Welcome to the Age of the Twink

There’s a scene in “Call Me by Your Name” that I can’t get out of my head. (No, not that one.) It happens near the beginning of Luca Guadagnino’s gay odyssey, when Armie Hammer’s character, Oliver, sweaty from volleyball, pauses to steal a drink from Elio, played by Timothée Chalamet. Sensing Elio’s nervousness, Oliver begins to massage his shoulder. This is memorable not because we’re watching two straight actors perform a pas de deux of muted gay desire, but rather because of their difference in size. Hammer, 31, is 6-foot-5, with broad shoulders and body hair. Chalamet, 22, is five inches shorter, naturally smooth, with a pronounced clavicle and a concave torso. By gay male standards, he’s the ultimate twink.

Although the origin of the term has been disputed — some trace its history to “twank,” 1920s British slang for a client of gay male prostitutes, while others insist it’s a vulgar riff on the cream-filled Hostess snack — twinks are young, attractive, hairless, slim men. There are several modern variations: Euro twinks (the boys of BelAmi, a Slovak pornography studio named after the novel by Guy de Maupassant), twunks (a portmanteau with hunk, embodied by modern-day Zac Efron) and femme twinks (like the fabulous American figure skater Adam Rippon).

But the latest twinks — many of whom are straight — are what you might call “art twinks,” building upon an aesthetic legacy established by Ryan McGinley’s turn-of-the-millennium photographs of the sloppily skinny, or last decade’s leather-pant-clad Saint Laurent models chosen by the designer Hedi Slimane. And yet they are more culturally mainstream: a growing cohort of famous (and famously small) boys who stand in opposition to the lumbering, abusive oafs who have been dominating this year’s headlines.

Consider, for example, Tye Sheridan, the 21-year-old lead in “Ready Player One” — and one of few action heroes who won’t be busting out of his T-shirt anytime soon. Or the rising star Lucas Hedges, also 21, whose acting exudes anti-alpha softness. Christopher Nolan’s 2017 WWII epic “Dunkirk” was an ensemble showpiece of British twinkiness; “Love, Simon,” starring Nick Robinson, 23, is the American suburban version.

Historically, music’s leading men have been less burdened by stereotypes of masculinity. But if the godfathers of nonbinary pop — from Freddie Mercury to Adam Lambert — paved the way, their personas often came across as glam-rock caricature. Today, gay twinks such as Olly Alexander of the band Years & Years and Troye Silvan feel less costumed. When Sivan, 22, performed on “Saturday Night Live” in January, his shirt was blown open by a wind machine, his whole mien charged with sex. But there seemed to be safety in his slimness — both for the artist to express himself and for his countless questioning teenage fans. Sivan has also walked in a few runway shows, and several modeling agencies, including the German company Tomorrow Is Another Day, now specialize in lithe men, lending their sometimes-teenage charges to Prada and Valentino. When Nicolas Ghesquière unveiled his spring/summer 2016 collection for Louis Vuitton, the actor and musician Jaden Smith, then 17, wore a metal embroidered kilt, going beyond drag to question what, if anything, boyishness looks like now.

Female body types have always cycled in and out of style; yet with men, alternatives to the ideal of imposing physicality have usually been ignored or lampooned. But as women continue to use their voices to undo that legacy of toxic masculinity, a different kind of change is taking place from within the culture: These twinks, after all, aren’t just enviably lean boys or the latest unrealistic gay fantasy, but a new answer to the problem of what makes a man. — Nick Haramis