Jean Smart is the poster child for this category. Her role in Hacks as Deborah Vance, a legendary Las Vegas comedian fighting to stay relevant, is a masterclass in arrogance, vulnerability, and ambition. Smart, in her 70s, plays a woman who is neither likable nor pitiable—she is formidable. This mirrors Tony Soprano or Don Draper, but with higher heels and deeper emotional scars.
Historically, the film critic and scholar Molly Haskell famously coined the term "The Forty-Year-Old Virgin" to describe a peculiar Hollywood phenomenon: women over forty were rarely allowed to have sex lives, agency, or complex desires on screen. They were relegated to the margins—the nagging mother-in-law, the asexual authority figure, or the victim.
This created a vacuum where immense talent was wasted. Actresses like Glenn Close and Meryl Streep famously championed roles that defied these stereotypes, but they were often the exception rather than the rule. work freeusemilf freya von doom lilly hall my g
Today, that dynamic has fractured. The success of films like 80 for Brady and Book Club proved at the box office what studios had long ignored: there is a massive, underserved audience of older women who want to see themselves reflected on screen—not as grandmothers knitting in the corner, but as women with active social lives, romantic desires, and professional ambition.
Perhaps the most radical shift in recent cinema is the portrayal of female desire. For too long, the sexuality of older women was treated as a punchline or a taboo. Jean Smart is the poster child for this category
The television series And Just Like That... (the sequel to Sex and the City) received mixed reviews, but it was groundbreaking in its refusal to shy away from the realities of aging—from hip replacements to the changing landscape of intimacy. Meanwhile, shows like Grace and Frankie spent seven seasons tackling everything from vibrators to divorce, treating its octogenarian leads (Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin) not as relics, but as women actively reinventing themselves.
In European cinema, this has long been normalized. The French film All About Them and the recent Romanian film Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn feature mature women whose sex lives are treated with casual realism rather than shock value. Hollywood is finally catching up, realizing that a woman’s story doesn't end when she stops being a romantic interest to the male lead; it often gets more interesting. This mirrors Tony Soprano or Don Draper, but
The entertainment industry is a business, and the numbers are finally speaking. Movies like The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (starring Judi Dench, Maggie Smith) made over $135 million globally on a $10 million budget. Book Club (Diane Keaton, Jane Fonda, Candice Bergen) grossed over $100 million. The so-called "gray dollar" is potent.
Furthermore, the success of "women of a certain age" in cinema has a trickle-down effect on marketing. Fashion brands (Loewe, The Row, Saint Laurent) are clamoring to dress older actresses for red carpets, knowing that a 60-year-old woman in a couture gown is more aspirational than an 20-year-old influencer. Authenticity sells, and nothing is more authentic than a woman who has stopped trying to look 25.
This resurgence isn't just happening in front of the lens. Mature women are increasingly taking control behind the scenes. Producers like Reese Witherspoon (through Hello Sunshine) and Shonda Rhimes have built empires specifically dedicated to telling female-driven stories.
This structural shift is vital. When women are the decision-makers, they greenlight projects where the "older woman" isn't just a supporting character to the young protagonist. They hire female directors and writers who understand the nuance of a life lived. Consider the recent success of Barbie, directed by Greta Gerwig. While the film focused on a doll, it was Rhea Perlman’s portrayal of Ruth Handler—the "ghost in the machine"—that provided the film's emotional anchor, a poignant meditation on mortality and creation that resonated deeply with older audiences.