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 4.0 / 5.0 (entertaining, if light, read)
Gay Inclusive? Moderately – two secondary gay characters
Gay Positive? Very – both characters are well-rounded and important to the story

Okay, yeah, I have to admit – the plot is nothing new. Mysterious Monster Makes Mayhem; Sassy Star Saves the Day.

Specifically, the vampires are up to no good – a newly made vampire possessed by a demon begins wrecking havoc on the Mercy Thompson’s small community. It’s up to her, along with her werewolf allies and lone vampire friend, to figure out what’s going on and put a stop to it.

Once again, with textured characters and a involving alternate world, the author brings the story to life. It says a lot about the characters when they each have their own minor concerns that almost rival the main story for interest.

For example, Mercy’s gay werewolf cowboy friend (whew!) Warren returns. At one point, he’s wounded by the Big Bad of the story; and certain members of his pack – sensing weakness in a guy they never really cared for because he’s gay – try to take advantage to knock Warren from his position in the pack. It’s a relatively minor thread, but the relationships (good and bad) that exist between these characters possess a vitality that keeps me turning pages as fast as I can.

On the other hand, the fact that subplots nearly eclipse the main story doesn’t speak well of the main story. Considering Briggs’ inventiveness in her world-building, it’s a bit of a let-down to find the central plot to be relatively formulaic.

Nevertheless, Blood Bound was an immensely entertaining and enjoyable read with an exciting climax and meaty denouement (an improvement over the first book’s conclusion). A great read for a rainy Sunday afternoon.

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See also my review of the first Mercy Thompson book, Moon Called.

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 2.0 / 5.0
Gay Content 5.0 / 5.0
Gay Positivity 4.5 / 5.0

The series has hit a new low in Season 3.

The events at the end of Season 2 opened the door for the House of Shadows to return to Dante’s Cove and wreck havoc. Meanwhile, Griffen (Jensen Atwood), a representative of the “council of Tresum,” shows up to throw a wrench into everything by taking Diana’s (Thea Gill) power. Kevin (Gregory Michael) is still Ambrosius Vallin’s (AKA Bro, William Gregory Lee) sex slave, but he is desperately conniving to escape and get back to Toby (Charlie David), who in the meantime is being seduced by straight-boy-turned-gay Adam (Jon Fleming).

After the first season, Here! TV started billing Dante’s Cove as a “guilty pleasure.” I’d say Season 2 was reasonably successful in that vein. Season 3 is just bad, however. Not so bad it’s good, just bad.

Awful, cringe-worthy writing. Check. Lame special effects. Oh, yeah. (Season 2 had much better effects, for some reason). Questionable directorial choices. Yup. Clunky, wooden acting. You know it.

Even the sex and nakedness irritated me! They had a sex scene every ten to fifteen minutes. It bothers me that they used it as a substitute for story-telling. If I want to watch porn, I’ll watch real porn. Full-frontal nudity appeared even more often than the sex. Unfortunately, they really only included one “type” of guy – muscle-bound – and I didn’t really find many of the naked guys that appealing.

To tell you the truth, though, the thing that hurts the show the most: there’s no one to root for. Grace (Tracy Scoggins), previously a villain, became my favorite character this season. Thea Gill was wasted, and they didn’t reveal whether Griffen was a villain or hero until last episode or two. Everyone else turned evil, selfish, or stupid; or they were new, and I didn’t have a chance to develop an emotional investment in their character.

I understand that this is a soap opera, and it’s intended to be over-the-top. They’re aiming for so-bad-it’s-good, but they made some poor choices, and overshot.

On the plus side, Grace’s character gets the royal treatment: she has the best, most evocative storyline. Scoggins takes full advantage of it. Atwood brings a much needed low-key performance to the show. It also remains refreshingly gay-positive.

Here’s my wish-list for Season 4 of Dante’s Cove. The writers of Supernatural take over, and Dean (Jensen Ackles) and Sam (Jared Padalecki) roll into town. Can you imagine the possibilities? I can… Mmmmm.

A gratuitous picture of Sam and Dean from the CW’s Supernatural:

Overall Quality 3.5 / 5.0 (recommended)
Gay Content 4.0 / 5.0
Gay Positivity 3.5 / 5.0

The Curiosity of Chance is an 80’s flashback movie. The titular character Chance, played by Tad Hilgenbrink, has transferred to a new international school in Europe (his father, Chris Mulkey, is apparently stationed overseas). Chance must defend himself against the bully jock (Brad, played by Maxim Maes).

Yeah, the film suffers from several weaknesses that prevent it from truly shining. Most of the characters are completely one-note, and the plot is both contrived and meandering. “Edge of Seventeen” (1998) did this genre with a deeper, more moving script. (As a side note, Hilgenbrink bears a striking resemblance to Chris Stafford in “Edge of Seventeen“).

A couple of minor twists help: Chance is already out, and his father’s reaction is repeatedly unexpected. I kept expecting his military dad to fall into stereotypical “No son of mine is going to be a fairy,” but he never does. Refreshing.

On the whole, I like this movie, though. It’s entertaining and pleasantly positive. Tad Hilgenbrink is fantastic: he carries this film. He breathes life into a cardboard character, and he has the absolute best sense of comic timing of anyone in this film.

I also like Brett Chukerman as good-guy jock Levi … or maybe I mean I like looking at Brett Chukerman … He ably imbues his character with crucial likability, but he did stronger work as Marc in “Eating Out 2″ (2006).

Having said that, Chukerman’s character represents a great and innovative twist in the movie. The viewer spends most of the movie wondering if he’s gay, and if he’s going to get together with Chance. For myself, I was torn.

On the one hand, I like the idea of a really cool straight jock who’s totally gay-friendly. On the other hand, I wanted Chance to get together with the hot jock. I don’t want to give anything away, but the movie tries to have it both ways – and largely succeeds! Some viewers might feel the ending was a cop-out, but I found the ambiguity well-handled.

The Curiosity of Chance is an entertaining and amusing diversion with some really great, and gay-positive, twists. Don’t expect great cinema, but it’s good fun.

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).

The movie derives most of its drama from the protagonist’s difficulty in accepting his own homosexuality, and from the fag-bashing of his boyfriend, bringing the Gay Positivity score down.

Taking a hit on the “Positivity” scale doesn’t mean the quality of the film was bad. It’s just that most images of gay people in the media (movies, TV, and books) are negative, involving discrimination, beatings, disease, death, and other tragedies. That is not to say these things don’t happen in real life, but the sheer volume of these negative images, in my opinion, reinforces the already strong but false notion that if you’re gay, it automatically follows that either bad things will happen to you, or you ARE bad. The “Positivity” scale is intended to indicate to the potential viewer where the movie falls in this spectrum.

This movie has a sweetness to it, and ends well, so I would say it is more positive than not, but it is nevertheless one of the pool of movies that focuses on the negativity of being gay (the trauma of accepting, gasp, oh my god, how horrible, I might be gay! as well as a vicious assault on a gay person).

The acting is a bit wooden at points, but there’s an earnestness to the performances (especially the protagonist Griff, portrayed by Daniel Chilson) that make the characters endearing and engaging. In fact, despite the heaviness of the storyline (this is no comedy, folks), the script is relatively low-key in its presentation, and the film rarely falls into melodrama.

And as I mentioned, there is also a tenderness to this movie that makes it very re-watchable (I’ve seen it two or three times now). Also, although I personally tend to prefer happy gay movies (rare though they are), I recognize the importance of telling stories like this one.

I particularly enjoyed the scene when Griff (Chilson) and his best friend are on a mountaintop reflecting – the bonding between the friends, Griffs positive self-realization, and the tantalizing and brief flashback create a thoughtful scene that exceeds the sum of its parts. These factors give the film most of its points in the “Quality” category. Otherwise, the movie is a bit more pedestrian – decently scripted, directed, and acted without being truly standout.

Maybe one step above a Lifetime movie of the week, “Hate Crime” tells a more complicated story than the title first suggests. The hate in this movie flows in more than one direction and from more than one source; so too the crimes.

The ostensible hate crime is the vicious beating of Trey (Brian J. Smith), shortly before his marriage (okay, well, “commitment ceremony” – this film does take place in North Texas) with partner Robbie (Seth Peterson).

The movie benefits from (a) a thought-provoking treatment, particularly the last act; (b) an absolutely fantastic cast; and (c) the sweet, almost idyllic (virtually unusually so) presentation of the Robbie’s and Trey’s relationship.

From there, the movie drifts into the realm of made-for-television crime procedural with a moral – although it’s not entirely clear what that moral is. The movie spends most of the build-up trying to spell out that religious fundamentalism is bad and destructive. Not that I disagree, but I was unimpressed with the caricatured and vituperative approach. Certainly, I don’t want to lend credence to anti-gay viewpoints; I don’t think they have any credence.

But neither do I want to treat them the way they treat me; how am I then any different from them (1)? Ah, but those are the exact questions the film raises in its last act, which helps redeem (in part) the heavy-handed approach earlier. If anything, the film makes clear there are no easy answers.

The director (Tommy Stovall) owes many thanks to his talented cast for bringing the story to life; they help smooth over the one-dimensional bits and infuse the rest with power and interest. Seth Peterson as lead protagonist deserves particular kudos; I am extremely impressed with his emotional, nuanced performance. Bruce Davison also does a fantastic job, managing to convey unexpected depths in an otherwise poorly written and stereotypical role (I almost expected his character to spontaneously sprout a mustache so he could twirl it while laughing, “Mwa-ha-ha-ha!”).

The American Psychological Association has produced an interesting and thorough article on hate crimes, which says about anti-gay crimes, “Ideology assailants report that their crimes stem from their negative beliefs and attitudes about homosexuality that they perceive other people in the community share. They see themselves as enforcing social morals” (1). That clearly describes the villain(s) in “Hate Crime.”

Unfortunately, the subplots tend to drag the rest of the story down. They’re poorly scripted, more like half-hearted attempts. It’s as if the director couldn’t decide: Did he want to take a thorough, comprehensive look at the fallout from a vicious attack? If so, where’s the media? Where’s the public response? The police detectives would be subject to greater pressure than just internal prejudices. Or did the director want to focus on the more immediate devastation wrought on those closest to the victim, and thus tell instead a powerful, personal story? At the end, some of the subplots even go unresolved.

Regarding the gay content and positivity of the film, I have a fairly multilayered reaction, ranging from positive to negative. For one thing, I feel frustrated. Robbie and Trey are a really cute couple, and I love seeing them portrayed in such an engaging, sympathetic way. It’s devastating to see their family broken by a vicious attack.

So, on the positive side, I really like the positive portrayal of the characters and their relationships with each other and families. This also means that I’m emotionally engaged in the movie, and the crucial plot point of the gay bashing has a big impact on me. That’s exactly what a good film wants to do.

But. As I said, one of my reactions to this film is frustration. Because there are so many images of broken gay families, destroyed either by outside forces (as in “Hate Crime”) or by internal dynamics reflective of negative stereotypes (i.e., the inability to gay people to form lasting relationships).

Where are the films with Robbie and Trey – these great, engaging guys in a loving, committed, successful relationship – where they live happily after ever?

Kudos the filmmakers behind “Hate Crime” for crafting a suspenseful, important story with engaging characters. But the story’s resolution, while interesting and satisfactory on one level, doesn’t leave me feeling good or gay-positive.

Does the movie really succeed in condemning hate crimes, given the way the crime is ultimately answered?

(WARNING – MAJOR Spoiler Alert where I discuss the problematic ending in more detail)

When the hero kills the villain, I have the sense of much greater meaning behind the scene than just one person shooting another. Rather, it’s killing someone who stands in as a symbol of every anti-gay sentiment. There’s a kind of schadenfreude or catharsis in that scene.

And yet, does killing the villain bring back the victim? Does it redeem the loss, or reduce the hero to the villain’s level? I like the question as a thematic device; but for the emotional experience of watching the film, as I said, it doesn’t leave me feeling good or gay-positive.

Consider the words of Malcolm X: “You’re not supposed to be so blind with patriotism that you can’t face reality. Wrong is wrong, no matter who does it or says it.” Substitute the word “patriotism” with a sense of isolation and victimization by social homophobia, and we come to the same moral conclusion.

And where does that leave the gay positivity? I frequently complain that the images of gay people in the media (such as film) fall into one or both of two basic categories: if you’re gay, either you are bad, or bad things will happen to you. It’s not intrinsically wrong for a film to include portrayals like this. The difficulty arises because of the lack of positive counter-images. “Hate Crime” compromises its important social message by throwing a little of column A in with a lot of column B; it certainly loses some gay positivity points from me.

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(1) American Psychological Association Position Paper on Hate Crimes, 1998, http://www.apa.org/releases/hate.html (7 September 2007).