Blogpost by Xenia Zimmermann Sexuality and Masculinity – Johnny Depp in “The Man Who Cried”

Published on 19.03.2026.

Masculinity and sexuality as aspects of a “Gypsy” stereotype on screen are an almost unexplored topic. This blog post asks in what way the “G.-figure” César, in The Man Who Cried (2000) by Sally Potter, is staged in his masculinity and sexuality—closely connected to his minority identity. The analysis focuses on how the film either challenges, reworks, or reproduces existing (gender) stereotypes about Sinti and Roma and “Gypsy” characters.

The film tells the story of a Jewish girl (Christina Ricci), later called “Suzie,” whose father emigrated from Russia to the United States in 1927. As an adult, Suzie performs as a dancer in Paris together with her friend Lola (Cate Blanchett), where she meets César (Johnny Depp). The following discussion centers on his portrayal.

Before continuing, it should be noted that the term “Gypsy” will be used in this essay because it examines the stereotypical, media‑constructed image associated with it. Wherever possible, the term will appear in abbreviated form as “G.” This image does not necessarily reflect the reality of Sinti and Roma, and the aim here is explicitly not to make any statements about them. The use of the term in non‑academic contexts is firmly rejected. German Quotes in this text were translated.

“Femme Fatale” and “Ragged Dandy” – Gender Images Between Fascination and Stigmatization

Clichéd notions of an exotic, wandering people have fascinated white European cultures for centuries (Szőke 2025: 226–241). Certain stereotyped attributes are repeatedly assigned—mystery, magic, danger, and eroticism. The “Gypsy myth” presents the minority as enigmatic, impulsive, wicked, morally suspect, dangerous, and uncivilized (ibid.), associating them as well with “asocial” tendencies and criminality (Reuter 2025: 4).
Above all, exoticism and eroticism have played a major role in how Sinti and Roma are perceived and depicted. Women of the minority, for instance, were often hyper‑sexualized in literary works of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries (Szőke 2025: 226–241). There was an almost “erotic obsession” centered on images of femmes fatales whose sexuality threatened patriarchal order—concepts that evoked both aversion and desire among men (Szőke 2025: 226–241). The most popular example is the “literary archetype of Carmen” (Reuter 2020: 84).

Classic depictions of female “G.-figures,” especially in film, are characterized by dance, music, and art, by colorful clothing with low necklines, striking jewelry, gold coins, castanets, and animals such as donkeys pulling wagons. Of equal importance is the high value placed on family and the sense of belonging to a larger whole. When turning to male “G.-figures,” such as in The Man Who Cried, one must first connect to the established image of female figures.
For the “literary portrayal of the male Gypsy,” likewise, conveys “images of exceptional intensity and vitality” (Brittnacher 2012: 130). He too is attributed with exoticism and eroticism, expressed through the “enchantment of his personality and beauty” (ibid.).

Golden buttons, colorful silk scarves, “bohemian‑style open shirts designed to reveal the sun‑tanned chest,” flashing white teeth, a thick mane of black hair, and the “dark allure of the primitive and barbaric” make up one side of the majority society’s projection (Brittnacher 2012: 132–134). Negative attributes—dirty appearance, bare arms and legs, torn clothing—come together in what Hans Richard Brittnacher coined the “ragged dandy” (Brittnacher 2012: 130). Literature and art also tend to emphasize erotic appeal. Brittnacher explains this by noting that since the French Revolution, men in Western culture have defined themselves largely through their social role and symbols of power. These “fetishes of power” granted them beauty and “erotic potential” beyond mere physicality. The so‑called “Gypsy,” however, ignored these fetishes and had to rely purely on his body (Brittnacher 2012: 130–134).

Another aspect of the male “G.-figure,” however, contrasts with this. Rarely is such masculinity portrayed as purely hard or dominant; rather, traces of gentleness and “feminine delicacy” also appear (Brittnacher 2012: 134–136). These figures are often depicted as slim or slight, with long black eyelashes and a “peacock‑like self‑presentation,” for example through an ostentatious display of jewelry (Brittnacher 2012: 133–135). The masculinity of the “Gypsy” is not questioned—his proximity to femininity merely heightens his attractiveness (Brittnacher 2012: 136).

Fire, Horse, and Desire – César’s Sexuality as Part of the Stereotype

Sally Potter’s typical female quest (Capp) can also be found in The Man Who Cried. Although the title might suggest otherwise, the focus lies on the female protagonist Suzie (Bolton). In the context of the growing attention to the female gaze around the early 2000s—for example in Bollywood cinema—the question arises whether the perspective in Potter’s film, featuring Johnny Depp, is likewise framed through the eyes of a heterosexual woman (Gupta 2007: 19). The female gaze, as opposed to the more familiar male gaze, expresses a woman’s visual perception of the world. In cinematic terms, it means that visual pleasure may be primarily oriented toward female viewers (Gupta 2007: 19). This effect can clearly be observed in The Man Who Cried. Central to this is César’s portrayal—both throughout the film and especially in the erotic campfire scene.  This sequence follows a key moment in which César is humiliated by the opera singer Dante after his horse defecates on stage. Dante mocks the theatre as a “Gypsy circus” and rails that “Gypsies” should go back where they belong, calling them dirty and lazy. Suzie defends César. Later, he tells her she doesn’t need to fight for him because he can defend himself. He calls her Gadji, a Romani term for a non‑Roma woman, thereby marking a clear boundary between them. Suzie replies that she is not “one of them,” reflecting her own identity conflict.

Another pivotal scene follows—by the campfire at night. Suzie sits in an armchair as César rides around her on his white horse. The camera captures him in slow motion, his hair blowing in the wind. Suzie looks up at him almost reverently. He wears golden rings and bracelets, his shirt partly open, and as he stops and approaches her, he strokes her head and face from above. Erotic interactions follow, initiated mostly by César. The scene is underscored by tense, sensual music. César’s portrayal here is strongly shaped by dominance. Suzie’s upward gaze and passive posture underline this (see Fig. 1). Yet the camera itself focuses above all on César and his physical movements—an aesthetic choice consistent with the female gaze. Casting Johnny Depp, a major star of the 1990s and 2000s who was particularly adored and idealized by female fans, reinforces this reading. César is intentionally framed as highly attractive. This matches the stereotype of the “beautiful Gypsy” (Brittnacher 2012: 130). His accent conveys a sense of exoticism: he rolls his r’s and occasionally uses infinitives instead of full verb conjugations. His physical appearance also corresponds to standard clichés—dark, wild hair and eyes, a moustache, golden jewelry, an open shirt (Fig. 2). The name “César” itself is telling: on the one hand it evokes the strength of Julius Caesar; on the other, it derives from caesaries, Latin for “long hair.” Negative stereotypes, however, are not visually present—he wears no ragged clothes, seems clean, and shows no more skin than other male characters. Dirt and criminality are voiced only through the insults of Dante, which Suzie immediately refutes. In the literature, Depp’s role has been described as a “dark princely Gypsy” or “Gypsy lover as a noble savage, a dark, wild prince,” aptly summarizing his on‑screen presence and revealing the persistence of positive stereotypes (Loshitzky 2003: 64–65).

César’s close connection with his horse also fits the image of the “Gypsy.”
Animals are a central motif of the cliché. The white horse appears not only in the campfire scene but also during César’s first appearance, in stage performances, and in private moments with Suzie. In one sequence, Suzie secretly follows César and two other men riding their horses through the streets at night. César leads the group on his white stallion; the men even stand upright on their galloping horses. The scene further underscores his attractiveness and dominance, while reiterating the stereotypes of circus association, closeness to animals, and strong family bonds.

The Man Who Cried – Masculine Tears as Part of the Stereotype?

The question whether César—as a “G.-figure”—is depicted as masculine is complex, since stereotypes about masculinity within the minority also include feminine traits (Brittnacher 2012: 133). Still, elements of classical Western masculinity are clearly visible in Johnny Depp’s portrayal. His eroticization and his dominance in sexual contexts already convey traditionally masculine qualities. His laconic reserve likewise supports this impression.

He adds that he has his own family to protect and must fight for them, encouraging Suzie to stand up for herself. His protective stance can be read as masculine. Later, however, we see him holding the sleeping Suzie in his arms and crying himself. Such emotionality is usually coded as feminine. Yet because he weeps unseen by her, the moment again aligns with a masculine ideal—controlled vulnerability. Throughout the film, César’s sensibility contrasts with the loud, arrogant opera singer Dante, who functions as his foil. Compared to Dante’s aggressiveness, César’s quiet gaze and passive nature appear gentle—even “feminine.”

Nevertheless, these delicate qualities still reinforce the traditional “Gypsy” stereotype, which includes precisely such ambivalent masculinity. The “G.-figure” in The Man Who Cried thus displays the “feminine streak of his nature” noted by Brittnacher (2012: 133). According to him, feminine traits are part of the masculinity of the stereotypical figure itself. Hence, the film’s inclusion of such aspects arguably perpetuates the cliché rather than breaking it.

Conclusion

In summary, The Man Who Cried aims in parts to challenge clichés but, regarding masculinity and sexuality, ultimately reinforces them in its portrayal of César. His embodiment of strong masculinity is undeniable—his physicality, dominance, and strength make him appear highly masculine and attractive within the female gaze. Stereotypes surrounding sexuality—passion, exoticism, eroticism, dominance, and wildness—are visibly maintained. His family loyalty and connection to his horse identify him, in the film’s stereotyped view, as a member of the minority.

Thus, although the film includes the persecuted history of Sinti and Roma during the Nazi era and seeks to avoid negative stereotypes, it largely reproduces positive ones. César is presented as both an identification figure and an object of desire yet remains shaped by cliché rather than individuality. Whether the film truly undermines stereotypes is therefore doubtful. It contributes to Holocaust remembrance concerning Sinti and Roma—but also perpetuates a stylized cinematic image of the “G.-figure.”