queer man. The viewer is encouraged to admire him, but this admiration is often filtered through a lens that prioritizes his aesthetic value over his interior complexity. What does it mean for a queer character’s worth to be so heavily tied to their physical attractiveness? And how does this shape societal perceptions of queerness itself? These questions linger long after the episode ends.

The opening scene of Season Two, Episode One illustrates this dynamic beautifully—or problematically, depending on one’s perspective. The sequence features Maxxie in a playful and captivating dance number, his blond hair catching the light as he moves with effortless confidence. It’s a moment designed to entrance the viewer, to draw them into Maxxie’s orbit. Yet, beneath the surface, it’s hard not to question the function of this display. Is this a moment of empowerment for Maxxie as a character, or is it a moment of objectification for Maxxie as a queer body on display?

Ultimately, Skins deserves credit for pushing boundaries and bringing queer characters like Maxxie into mainstream narratives. Yet, it also invites a critical examination of how these stories are told and the ways they reflect—and reinforce—cultural obsessions with beauty, desire, and acceptability. Maxxie’s charm is undeniable, but it’s worth asking: at what cost is his story being told, and who truly benefits from the way it’s framed?

Notes

[1] Despite his queer identity, Maxxie’s character awakened an insatiable longing I couldn’t fully understand at the time. Only a month after posting this, when I first encountered Hans, it began to make sense. Blond men, like Maxxie, seemed to embody an unconscious yearning for Hans, as if my subconscious already knew he was about to enter my life.