Warning: Spoilers for Kaos ahead.

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On Mount Olympus, there's no patron god of queerness. But that's not because these immortal beings are restricted by gender or sexuality. On the contrary, it's because all the gods are queer in some fashion, so there's no need for one specific god to fulfil that duty.

Kaos, Netflix's latest fantasy show, takes this to heart with queerness embedded throughout.

Dionysus (Nabhaan Rizwan), Hera (Janet McTeer) and Zeus (Jeff Goldblum) all enjoy men and women alike, plus there are plenty more LGBTQ+ experiences explored in the series too, be it the journey a trans man named Caeneus (Misia Butler) takes in the Underworld or even just the inclusion of queer icons like Suzy Eddie Izzard in the cast.

But it's not until halfway through that we discover that the show's most prominent voice, that of the Titan Prometheus, is queer as well.

Every aspect of Kaos is connected through his narration, which continues even while a vicious bird pecks out his guts on the cliffside where he's been imprisoned.

Sounds harsh? It is. Because as the myths of old would have it, Zeus put him there after Prometheus defied the gods and gave the gift of fire to mankind.

Yet in the same episode where we discover his queerness, we also see how Prometheus can be pretty harsh as well, even to the man he loves most in the whole entire world.

Ramon Tikaram as Charon in Kaos in a jumpsuit looking concerned
Ramon Tikaram as Charon in Kaos. Netflix

"By god, I loved someone," says Prometheus as episode 4 takes us back to the titan's final days on earth. There, we come to realise Charon (Ramon Tikaram), who would become the ferryman transporting people across the Styx to the Underworld, was living with Prometheus as his partner back before he died.

In the brief scenes they share together, Charon and Prometheus are deeply affectionate, and not just with their words. There's a physical bond there too, one characterised by the comfort that comes with spending a lifetime in each other's company.

That's not to say the passion is gone, though. Prometheus is known for being a bit fiery, after all, and scenes where the pair share a kiss naked in bed together are just gorgeous to watch, with or without the luscious monochromatic cinematography.

Beyond the emotional sentiment, what makes these exchanges truly remarkable is that it feels special when it shouldn't. We should be used to seeing older people physically intimate and even naked in bed together, because you don't stop being a sexual being once you reach a certain age.

We have no issue with these kind of stories for younger people, so this ageism doesn't do anyone any favours. We're all going to be old eventually, right? And isn't it better to see ourselves as older people represented and affirmed on screen too?

That's especially important for older queer people. We're not going to get into how rare it can be for LGBTQ+ people of any age to see themselves reflected how they want to be reflected on screen, and that's even more true for queer people over the age of 40.

There's a huge problem with ageism in the gay community especially, this idea that you're past it and no longer deemed desirable once you reach a certain age.

It's also worth remembering that there would also be a lot more queer elders around today if not for prejudice and how poorly various governments handled the AIDS epidemic of the '80s and '90s.

That makes rare moments like these scenes between Charon and Prometheus all the more precious. The pair aren't being mocked or othered - or covered up, for that matter, either. Their physicality and their romance are just as valid as any other in the show, regardless of age, gender or sexual orientation.

There is one caveat, though. Queer romances have been historically characterised as tragic on screen, and this one unfortunately ends in death as well. What's worse is that Prometheus is actually the one who kills Charon, stabbing him unexpectedly in the neck during what seemed to be a calm, intimate scene of love.

Misia Butler as Caeneus in Kaos walking a three-headed dog
Misia Butler as Caeneus in Kaos. Netflix

However, this isn't a typical example of the Bury Your Gays trope. Knowing that Zeus was coming for him, Prometheus had to set a plan in motion, one that would eventually free him and prove to be Zeus's downfall.

The problem is that for this plan to work, he needed someone down in the Underworld to help fulfil a prophecy, and it needed to be someone he trusted more than anyone else in the world.

"I'm sorry," says Prometheus as blood starts to spurt out of his lover's neck. "Try not to hate me."

Of course, that's easier said than done when your partner has just fatally stabbed you with a knife. In a later episode, Charon does follow through with the plan, however, even though he never got to have a say in his involvement or give consent.

No one's saying that's a healthy relationship, not by any means. What Prometheus did was monstrous, even knowing that Charon would kind of survive still in the Underworld after his murder. And this is typical of immortal beings like him who toy with the lives of mortals, including their mortal lovers.

But that means there's still a chance for the pair to be reunited in a future season (although Charon should probably avoid that, given what Prometheus did to him).

The point, though, is that their love is still worthy of celebration, even in that brief flashback, and especially when it comes to foregrounding older gay love and nudity.

Things could have gone better, sure, and it would have been nice to see the pair happy in each other's arms for longer, but with so much going on in Kaos, it's still remarkable that time was taken to explore such an important gay experience that's practically never seen on screen.

If there was a god of queerness, they'd be proud (although they'd probably have a few notes for season 2, moving forward).

Kaos is available to stream on Netflix now. Sign up for Netflix from £4.99 a month. Netflix is also available on Sky Glass and Virgin Media Stream.

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Check out more of our fantasy coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more from the biggest stars in TV, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.

Authors

David OpieFreelance Writer

David Opie is a freelance entertainment journalist who writes about TV and film across a range of sites including Radio Times, Indiewire, Empire, Yahoo, Paste, and more. He's spoken on numerous LGBTQ+ panels to discuss queer representation and strives to champion LGBTQ+ storytelling as much as possible. Other passions include comics, animation, and horror, which is why David longs to see a Buffy-themed Rusical on RuPaul's Drag Race. He previously worked at Digital Spy as a Deputy TV Editor and has a degree in Psychology.

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