The Prime Time Closet: A History of Gays and Lesbians on TV (23 page)

To expose the hatred, fear, intolerance, and ignorance at the root of homophobia, dramatic series and situation comedies generally approach homosexuality as an issue. When a series like
Dynasty
and
Melrose
Place included a gay character as a series regular, sustaining the character’s homosexuality as an “issue” challenged producers. Consequently, characters such as Steven Carrington and Matt Fielding were never developed to their full potential. Steven was essentially a hetero-curious homosexual, while Matt became a professional victim who landed in a series of unhealthy relationships. The limitations placed on both characters were imposed to some degree by the producers, often in response to the network, whose primary concerns were, as always, ratings and advertising revenue.

The shift to a more realistic style had a profound effect on how prime time dramas both represented and utilized gay characters. The sexual orientation of a gay or lesbian character was no longer an ongoing problem, nor the only aspect of his or her character. Consequently, gay characters were not only more three-dimensional, but no longer had to be treated as a stand-in for an entire sexual minority.

One of the first and best was
thirtysomething,
a slice-of-life character drama about seven yuppies — two couples and their three single friends, two of whom marry during the show’s four season run. In
Television’s Second Golden Age,
Robert J. Thompson includes
thirtysomething
in his discussion of “quality television” programs of the 1980s. Thompson lists the attributes that set series like
L.A. Law, Cagney and Lacey, Northern Exposure
(1990-1995),
Twin Peaks
(1990-1991), Picket Fences (1992-1996), and
thirtysomething
(1987-1991) apart, such as:

Thompson recounts how the critics and the public were split over
thirtysomething’s
seven main characters. Apparently, many people felt they were nothing more than whiny yuppies. Fans of the show, which garnered several awards, including the Emmy for Best Drama Series in its first year, praised it for emphasizing character over plot and taking its time to examine the minutiae of everyday life.

In the second season, photographer Melissa Steadman, wonderfully played by Emmy winner Melanie Mayron, befriends an artist, Russell Weller (David Marshall Grant), who she concludes is gay upon overhearing his phone conversation about a friend recently diagnosed with AIDS (“Trust Me”). Although Russell is only featured in five episodes and his appearances are spread out over the course of seasons two through four, we’re led to believe his friendship with Melissa has evolved off-screen. White, handsome, articulate, and upscale, Russell is by all appearances cut from the same cloth as the seven main characters. The fact he is gay, the mark of difference that marginalized characters like Steven Carrington and Matt Fielding, is entirely incidental. The producers assumed that was just fine with their viewers, so there was no need to include the standard “gay is O.K.” speech.

In a memorable and, at the time, controversial episode (“Strangers”), Russell has a one-night stand with Peter Montefiore (Peter Frechette), who works for the same advertising agency as Melissa’s cousin, Michael (Ken Olin). In the introduction to his publicized teleplay, writer Richard Kramer responded to all those who believed it was politically incorrect to have Russell and Peter sleep together on their first (and only) date. “That may be,” Kramer explained. “I was trying to write people and not role models.”

The fact that Peter and Russell have a one-night stand was not the issue. The controversy stemmed from a scene in which the pair are shown in bed together having a post-sex conversation about their first girlfriends, the friends they lost to AIDS, and the Italian translation of Peter’s last name (Montefiore means “mountain of flowers”). Kramer had intended to conclude the scene with the men embracing, but ABC already had sponsors pull their ads to the tune of $1.6 million (nixing any rerun over the summer), so the scene contains no physical contact.

But “Strangers” should be remembered for what it does show — Russell and Peter lying in bed talking, just like Michael and Hope (Mel Harris), Elliot (Timothy Busfield) and Nancy (Patricia Wettig), and Melissa and her boyfriend Lee (Corey Parker). Kramer saw Russell and Peter as a mirror for Melissa and Lee, who have entered that stage in their relationship when one partner starts to have doubts. In this case, it’s Melissa, who thinks her friends are judging her for going out with someone much younger. Her fears come to life in a series of embarrassing vignettes, in which Lee meets her friends for the first time. Eventually, Melissa realizes it’s her own self-judgment that is distorting how others perceive their relationship. She starts questioning whether they should be together for the same reason Russell never phones Peter back after their first date: the fear of letting someone get too close to you — so close you expose your true self to them.

The episode breaks new ground in terms of how gay characters are fully integrated on a thematic level into the storyline without homosexuality being “the issue.” Nor are the gay characters “heterosexualized” to the point of bleaching their gayness out. In addition, “Strangers” and a subsequent episode in which Peter discovers he is HIV positive (“Closing the Circle”) also demonstrate how the prevailing straight male mentality is either oblivious or paternalistic to the “gay other.” For example, Michael initially had no idea Peter was gay until Melissa told him, which is interesting considering that Michael is his boss. Furthermore, Peter tells Russell during their pillow talk session that he doesn’t want to make his co-workers uncomfortable (liberal Michael Steadman hardly seems the kind to care), yet he does make the point of saying he won’t lie to take a day off from work to attend a friend’s funeral.

The issue is raised once again during the show’s fourth season in an episode written by Kramer and Pulitzer Prize-winning writer Paul Monette, who died of AIDS in 1995. “Closing the Circle” focuses on Michael’s inability to let go of his friend Gary (Peter Horton), who is killed in an accident. Michael feels obligated to “fix” everything, though the people he is trying to help don’t want it. He assists Susannah (Patricia Kalember) with settling her late husband’s estate, but she doesn’t want or need Michael’s financial or emotional support. Michael becomes equally frustrated when Peter baits the agency’s owner, Miles Drentell (David Clennon) into firing him when they disagree over how to handle an account. When Michael rushes to the rescue, he finds out the real reason why Peter is upset — he’s HIV positive. He tries to counsel him as one friend to another, but as Peter rightfully points out, their friendship is limited to the office — Michael doesn’t really know anything about him or his life. In the end, Peter actually does follow Michael’s advice and returns to the agency because he needs his health insurance benefits.

Following the cancellation of
thirtysomething
in 1991, series creator Marshall Herskovitz and Ed Zwick branched out into feature films. Their production company, Bedford Falls, remained active in television and produced several subsequent quality hour dramas, such as
My So-Called Life
(1994),
Relativity
(1996-97), and
Once and Again
(1999-2002). Despite the critical attention all three received, only
Once and Again
survived longer than one season.

Created by
My So-Called Life
writer Jason Katims, whose other credits include the teen alien drama
Roswell
(2000-2002),
Relativity
included among its regulars a young lesbian named Rhonda (played by the terrific Lisa Edelstein, who later played a pre-op transsexual on
Ally Mc Beal
). The series stars an attractive couple, Isabel (Kimberly Williams) and Leo (David Conrad), who meet and fall in love in Italy and continue their romance at home in Los Angeles. The situation is complicated by Isabel’s existing engagement to straight-laced boyfriend Everett (Randall Batinkoff).

In the second episode (“Just One More Thing”), a parallel is made between Isabel’s break-up with Everett and Rhonda’s break-up with her lover Sylvie (Kathryn Morris). As in
thirtysomething,
the fact Rhonda’s a lesbian isn’t an issue. She’s a strong-minded, slightly neurotic woman who maintains a strong emotional bond with her brother, who offers her his love and support (and even accompanies her to a lesbian bar to spy on Sylvie).

In the same episode, there is a memorable scene in which Rhonda and Isabel share Leo’s bed (he gets the couch). In a rare moment of female bonding that transcends the usual heterosexual-homosexual boundaries, Rhonda and Isabel lie together, discussing and sharing their feelings about ending their respective relationships. The scene even caught the attention of GLAAD, who commended the producers for making Rhonda a “full, complex, and realistic character” and presenting “a fair and accurate look at the life of a lesbian...”
¹⁸

GLAAD also took notice when a January 11, 1997 episode featured a full, honest-to-God, on-screen kiss between Rhonda and her new girlfriend Suzanne (Kristin Dattilo), an earthquake expert. The scene was fully integrated into the episode, which also contained a love scene between Leo and Isabel in which he asks her to marry him — a proposal that catches both of them off-guard.

Rhonda was not the only lesbian character featured on a 1990s prime time drama.
Sisters
is an old-fashioned nighttime soap about the lives of the four Reed sisters (a fifth was added in April of 1993) who live in the small town of Winnetka, Illinois. Among its large ensemble cast is a straight-talking, no-nonsense gay TV producer played by
Saturday Night Live
veteran Nora Dunn. Norma Lear (as opposed to Norman) is a perfect match for Alex (Swoosie Kurtz), the oldest, wealthiest, and certainly the most colorful member of the family, who gets her own local talk show,
Alex Live!

Initially, she has difficulty warming up to Norma, who is abrasive, ambitious, and resentful of Alex landing her own show (the previous host had a heart attack on camera and Alex, who was his guest, was forced to take over). Once they clear the air and open up to one another, Norma reveals she is a lesbian. Of course, Alex misinterprets Norma’s sudden change in attitude as a romantic overture (Alex even feels uncomfortable getting undressed in front of her). When Alex’s mother Bea (Elizabeth Hoffman) hears about Norma through the Reed sister grapevine and brings up the subject to her daughter, Alex doesn’t want to discuss it because she thinks her mother doesn’t even know what a lesbian is. But Bea knows more from Alex because her best friend (who Alex refers to as “Aunt Evelyn”) is a lesbian. As Bea explains, once she came out to her, it brought them closer together. Alex gets the message and apologizes for her behavior. Norma assures her she’s only interested in her as a friend and colleague. Their friendship is sealed.

Although the situation is hardly original, it’s a bit of a stretch to think Alex, who seems smart and worldly, as least by Winnetka standards, would jump to the conclusion Norma is interested in her. Within in the context of the series as a whole, the episode (“Something in Common”) serves as a starting point for their friendship, A gay-straight friendship between two women or men is rare on television. So despite the show’s heavy-handed and, at times, maudlin treatment of subjects like divorce, breast cancer, and euthanasia, the producers are to be commended for allowing us to see Norma and Alex’s friendship develop, even though Norma’s homosexuality is still occasionally an “issue.”

In subsequent episodes, Norma is forced to come out to her parents, Ben (John Lehne) and Gladys (Elizabeth Franz) when Alex arranges a surprise visit without Norma’s knowledge so they can see their daughter win an award (“Life Upside Down”). Norma tries to remedy the situation by convincing Alex’s brother-in-law Mitch (Ed Marinaro) to pose as her husband. But Norma comes to her senses and puts an end to the charade, even though she runs the risk of losing her parents. Ben tells his daughter he is proud of her, but Gladys is less receptive. When Norma gives birth to her daughter (“Deceit”), Gladys attempts to sue her daughter for custody. If anything, Norma adds some much needed spice to the series, created by Ron Cowen and Dan Lipman, who’d go on to adapt the British miniseries
Queer as Folk
for American television.

In his analysis of “quality television” in the 1990s, Robert Thompson asserts that the “shocking iconoclasm for its own sake became more associated with ‘quality’ than solid stories told in more traditional ways.”
²⁰
“Quirky” is the word critics used most often used to describe dramas like
Twin Peaks, Northern Exposure,
and
Picket Fences,
all of which featured off-beat characters living in a small, remote town where surreal and inexplicable events often occur. The respective settings of each series — Twin Peaks, Washington; Cicely, Alaska
(Northern);
Rome, Wisconsin
(Picket)
— seem tailor-made for characters that live off the beaten path and are considered, for whatever reason, to be on the margins of the heterosexual mainstream.

In a world in which everything and everyone is a little bit off, gay and transgender visitors often feel right at home. When D.E.A. Agent Dennis/Denise Bryson (David Duchovny) arrives in Twin Peaks to investigate drug theft allegations against Special FBI Agent Dale Cooper (Kyle MacLachlan), he’s wearing a dress. Bryson explains that while posing as a transvestite during a sting operation, he realized wearing women’s clothing relaxes him. Cooper is amazed by Bryson’s discovery and is completely supportive of his lifestyle choice.

Another fictional town that lies far to the northeast of Twin Peaks is Cicely, Alaska, the setting for the CBS drama,
Northern Exposure.
In the pilot episode, a young New York doctor, Dr. Joel Fleischman (Rob Morrow), arrives in Cicely to fulfill his service to the state of Alaska, which picked up his $125,000 med-school tab. Fleischman has difficulty adjusting to living in a small town, particularly one that’s in the middle of nowhere and inhabited by a group of eccentric characters, such as the strong-minded Maggie O’Connell (Janine Turner), a bush pilot from Grosse Point; the philosophical Chris Stevens (John Corbett), the local disc jockey who served time for grand theft auto; and the enterprising Maurice Minnifield (Barry Corbin), an ex-astronaut with a $68 million fortune who wants to turn Cicely into a tourist mecca.

When Ron (Doug Ballard) and Erick (Don R. McManus) arrive in Cicely (“Slow Dance”) and offer to transform an abandoned building on Maurice’s property into an inn, he’s glad to sell it to them. He’s also pleased to discover he has so much in common with his new neighbors — they’re also ex-Marines who love antiques, gourmet cooking, and show tunes (Maurice’s collection includes the complete Mitzi Gaynor and a bootleg Ethel Merman). What he doesn’t know is they’re a gay couple, which sends homophobic Maurice into a tizzy. When he discovers the truth, he gives Chris his show album collection, soufflé dish, and fondue pot. Chris warns him about overreacting, because men who freak out about homosexuals usually have tendencies themselves. But Maurice still doesn’t want Cicely overrun by “nancy boys,” so he backs out of his offer. Erick and Ron think he’s just using the “no fairies” rule to jack up the price. They make Maurice a higher offer, which he can’t refuse because it wouldn’t be wise to let his personal feelings interfere with a business deal.

With the exception of Maurice, Erick and Ron are completely welcomed in Cicely because it’s a town where people from different social, cultural, ethnic, and economic backgrounds peacefully co-exist. In the episode’s final scene, a slow song is playing on the jukebox at the Brick, Cicely’s main (and only) hangout. Everyone is slow dancing to the music, including Ron and Erick, though nobody seems to notice or care that the two men are dancing together. Then again, they’re not the first same sex couple to dwell in Cicely (see pg. 134).

Maurice is also the only voice of dissent when the couple decides to tie the knot after eight years. The whole town is invited to the wedding, which Maurice has no intention of attending; even though, according to Erick’s mom (Joyce Van Patten), her son looks up to Maurice as a father figure. When Erik has a fight with Ron over the wedding arrangements, he tells Maurice he’s leaving town. Maurice finds himself convincing Erick to go ahead with the wedding because he and Ron seem as “happy as a couple of cuckoo birds” and it’d break his mother’s heart (which Maurice points out he did once already with his “proclivities”). So the Reverend Chris Stevens, who obtained his divinity degree through an ad in the back of
Rolling Stone,
pronounces the couple “married.”

“I Feel the Earth Move” is typical of the series, which often centers on an event that brings the Cicely community together. Producer Diane Frolov describes Cicely as a “non-judgmental universe...[where] a gay marriage is a natural part of the fabric of this place.”
²¹
Unfortunately, two CBS affiliates in the deep south, KNOE-TV of Monroe, Louisiana and WTVY-TV of Dothan, Alabama, believed there was nothing natural about two men getting married, and chose not to air the episode. In addition, the Nestlé Corporation withdrew sponsorship at the last minute. Still, CBS stood by the episode and accused the two affiliates, in the words of one spokeswoman, of “condemning a program they haven’t seen, and we think the program is in good taste.”
²²
Meanwhile, The Rev. Donald E. Wildmon, president of the American Family Association, referred to CBS’s decision to “give the homosexual lifestyle such warm approval” as “tragic.”
²³
He accused the networks of caving in “to pressure from the radical wing of the homosexual movement.”
²⁴

On the other end of the spectrum, GLAAD/LA Executive Director Lee Werbel criticized the episode for not showing the couple kissing: “Stripping of a big part of an important aspect of any individual’s life is rude, insensitive, and sends a clear message to society that gay people are very different...[it’s a] real kick in the face to lesbians and gay men, and non-gay people across the country.”
²⁵

According to Frolov, the producers decided not to turn Erick and Ron’s marriage into an issue, which they knew would happen if the two men kissed. “The things the show is really about will get lost if all people are focusing on is the idea of two men kissing,” Frolov explains, “That’s what happened with
Roseanne.
The episode [“Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” with Mariel Hemingway] wasn’t even about that kiss.”
²⁶
Is the absence of a kiss at the end of the ceremony noticeable? While I understand Frolov’s rationale, have you ever been to a wedding where the couple didn’t kiss at the end of the ceremony?