Set at a writer’s retreat in Morocco, Susannah Grant‘s Lonely Planet (Netflix, 10.11) is about a fiftysomething, semi-blocked novelist (Laura Dern) flirting with and then having it off with a 30something dude (dashing Liam Hemsworth as the bored husband of a younger female writer).

Imagine the howls of protest and revulsion if the story was about a 57 year-old male writer having a mad affair with a bored, youngish and profoundly attractive wife of a male writer. “He’s over 20 years older!…a shameless hound taking advantage of her…she has no agency in this relationship!”, etc.

The bottom line is that progressive feminist culture approves of older women being pleasured by brawny dudes with washboard abs and and rock-hard phalluses…the way of our world.

Honest confession: If I was a 34 year-old guy being flirted with by a pretty 50something woman, the sight of long, bony feet might gave me pause. I don’t know which is more problematic — fleshy, pudgy feet or overly prominent big toes with crimson nail polish. The ideal middle ground is exemplified, I feel, by Michelle Pfeiffer.