The Gay Search for Deeper Connections: ‘Sex, Love and Venice’ Looks at One Man’s Journey

The Gay Search for Deeper Connections

‘Sex, Love and Venice’ Looks at One Man’s Journey

By FRANK RIZZO

How can a gay man find true intimacy in an easy-access world of online sex?

The answer may be an honest reckoning with oneself—and perhaps even a trip to Venice.

At least that’s the narrative of the indie film Sex, Love and Venice, written and directed by Steve Balderson.

The creators describe the story as follows: “Healing from a breakup, Michael escapes to Venice where he unexpectedly finds a love that awakens his spirit and expands his heart, promising to profoundly alter the direction of his life forever.”

Daniel Bateman plays Michael, a handsome, 30ish gay man who finds sex easy enough following a devastating breakup, but he is also increasingly empty, making him all the more miserable.

Michael’s supportive mother is played by filmmaker John Waters’ star Mink Stole; see sidebar. She suggests a change of scenery and a trip to romantic, sensual and transformative Venice. There Michael meets Marco (Alexander Ananasso), a sultry, soft-spoken bear of an Italian with a compelling presence who teaches Michael patience, intentionality, and what it means to have a soulful intimacy.

“There’s nothing wrong with hooking up as long and you’re honest with yourself and if it’s making you happy,” says Bateman in a Zoom interview from Los Angeles. “But do you feel better when you are leaving that intimate encounter with someone? Are you needing more meaning?”

In the film Michael at first seeks counsel for his malaise and anxiety from his L.A. friends, family and a mentor, all to no avail.

 “We can listen to all the self-help words in the world but they don’t always stick,” says Bateman. “Sometimes that advice just goes in one ear and out the other because it’s just something you’ve heard before, feels unattainable, or you don’t know the tools to make it happen.

For Michael, it also includes a change from his American attitude and pace.

“That mindset,” says Bateman, “is like, ‘We’ve gone here, now let’s go there, and then there. And where am I going to find parking? Is it where I need to be? Is it closer to my next meeting?’ But in Venice, it’s, ‘Let’s enjoy this restaurant we’re in right now. Let’s be happy here. Now. Let’s take in this moment.’” 

Of course, it is Italy, and perhaps easier to take in.

Most of the film was shot in Venice during the month of November when it isn’t so filled with tourists with more room to explore the city—and oneself.

“Venice is beautiful and moody,” says Bateman. “One moment it’s sunny and then not. Then, the water’s rising, and the wind’s blowing, and waves are hitting the walkways. It’s a metaphor for life itself, as if to say, ‘Life itself is beautiful in all the messiness.’” 

In Venice, Michael meets Marco, a mesmerizing man whom he finds compellingly authentic, grounded and with a deeply felt philosophy of life, love, and sex that he’s all too happy to share.

“For Michael” says Bateman, “it was, ‘Whoa, this is a person I’m sexually desiring? But he is also someone who [Michael is] emotionally resonating with, too. It’s that combination that is key for Michael and he gradually learns to trust again that results in a deep desire for change.

Marco spends Michael’s vacation time with him but resists having immediate sex with him. For Michael, it might not look like it would happen at all before he returned home. But he would learn that the waiting was part of his life lesson, too.

“For Michael, it was discovering a person who is just excited to be alive and to be present and to be intimate,” Bateman says. I think that’s what made the switch for him in learning that he could connect the two: being present and intimate.”

Real Life Story

For writer/director Balderson, the story was inspired by his own self-help journey following his own  breakup when he turned 40. He turned to books and motivational talks, but it was his own trip to Venice that changed his life.

“When I have told people about my experience in Venice, they would say, why don’t you turn this into a movie?’”

Balderson met a deeply felt man who had a profound effect on his life.

“It literally felt like it was the first time I’ve had sex in my life because it was bringing me into all of my senses. I was feeling things I never felt and not just tactile, but, like, internally.”

Balderson says that he brought that sense of presence when he returned to the U.S., even if the sexual encounters after that were fleeting, and even if the feeling wasn’t reciprocal. “I still tried to go there,” he says. “But even if the other person doesn’t go there, it’s healthier, for me, of that feeling of intentionality, and it makes it a better experience. The great thing is to be reminded that whether it’s about sex or about anything, how important it is in life just to be present.” 

For Bateman, the film has prompted conversations with friends and associates.

He notes in contemporary life there’s a paradox of seemingly endless online opportunities for connections and sex, but at the same time it can be devastatingly lonely, too.

Bateman says for many in the gay community the focus is on the superficial “and not having to go deeper, thinking, ‘Well, this is what gay dating looks like. Compartmentalizing things like: ‘I have this wild side that I do in my own time, and then I go back, and I get my affection from my mother or friends or whoever.’

Balderson adds that sees a generation or two of gay men who are adrift in terms of real connections and hope the film can help them see deeper meaning.

“Superficial sex is so easy but once you’ve had the other, it’s a little bit like, why would you go back to the other way?”

And not just for gay men.

“I think if people learn how to be present with their lover,” says Balderson, “that would be revolutionary for most everybody.”