News - Archives
2001 - December
'They're Here, They're Queer, Get Used to It'
The Baltimore Citypaper
by Adele Marley
December 3, 2001
It's been a banner year in TV land for those who are amorously inclined toward people of the same gender. To wit: NBC's lavender-tinged odd couple Will & Grace have not only parked their butts in the Nielsen top 10 on a regular basis, but the show copped an unexpected statuette for Best Comedy at the Emmy Awards in September. A richly deserving Vanessa Redgrave scored at the Emmys too, with her portrayal of a "widowed" lesbian in the HBO girls-who-love-girls trilogy If These Walls Could Talk 2. Machiavellian mastermind Richard Hatch won $1 million by outmaneuvering a passel of slimmer, purportedly straighter contestants on CBS' summer reality series Survivor. A stunning dearth of sponsors and viewers sent popular radio host and mouthy gay-rights opponent Laura Schlessinger and her syndicated talk show packing (or at least banished to late-night oblivion in most major markets). And Showtime chomped at the bit to remake the controversial British series Queer as Folk, a program that only a year ago Entertainment Weekly described as "the best show you'll never see."
Small-screen ubiquity is one of our culture's best barometers for determining when a phenomenon has gone totally mainstream. Now, only a few years into the post-Ellen era, the climate is pretty hospitable for shows with a queer-centric worldview. Two new shows are hoping to take advantage of this sea change: One is the aforementioned Americanized version of Queer as Folk, an hour-long drama about a close-knit group of prowling gay guys; the other is the assembly-line Fox sitcom Normal, Ohio, about a recently out, divorced dad (Roseanne's John Goodman) returning home to renew bonds with his reluctant family.
With movies such as this year's Dirty Pictures and Common Ground, 1999's Execution of Justice, and the 1998 miniseries More Tales of the City, Showtime seems determined to carve a niche for itself as a provider of gay-themed programming. With Queer as Folk, it apparently hopes to attract new subscribers, as adult-themed shows such as Sex and the City and The Sopranos have for competing premium channel HBO.
As a result, most of the buzz surrounding the program has to do with how the American version compares with its incredibly explicit British counterpart. But this is a moot concern, mainly because 1) Queer as Folk's viewers are likely to be amenable to the show's content, given that they pay to subscribe to the network that produced it and expect a certain amount of explicit programming, and 2) the new QAF was obviously developed with the American marketplace in mind. But as graphic as it is regarding its discussion and depiction of gay sex, it's not likely to push the envelope quite as far as the BBC version. The new QAF doesn't have too much in the way of its counterpart's gritty pessimism or any male frontal nudity, which have apparently been deemed, for whatever reason, too hot for Yank TV.
At any rate, the buzz about QAF's sexual frankness might be a bit of a red herring. I suspect Showtime is touting QAF's explicitness (hot butt play, anyone?) to not only appeal to an audience which appreciates this kind of freedom and cultural expression, but to distract from the quality of the program. As it stands, QAF is watchable--but not transcendent--television, which is disappointing given the relative carte blanche the producers had in developing the show.
The new QAF is set in Pittsburgh (the British series was set in working-class Manchester) to illustrate, I suppose, that man-loving men aren't exclusively a San Francisco treat. But the depiction of Pittsburgh as a throbbing, glitzy gay mecca on par with the Castro seems implausible, and the fact that Toronto stands in as a shooting locale adds insult to injury.
Within this glamorously festive Rust Belt enclave resides a group of friends who troll the gyms and the clubs for booty. The most interesting character among them is Brian (Gale Harold), a predatory, promiscuous advertising executive whose dark charisma seems to inspire the inexplicable devotion of everyone around him, despite his jeering nastiness and nihilism. In the first episode, Brian brings home a prep-school neophyte, Justin (Randy Harrison), who becomes the one-night stand from hell, the one who just won't go away. Justin compensates for Brian's rejection by infiltrating every aspect of his life--making friends with his friends, hanging out at his haunts, hitting on his prospects, and even forming a relationship with a pair of lesbian moms for whom Brian fathered a child. Justin is supposed to represent the refreshing point of view of someone new to the gay experience, but because the character comes off as being a pesky little twit (Harrison's reactions are limited to batting his expressionless button eyes and smirking frequently), the device backfires. Still, Queer as Folk is subtly addictive television, if only because boyfriend-stealing cutie-pie Brian stirs up so much drama.
Strangely, Normal, Ohio, which debuted about a month ago, is really a more
ambitious program, albeit a less successful one. What the Fox sitcom has in
common with QAF is its depiction of gay life in a middle-American setting. What
it doesn't have in common with QAF is noteworthy: The protagonist isn't some
lithe, comely Dapper Dan but instead wears plaid flannel shirts, speaks in a
boisterous, thundering voice, likes football and beer, and looks like John Goodman.
Normal, Ohio seems intent on portraying Goodman's Butch as being as far from
stereotypically gay as possible, but based on the evidence so far his sexual
orientation is doomed to be forever bandied about (most tiresomely by Butch's
annoying parents) but never demonstrated.