Overall 0.5 / 5.0 (don’t bother)
Gay Inclusve? Very – mostly gay, some hetero secondary characters
Gay Positive? No – I don’t think they meant to be homophobic, but jeez…

Wow. I actually watched the whole thing, and in hindsight, how did I manage that? I feel like Superman now, able to watch awful movies in their entirety.

Here is the most positive thing I can say about this movie: the performances seem very earnest and enthusiastic, so kudos to the cast for bringing that energy to the show.

Unfortunately, it is far, far… far… from enough to save the film from its choppy editing, godawful camera shots, and aimless plot.

In theory, the movie is supposed to be a satire of a gay man (Jaime, played by Brian Campbell) looking for love and self-understanding via a search for a “straight lover who will be gay just for me.” The movie’s own blurb states, “In the end, Jaime is amazed to discover the one person he never thought he would – himself!”

That’s a stretch. Jaime comes from a background of casual, anonymous sexual encounters in the back of an adult bookstore. One gets the sense he’s never had a real relationship based on commitment and intimacy.

Meanwhile, at his job at an auto shop, he’s closeted. He develops a “bromance” with a (straight) fellow employee (Ray, played by Matt Edwards) who turns out to be a homophobe who tries to get Jaime into deep trouble in a completely contrived plot twist.

Somewhere along the course of the movie, the self-loathing Jaime tries to convince a peer from his backroom sexcapades to move to the suburbs with him and a pair of lesbians to pose as straight couples, so they can try to seduce married straight men. They detour on the way, however, with a series of bathroom encounters with gas station attendants. The film also includes an odd subplot involving a young man (Monty, Michael Gonring) with a self-professed fetish for “trolls” (older gay men). Monty is engaged to be married, and he leaves at the end of the movie for his bride.

I think I’m so disappointed in the movie because its foundational ideas are actually interesting to me. The fetish for straight men (and certainly for straight-acting) is prevalent throughout the gay community, so a satire about a gay man looking for a straight man who will be gay only for him suggests the possibility of both a lot of comedy and a lot of insight. Similarly, youth is highly fetishized in the gay community, so Monty’s subplot could have been woven into the story to enhance and reflect the main story’s theme. Alas. The script is a mishmash of barely coherent scenes and nonstarter plot threads.

My recommendation: Skip it.

Overall 3.5 / 5.0 (promising but fails to deliver a high-impact story)
Gay Inclusive? Very – protagonist is gay, and the mystery takes him into London’s 18th Century gay underworld
Gay Positive? Mostly – the era is definitely not gay positive, but the author’s treatment of the gay content is.

Set in 1757, Lord John Grey is the head of his family’s household until his elder brother Hal returns from a military appointment abroad. As a result, Grey has some responsibility to protect his cousin Olivia, who is engaged to marry well-to-do merchant Joseph Trevelyan, whom Grey believes to be “poxed” with syphilis. At that time in history, syphilis occupied the role HIV/AIDS does today. Worse, in fact: it was incurable, and contracting the illness virtually guaranteed the most unpleasant sort of death.

Meanwhile, another mystery erupts: it appears that vital British state secrets have been lost and might be sold to the French. Grey is tasked with investigating the crime to figure out what happened, who was involved and how to recover the lost secrets before it’s too late.

I enjoyed reading a gay-inclusive mystery set in a period of time about which I know little. Author Diana Gabaldon has done her research (in fact, she is well-known for her historical research), and I learned quite a bit about the history of gay people in Georgian England. She also includes a list of resources for anyone who wants to dig deeper and learn more.

The mystery is mildly interesting, but unfortunately fails to captivate. I was never sufficiently invested in the characters or events such that the story’s twists would have me on the edge of my seat.

Although generally sympathetic, the main character never comes alive. Apparently Lord John is supposed to be young and handsome, but he reads like he’s 60. Whenever his handsomeness was mentioned, it was always kind of jarring, because I had forgotten he was supposed to be young and winsome. That indicates a characterization disconnect.

Lord John is a secondary character from Gabaldon’s better know Outlander series (which I have never read). Reviewer Susan Scribner of TheRomanceReader.com comments,

I like Lord John throughout the Outlander series he has always come across as sympathetic, complex and slightly tormented, but this story doesn’t shed much new light on his core character. He’s always been a bit of an enigma, and he remains elusive.

That’s problematic when Grey is at the center of the story and occupies nearly every page of the tale. Considering Gabaldon’s exquisite attention to historical detail, I would expect a multilayered character of depth and unexpected internal contradictions. Instead, we find someone who is genteel and devoted to duty, and that’s about it. Even his gayness, which he must keep secret given the social mores of the time period, fails to render him more than mildly interesting.

At the same time, the story hints at repressed passions and an undercurrent of powerful emotions. Perhaps future stories will allow Lord John to unfold more fully as a human being caught in multiple traps: the repressive social standards of the era, the excruciating necessity of maintaining a pristine image in his social class and the painful denial of a loving, committed relationship.

In fact, I was dying for Grey to get some action! I hoped his new valet, Tom Byrd, would develop a requited attraction to his master. But no. Nothing. The most important romance in the novel – which the reader doesn’t really delve into until the end – is heterosexual.

On the whole, I find this book to be promising, but little else. I hope that Gabaldon grows into this genre, and that future volumes chronicling Lord John Grey do him justice.

Overall Quality 2.0 / 5.0 (A+ for effort, but hard to really recommend)
Gay Inclusive? Very – it’s a dramatic gay romance
Gay Positive? Mostly – a few instances of internal & external homophobia pop up

From the same filmmaker (Jeff London) as Regarding Billy, we have Arizona Sky.

The movie opens with a scene between teenage Jake (Blaise Embry) and Kyle (Kyle Buckland). They have been having a secret romance, but now Jake’s family is moving away. They promise to keep in touch, but we all know how adolescent promises like that turn out.

Fast forward fifteen years, and we meet an adult Jake (Eric Dean). He’s a movie producer deeply dissatisfied with his life. His straight best friend (Brent King) calls him on it, and Jake decides to take a vacation to his home town, where he looks up Kyle (Jayme McCabe).

I was engaged by the first half of the movie. From the moment adult Jake met adult Kyle, however, the script took a sharp left into hokey and hackneyed. I was almost ready to buy into the foundational idea that maybe Jake and Kyle, even after 15 years, still had a powerful connection. But as soon as we meet the adult Kyle, it’s apparent that these two have grown into such fundamentally different men, I could not understand why they were so impassioned about one another that they would be driven into histrionics.

Maybe it has something to do with the self-indulgent script. Every scene is at least 10 or 20 percent longer than it should be, and the movie is incredibly talky. I like thoughtful screenplays, but even I was dying for something to happen.

The basic story is sweet. Most of the acting ranges from passable to competent. (Note I said “most”). A charming performance from Eric Dean is probably the movie’s highlight; I also really enjoyed the repartee between him and his straight best friend. Arizona Sky is gay-positive on the whole, a few instances of homophobia notwithstanding.

Everything shows potential, from the acting to the script. The movie just never gels. Its disparate parts are all off just enough that I spent the whole movie divorced from the experience. I never stopped being aware that I was watching a movie.

Overall Quality 4.5 / 5.0
Gay Inclusive? Very – an engaging and moving story of the gay rights movement and one of its heroes
Gay Positive? Very – although a tragic tale, it is fiercely empowering

This is the movie I wish Brokeback Mountain had been.

Don’t get me wrong – Brokeback Mountain was a masterpiece of film-making, and it was robbed of its rightful Academy Award. But I have a love-hate relationship with such movies – beautiful, moving, and important stories that are horribly tragic and unhappy. I’m glad that a gay love story finally hit the mainstream with Brokeback Mountain, but it did nothing to dispel myths like gay-love-is-doomed and bad-things-will-happen-to-you-if-you’re-gay.

Milk also brings a tragic story to the big screen: the assassination of gay rights pioneer Harvey Milk. Yet Milk is empowering in a way Brokeback Mountain was not. Instead of vaguely feeling bad about being gay, I felt inspired, charged up and ready to fight for my rights. Milk also brings to the big screen the struggle not just for equal rights but also for freedom from the physical and emotional violence that gay people have long endured.

Just this week, former Arkansas Governor Mike Huckabee claimed on The View that gay rights are not civil rights because gay people have not been subjected to a history of violence like black people. Such a willfully ignorant statement is nothing short of appalling; and yet, it is representative of a surprisingly large swath of the population. Many do not acknowledge or do not care about the persecution of gays in Nazi Germany; the institutionalized violence against gay people by police in previous decades and by religious organizations (like the Mormons using electro-shock therapy to “cure” homosexuality); and individual hate crimes that have claimed the lives of people like Matthew Shepherd.

Thank God for Milk, and what a timely film it is. The movie dramatizes Milk’s move to San Francisco and his subsequent rise to the position of City Supervisor (after several failed attempts). Once in the position, a significant portion of the movie details his fight against Proposition 6, which would have enabled the state of California to fire any teacher known to be gay along with any teacher who supported them.

Fast forward 30 years, and Californians once again vote on a proposition of concern to gay rights – Proposition 8, which successfully banned gay marriage (after the California Supreme Court legalized it).

My only criticism of the film falls on the editing, and I’m not sure what the Gus van Sant could have done differently. He’s just covering so much territory in the space of a couple of hours that much of the story gets told in fast-forward. Nevertheless, the movie was engrossing from start to finish, and the phenomenal acting from all quarters – both Sean Penn and Josh Brolin deserve extra mention – imbues the story with life.

Please see this movie. Please take your friends and family to see it. Particularly in the aftermath of Proposition 8’s passage, a lot of people seem to dismiss the gay community’s reaction as sore losers throwing a tantrum because they didn’t get their way. They do not – perhaps because they are not willing to – recognize how a group of people have been systematically oppressed throughout even the history of a country that espouses the values of equality and the separation of church and state.

Milk is a sad tale, but one encoupled with hope. I walked out of the theater both devastated and determined. One thing can be said of Harvey Milk: his hope lives on in those of us who are willing to embrace it.

“If a bullet should go through my head, let that bullet go through every closet door”

- Harvey Milk

Overall Quality 2.0 / 5.0 (some potential, but misses the goal)
Gay Inclusive? Very – the story focuses on a gay character putting together a gay soccer team
Gay Positive? Moderately – the gays prevail, but only in the midst of rampant homophobia

The gay pathos in this movie got old fast. Maybe I’m just over it in my own life, so I don’t have much patience for it in my entertainment. I wearied of both the difficulty the main character had in coming out, and the over-the-top homophobia thrown in his face. If it had been handled better, maybe I would have been moved. I wasn’t.

The film starts with Ecki (Maximilian Brückner), a soccer (i.e., European football) player on a local team, beginning to realize he might be gay. Neither his teammates nor his father (Dietmar Bär) react well. In fact, his teammates go into homophobe-overdrive. They say all kinds of hateful and nasty things, and then they kick him off the team. Ecki says he’s going to put together a gay team, and that his gay team will kick his former team’s collective ass in four weeks.

Yeah. The whole story is completely contrived. It’s sad too – I like all of the characters, and they imbue the movie with a kind of happy charm that kept me watching. But turn after turn, the story is just forced.

As one example (out of many): the leather daddy Rudi (Jochen Stern) who suddenly turns out to have an estranged son (Marcel Nievelstein) in the 3rd grade; after the obligatory and dramatic break-up of the gay team (”oh no! what will they do now!”), the son mysteriously shows up at his father’s house and helps rally some of the team members; and then the young son shows up at the actual game, all by himself, in a completely different city. That boys gets around! His mother, almost violently antagonistic toward Rudi when we first meet her, miraculously shows up 5 minutes later, and at the end of the movie she’s cheering Rudi’s soccer success. What?

The characters (well, the gay ones, anyway) are the highlight of the film. There’s the closeted guy. The alternative gender identity person. The three leather daddies in a 3-way relationship. A hunky and effeminate gay Turk. A couple of black players (who unfortunately turn out just to be set dressing). Ecki and his down-to-earth boyfriend, a nurse.

At first, I was a bit put off, especially by the crude leather daddies, but then I thought, why not? First, all of them turn out to be more nuanced than you’d expect. Second, they’re representative of a segment of the gay community. Finally, the thing the gay community really wants – equal respect – shouldn’t just apply to the “normal” gays. If we do that, we’re missing the point of the rainbow.

Check it out if you’re a fan of gay-oriented sports films (because, let’s face it, there aren’t a whole lot out there). Otherwise, give this one a pass.

Overall Quality 3.0 / 5.0 (pleasant but unfulfilling)
Gay Content 3.0 / 5.0 (well, definitely non-straight, anyways)
Gay Positivity 3.5 / 5.0 (mixed, but more positive than not)

I’d call 20 Centimeters a pleasant diversion that never really comes together.

Unfortunately, its most unusual features strike me as contrivances designed to lend interest to the story’s main plot. With stronger writing and direction, the central story wouldn’t needn’t the help – the pre-op transsexual Marieta (Mónica Cervera) wants to have a sex-change operation, but she finds herself in a romantic relationship that wouldn’t survive the procedure. Meanwhile, she’s a sex worker who plies specific fetishes while desperately trying to break into the world of conventional, gainful employment. Those dilemmas offer plentiful drama and tension.

As it is, the script is sloppy, and the movie tries to compensate with a couple of extraneous elements. Marieta is narcoleptic, and whenever she falls asleep, she dreams of multilingual musical numbers. Visually, the song-and-dance sequences are interesting, but I found their lyrics inane. Their content reflects Marieta’s mood but in most cases didn’t seem thematically helpful to the story.

I have mixed emotions about the conclusion. I don’t want to give it away, so I’ll put it this way: Marieta has to choose between her relationship with a hot guy (Raul, played by Pablo Puvol), and her relationship with her female identity. If she takes the former path, it means she’s learned to accept herself as she is, all parts intact, and found love and happiness, but she sacrifices her understanding of herself as a female in order to be with this man. If she takes the latter route, it means she’s being true to herself, which is always a path of integrity, but she loses a great relationship because she can’t make peace with herself-as-she-is. That’s how I see it, anyways – if I possessed a female gender identity while living in a male body, one ending might stand out to me as “better” than the other.

Marieta’s relationship with Raul interests me, and I wish the film had delved deeper into it. Raul does not see himself or Marieta as “fags,” even though he loves being the sexually passive partner, and the fact that Marieta has oversized male genitals. I understand that in many cultures, a man may not identify as gay as long as he is not the receptive partner, but that’s not the case here. Raul adheres to rigid sexual roles even though both he and Marieta clearly defy convention, which doesn’t strike me as gay-positive (i.e., gay is so bad, he falls into denial). On the other hand, they are in a sexually nebulous realm, and Raul is just applying one possibly interpretation (out of many) to their relationship. It may be the only sexual reference point he knows. Marieta is more worldly, and as a result, she is more sexually fluid. Still, her identity as unilaterally “female” is very powerful, and it drives the central plot.

If you’d like to watch an offbeat foreign musical with a gay element, check out Yes Nurse! No Nurse!.

One of the musical numbers:

The movie’s trailer:

Overall Quality 3.5 / 5.0
Gay Content 5.0 / 5.0
Gay Positivity 4.0 / 5.0

Homosexuality has a largely unhappy history in Western civilization. Thank God for men like Magus Hirschfeld (1868 – 1935), who stood up against prevailing conventional “wisdom,” and used science and basic respect to advance the cause of gay rights. Hirschfeld studied homosexuality scientifically; although we might disagree with some of his conclusions (he felt homosexuals were an “intermediate” sex), he dedicated his efforts to advocate on behalf of gay people.

The Einstein of Sex is a biopic which explores Hirschfeld’s life and work. The film is surprisingly engrossing. It’s fast-paced and well-acted, and it’s fascinating to watch the tension between Hirschfeld’s tireless work on behalf of other gay people with his inability to process his own homosexuality in a healthy way.

The props, set design, and cinematography also deserve special mention, especially considering the film is a low-budget independent feature. Each component contributes significantly to the film’s interest and success, and many scenes look like recreated photos from that era.

The film contains quite a bit of male nudity, but it never feels out of place. In a couple of scenes it comes close to gratuitousness, but it never crosses the line.

Unfortunately, the narrative structure undercuts the movie’s effectiveness. It’s choppy, rambling, and disjointed. “The Einstein of Sex” tries to cover too much territory:

• a biography spanning Hirschfeld’s entire personal life
• an ode to Hirscfeld’s work on behalf of gay rights
• a pseudo-documentary on the state of gay rights during that era

But this is a single movie, not a mini-series. As a result, everything gets underserved.

So while this film hasn’t earned a top-shelf slot in my DVD collection, I definitely recommend it for at least one viewing. It’s an entertaining slice of important homo-history that’s undertold.

The Gay Positivity score reflects that this movie covers a lot of negative territory ranging from gay-shame to gay-hate, but the central focus in on telling the story of someone who worked positively for gay rights with a tone of hopefulness for the future.

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For more information about Magnus Hirschfeld:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magnus_Hirschfeld
http://www.stonewallsociety.com/famouspeople/magnus.htm

Overall Quality 3.5 / 5.0 (recommended)
Gay Content 1.0 / 5.0
Gay Positivity 2.0 / 5.0

I enjoyed this novel, but it is not Simmons’ best work. That said, he is one of my favorite authors. If you are new to his books, start with “Hyperion” (if you like Sci-Fi) or “Summer of Night” (if you’re a horror fan).

“Ilium” stands as one of the most unusual Sci-Fi reads I’ve enjoyed in a long time. The narrative follows three overlapping threads. First, on Mars we find the Greek gods enacting or re-enacting the Trojan War (explicitly, “The Iliad” as written by Homer). These gods seem suspiciously high-tech. Unfortunately for them, thanks to our intrepid scholar-protagonist Thomas Hockenberry, events don’t go quite as planned. Second, the reader follows a group of sentient robots from Jupiter, who travel to Mars because of dangerous quantum distortions emanating from the planet. Finally, human civilization on Earth has seemingly returned to the semi-dark ages, and a group of old-style humans are trying to re-discover the universe.

The three storylines dovetail nicely with each other, and I liked the skillful juxtaposition of history, literature, philosophy, and Sci-Fi. Welcome to science fiction for college professors!

Simmons has mastered the art of raising intriguing questions while offering just enough tantalizing answers to keep the reader hooked. Who are the post-humans? Are the Greek gods post-humans, or something else? What happened to the old-style humans? What are the mysterious voynix? How is Odysseus apparently existing in two places at once? How and why can the old-style humans on Earth “watch” the re-enactment of the Trojan War? Simmons tends to end each chapter with the reader hanging on some important question or dramatic plot point; it can be hard to put this novel down.

On the other hand, I found myself skimming quite a bit. A lot of the conversations (which I assume he intended to be thought-provoking or literary) are prosaic and off-putting. I also felt strung along at times: there’s a fine line between withholding information to create tension and doing so to drag the story out. Simmons also occasionally gets lost in the minutia, for example, when the Jovian robots navigate the Martian seas.

Note that the novel ends with a cliffhanger. The story concludes in “Olympos.”

On the whole, “Ilium” presents an unusual and well-written read. I would recommend it for science fiction devotees, or fans of Homer’s “The Iliad” who are open to Sci-Fi. If you like this novel, definitely try Simmons’ stellar “Hyperion” series as well.

Regarding gay content, to my surprise the author makes several explicit references to homosexuality. Nevertheless, most of the mentions are brief: no characters are clearly gay, and there doesn’t appear to be any gay subtext in the novel, so I rated the Content Scale very low. Similarly, while Simmons never crosses the line into blatant homophobia, his comments hardly qualify as positive.

His novel involves several historical persons who are known or rumored to be gay, such as Shakespeare, Proust, and Achilles/Patroclus. In most cases, Simmons dismisses the theory. In fact, in one sequence one of the robot characters speaks with Shakespeare (don’t ask; it’s science fiction) and explicitly asks the Bard, who reacts violently. In the case of Achilles/Patroclus, the author allows some homoeroticism to exist between them but clearly (through sex acts) establishes them as heterosexual.

The overarching vibe of these mentions is that straight somehow trumps gay. His dismissive and lowbrow use of gay references disappoints me.

Original air date: 16 March 1992

Overall Quality 2.5 / 5.0 (not one of their finer efforts)
Gay Content 2.0 / 5.0 (it’s the closest they come to a gay episode, but it’s all allegory)
Gay Positivity 2. 0 / 5.0 (decidedly mixed, leaning towards negative)

“The Outcast” is one of the most important episodes in the Star Trek universe regarding the inclusion of gay content, and certainly the most important in The Next Generation. Note, however, that the episode includes no gay characters nor any gay relationships. The episode does not reference same-sex inclinations or pairings at all.

Plot Summary

The Enterprise is assisting the J’naii, a completely androgynous race, to track down a shuttle that’s gone missing. Commander Riker (Jonathan Frakes) works closely with a J’naii named Soren (Melinda Culea) to locate the shuttle, and Soren reveals that she is one of a minority of J’naii who was born with a gender identity…female, in her case. They begin a relationship, but J’naii society considers gender identity a sickness, and those who “suffer” from it are subject to psychotectic (i.e., reparative) therapy.

Jeri Taylor, who worked as a producer on the series, wrote the episode. Taylor is probably the most gay-friendly of all the producers associated with the Star Trek franchise (1).

The Strengths & Weaknesses

Commenting solely on the quality of episode, it’s a mixed bag. I found the exploration of an androgynous race to be thought-provoking. It seems unlikely that all alien species would reproduce through sexual dimorphism, and some form of asexual reproduction strikes me as a likely alternative.

But after Soren reveals she’s part of a persecuted minority, the episode changes tone into an issue-driven storyline.

The good part: she makes an intelligent, impassioned, and articulate argument against prejudice, and it’s easy to make the jump from the issue being gender identity to sexual orientation. I have included the full text of her argument at the end of Part Two of this article.

The bad part: delving into an issue-of-the-week story introduces an artificial feel to the plot, and forces the characters to become mouthpieces. That in turn alienates the viewer from the story, and the viewer becomes aware of the episode as a narrative with an agenda. It feels heavy-handed and forced, and it’s just less engrossing and enjoyable.

I wonder how much the final product diverged from Taylor’s original script. Taylor has proven herself a talented writer at other points, and I question whether the same or a similar message could have been conveyed through a more organic and engaging story.

It doesn’t help that the plot contains a series of contrivances. Why is Riker working on the project, and piloting the shuttle, instead of Geordi or Data? Because he needs to be working closely with Soren to develop feelings for her; screw the chain of command! Why would Worf make a blatantly sexist comment, and neither Doctor Crusher nor Counselor Troi get in his face about it? That’s out of character for all three. It’s because the script needs to make a point about gender and sexism, and they are the tools through which it’s done. But it’s jarring, and once again forces the viewer out of the story.

The Gay Content

Let’s place this episode in context. The year is 1992 (over 15 years ago from the date of this writing). In 1991, the sitcom Roseanne introduced a regular gay character, Leon (played by Martin Mull), which was extremely progressive at the time. Also in 1991, the red ribbon made its debt as a symbol of the campaign to stop AIDS.

Ellen wouldn’t come out until 1997, and Will & Grace wouldn’t premiere until 1998. Philadelphia, Brokeback Mountain’s spiritual precursor, wouldn’t open until 1993.

The major shows with gay characters or content in 1992 included: Roseanne, Northern Exposure, The Simpsons, One Life to Live, The Real World New York (the premiere season), and Melrose Place.

All of these shows were cutting-edge in their inclusion of gay characters or stories, and many fell far short of ideal. For example, Matt (Doug Savant) on Melrose Place was basically a genital-less Ken doll. Billy Douglas (Ryan Philippe) on One Life to Live was a troubled teen struggling with his sexuality in a homophobic environment.

Still, they all occurred at a time when any kind of representation on network TV was a step up from invisibility. And I think it’s important to remember that when considering “The Outcast.”
Expectations and Disappointment

Star Trek: The Next Generation’s two major mistakes were (A) trying to be inclusive by making homosexuality itself the story, and (B) including homosexuality only through allegory. The episode, on a literal level, isn’t gay inclusive at all.

Rick Berman says in Star Trek: The Next Generation Companion,

“We thought we had made a very positive statement about sexual prejudice in a distinctively Star Trek way, but we still got letters from those who thought it was just our way of ‘washing our hands’ of the homosexual situation” (2).

I suspect the producers thought that gay people wanted a “gay episode.” In the early days of gay inclusion on TV, that’s about the most we could hope for: that one episode that might revolve around gay themes, such as the gay wedding on Northern Exposure.

But that’s not really what gay and gay-friendly Star Trek viewers desired. Rather, they wanted full-throttle inclusion in the Star Trek universe. They wanted to see themselves portrayed within Starfleet, not necessarily as objects about which a story is told, but as part of the social milieu in which the stories are told. Gene Roddenberry’s 1991 comment only fueled the desire:

“My attitude toward homosexuality has changed. I came to the conclusion that I was wrong. I was never someone who hunted down ‘fags’ as we used to call them on the street. I would, sometimes, say something anti-homosexual off the top of my head because it was thought, in those days, to be funny. I never really deeply believed those comments, but I gave the impression of being thoughtless in these areas. I have, over many years, changed my attitude about gay men and women” (3).

Note that Roddenberry also told The Advocate that the fifth season of The Next Generation would include gay crew members (4). His comments raised hopes and expectations for gay inclusion, but I suspect a comment made by Ronald Moore in 1997 summarized the prevailing attitude in 1991:

“We have no plans to [include gay characters], chiefly because dealing with one’s sexual orientation in Gene’s 24th century is kinda simple: ‘Hey, Captain, I think I might be gay.’ ‘Okay. Now get back to fixing those transtators.’ It’s not really an issue to these people, so ‘exploring’ it doesn’t hold much promise” (5).

In other words, if a character’s sexual orientation is not explicitly and specifically germane to the plot, why bother addressing it at all? This homophobia is unintentional, the product of missing the point; but it still renders the gay person an outcast from the Star Trek universe. What an ironic title for this episode then.

But I digress from the show itself.

Please click for Part Two of my analysis of “The Outcast.”

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(1) It is said that Taylor suggested that Seven of Nine (Jeri Ryan) on Star Trek: Voyager should be a lesbian, although this idea was discarded. She also wrote a couple of important Star Trek: Voyager novels, including Pathways, which included secondary gay characters.

(2) Larry Nemecek, Star Trek: The Next Generation Companion, Pocket Books: 1992.

(3) David Alexander, “Interview with Gene Roddenberry: Writer, Producer, Philosopher, Humanist,” The Humanist, March/April 1991. The text can be read here: http://67.104.146.36/english/STAR_TREK/humanistinterview/humanist.html (retrieved 11 June 2008).

(4) Joe Clark, “Star Trek: The Next Generation – Queer Characters Join the Enterprise Crew,” The Advocate, 27 August 1991. The text of the article can be read here: http://www.webpan.com/dsinclair/advocate.html (retrieved 11 June 2008).

(5) “Answers,” Star Trek News, 16 July 1997, http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/6952/ron41.txt (retrieved 11 June 2008).

Original Title: Just une question d’amour

Overall Quality 4.0 / 5.0 (recommended)
Gay Content 4.5 / 5.0
Gay Positivity 2.5 / 5.0

University student Laurent (Cyrille Thouvenin) is terrified to come out to his parents. His cousin Marc came out to his own parents (Laurent’s aunt and uncle), who promptly kicked him out. Laurent’s parents, meanwhile, supported that decision. Laurent does not want to lose his parents, so he lives in the closet. In fact, he uses his best friend and roommate, Carole (Caroline Veyt), as a beard to deceive his parents.

So far, not very gay positive. We have the tired old story of the gay child in the closet, and we have parents who are rampantly anti-gay when it comes to their children (oddly, they seem amused by gay couples shopping for condoms at their pharmacy, but they resort to physical violence with their own flesh-and-blood). Laurent, for his part, is mostly okay with being gay. Except when it comes to his parents, and then he seems to feel deeply ashamed and disappointed in himself. He even tries to make himself straight for their benefit.

Yeah, it’s gay-positive-challenged.

Then Laurent meets the handsome Cédric (Stéphan Guérin-Tilli), for whom Laurent interns in the field of agronomy. Cédric’s mother Emma (Eva Darlan) is openly accepting of her son and tries to help Laurent’s parents to understand and accept their child. Cédric finds it difficult to accept Laurent’s closetedness and pushes Laurent to come out to his parents, causing their burgeoning relationship to splinter.

This made-for-TV French film is extremely well done, and the love story between Laurent and Cédric sweet to watch unfold. The two actors have real on-screen chemistry, and the movie does a great job of portraying their interactions realistically, from playfulness to passion to tenderness to tension. The acting is top-notch, and the story exceeds the scope of the clichéd coming-out tale with its involvement of Laurent’s best friend and Cédric’s mother. Laurent’s uncertainty about his sexuality is balanced by Cédric’s quiet confidence, and both characters offer the viewer enough depth and breadth that neither are stereotypes or caricatures.