article

Exploring Rosa von Praunheims Belief in Afterlife Intimacy

7 min read

“Death Is an Orgasm”: What’s True—and What Isn’t—About Rosa von Praunheim’s Final Days

Yes: Rosa von Praunheim died at 83 in Berlin on December 17, 2025—just five days after marrying his longtime partner, Oliver Sechting. Yes: he really did joke, “Death is like an orgasm. I believe in sex after death.” But some of the most dramatic details making the rounds need careful untangling.

Below, we separate what’s verified from what’s fuzzy, and tell the story of a provocateur who shaped queer cinema—and kept provoking to the end.

The Big, Verified Reveal

The most compelling part of the story is true: in one last, fittingly theatrical turn, von Praunheim married Sechting on Friday, December 12, 2025, and died days later. Multiple outlets confirmed the timing and place of his death in Berlin, as well as the late-in-life wedding:

And the quote? He said it—on the record this year:

That is the hook. Here is the context that makes it even richer.

From Prison Birth to Pink Triangle: How He Made a Movement

He was born during war, inside Riga’s central prison, on November 25, 1942. He was registered as Holger Radtke, later adopted and raised under the name Holger Mischwitzky. He only learned the truth at 58, when his adoptive mother—then 94—told him about his origins. His birth mother, Edith Radtke, died of starvation in 1946 in a Berlin psychiatric clinic. He later turned his search for identity into a film, “Meine Mütter – Spurensuche in Riga” (2007).

His chosen name was also a manifesto:

Then came the catalytic blast: his 1971 film “Nicht der Homosexuelle ist pervers, sondern die Situation, in der er lebt” premiered at the Berlinale and is widely credited with helping ignite the modern gay movement in West Germany.

He never stopped making. Over five decades, he directed well over 100 films, taught as a professor of directing at the HFF in Babelsberg in the 2000s, and was still premiering new work at 83—most recently “Satanische Sau,” which screened in the Berlinale Panorama in February 2025.

The TV Scandal That Became a Time Capsule

If you remember one TV moment, it’s probably this: in 1991, on RTL’s “Der heiße Stuhl,” he publicly outed two national favorites, Alfred Biolek and Hape Kerkeling. The shock was real. The era matters: male homosexuality had only been partially decriminalized in 1969; the infamous paragraph (§175) wasn’t fully repealed until 1994.

Over time, the tone softened. Kerkeling later said that while it wasn’t “right,” in hindsight it wasn’t “wrong” either—hardly endorsement, but not condemnation.

What We Confirmed—and What We Corrected

Key checks at a glance:

How the Legend Was Built—And Why Details Matter

Storytelling shaped how Germany saw queerness. Von Praunheim wasn’t just scandal; he was strategy. He wielded provocation to force conversations, from his 1971 film to the 1991 outing. He taught the next generation—Tom Tykwer among them—to push through “an imaginary door … into cinema’s secret chambers.”

But legends harden quickly. A line about “25 films at the Berlinale” becomes gospel; a director’s unsourced praise spreads; a “waiting grave” turns symbolic space into a personal plot. In the first hours after a death, romantic myths race ahead of the record. That’s natural. It’s also why we check.

What We Still Don’t Know

If you have documentation or firsthand confirmation, my inbox is open.

Our Reporting Process

The Last Word

He once said he didn’t cling to life because he’d done everything he wanted. Even in death, he left a punchline: sex after death. The facts show a man who turned outrage into art and art into change. The mythmaking will continue. The record, for now, is this: