All American’s Latest Episode Features More Clichés and Family Drama with a Compelling Ark of LGBT Self-Acceptance on the Side

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Taye Diggs and Daniel Ezra in All American (2018)

With every new week, All American has impressed me more and more, and this week is no exception. ‘Poor kid enters into rich lifestyle’ isn’t the most revolutionary premise, and I’ll admit, I originally started watching the show because I was starting to miss Cody Christian’s Teen-Wolf-sized absence in my life. I was pleasantly surprised however with how invested I quickly became in in the array of characters the show has on offer. It’s far from perfect, but I rarely go into low-budget teen shows expecting all that much, so let’s just say it’s exceeded my expectations so far. Sports shows especially, aren’t usually my cup of tea, but All American manages to weave in enough drama and social commentary to keep me interested.

I had hoped to get a glimpse of Spencer’s father this episode, with Spencer deciding to visit one of his team’s football matches – no such luck, however. Having apparently quit the team, the father remains elusive for now. It looks like we’ll be learning more about him next week though; Jordan and Olivia’s grandfather suggests at the end of the episode that there is something more to Coach Billy’s history with Spencer’s parents. He asks Billy, “how do you think [Spencer]’s going to react when he finds out what really happened?” Looks like there is no shortage of drama to come. As long as said drama isn’t about Billy still somehow being Spencer’s real dad, I’ll be happy.

I was glad to see this week’s episode bring (what I hope is) an end to the question of Spencer’s parentage – I’ll be pretty frustrated if they do bring back the possibility of Billy being his father. Potential incest has never been my favourite plot point, but I did enjoy where it led in this episode. The investigation became more of an exploration of Olivia and Jordan’s relationship with their father than anything else. Their ‘detective duo’ dynamic was definitely an episode highlight for me and it was a much-needed break from the Olivia/Spencer awkwardness of the previous episode.

Love triangles were never my favourite plot point either, and every episode that moves further from the original Spencer/Olivia/Layla setup is a good one in my book. There are still traces here and there, but it’s shifted mostly into the background for now. Instead, Layla’s relationship with Asher has been receiving more focus in the last few episodes. It’s rare to see the ‘popular girl dates popular guy who’s a bit of an ass’ trope get all that much development, so I’d call that a happy surprise. If it weren’t for the whole ‘Asher cheating on Layla with Olivia thing,’ I’d actually quite like them together. At least Asher told Layla about losing his money; it’s a good indicator that he does genuinely care about her, which I appreciate. What can I say… I’m a sucker for honesty and healthy communication?

But back to the cheating thing – another trope I don’t love. In this episode we see Olivia open up to Jordan about sleeping with Asher. This show really has a habit of reusing tired tropes, but then shaking up the norm just enough for me to almost forgive them for it… almost. Olivia and Jordan’s sibling dynamic is one of the more interesting relationships on the show, and the scene is actually quite compelling as a result. It starts with Olivia conceding she’s, “sorry [they’re] not close anymore.” She admits she had pushed him away, eventually revealing that she and Asher had slept together whilst they were both drunk a year prior. Jordan is justifiably upset. I’m guessing this revelation will drive quite the wedge in Jordan and Asher’s bromance, which should be interesting to see play out; it’s about time this whole thing unravelled (and about time Layla finds out).

The highlight of the episode for me was Coop’s subplot, in which she struggles with the idea of being in an openly gay relationship. She begins pushing away her love interest, Patience, lying to her about not wanting to go out on a public date. Coop ruminates on this throughout the episode and discusses it with Spencer at his party. It’s a small detail, but I really enjoy how Spencer pays close attention to his friend’s life, unlike so many main characters. Their friendship is one of the more believable and healthy relationships on the show, and their conversations are more balanced than your average main character/best friend; they actually come off as equals. Spencer is quick to point out why Coop hadn’t brought Patience with her, saying “you and me, we gotta stop worrying about the parents rejecting us.”

Coop admits to Patience that a part of her is still ashamed and afraid of openly admitting her sexuality. However, she indicates she doesn’t want to hide anymore, asking Patience, “do you think you could help me with that?” Patience agrees, and we see a shot of them holding hands out in public later in the episode. This was definitely a plotline I appreciated as an LGBT+ person myself, as it showed how some of the most basic things can become a challenge for those in a gay relationship. All American often shines a light of more subtle elements of social inequity (usually racism) in a way that never seems forced; it’s just a part of the character’s day to day lives. It demonstrates a level of nuance that I wasn’t expecting when I embarked upon the show.

All American has some real potential to become a quite compelling show, and I can only hope it gets the more attention in the meantime so that it has a chance at scoring a second season. The next few episodes might just make or break the show; if it carries on with too many clichés, it may suffocate its more promising elements.

Bohemian Rhapsody and the “B” Word | A Bisexual Perspective

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Rami Malek and Gwilym Lee in Bohemian Rhapsody (2018)

Rami Malek’s portrayal of Freddie Mercury in recent film, Bohemian Rhapsody, sparked widespread debate in the LGBT+ community for its divisive portrayal of Mercury’s bisexuality. Going into the film as a bisexual myself, I wanted so very much to be satisfied with the film’s representation, but when I walked out of the cinema, I’ll admit I was unsure. I immediately sought the internet for some clarity and was met with even more confusion.

There were those who ripped into the film for Mercury not being gay enough, and there were others who believed the film dismissed his bisexuality by presenting him a full-fledged gay in denial. Many defended the film, praising it for the scene in which Mercury admits to his fiancé that he believes he “might be bisexual.” Keeping with this perspective, his fiancé’s immediate dismissal where she tells Mercury that he is in fact gay, is an accurate portrayal of what it is often like as a bisexual; everyone’s always telling you that you’re just a straight person looking for attention (or ‘exploring’), or alternatively that you’re really just a gay person in denial. Others have criticised the film’s negative portrayal of Mercury’s gay manager, Paul Pretner, who was shaped into the film’s manipulative villain, leading Mercury astray into a life of gay temptation and frivolity that lead to Mercury’s eventual downfall. I must agree that it doesn’t paint a pretty picture.

In a recent interview with The View, Rami Malek commented on the film’s coverage of Mercury’s sexuality. In response to interviewer referring to Mercury as a “gay icon,” Malek states, “There is definitely a story there we could have delved deeper into. I don’t think that it’s glossed over… He talks about not wanting to be a poster boy for the disease. He wants to make music, and I think that he’s a revolutionary because he lived his most authentic life.” Malek makes a point to emphasise Mercury’s bisexuality as he continues, “Little did people know that he did have a six-year relationship with a woman who he called the love of his life, who is the only person who knows where his ashes are. He was engaged to [her], put a ring on that finger, and then he discovered he was bisexual, was gay. He is definitely a gay icon and a hero for everyone.” Malek appears deeply invested in ensuring his portrayal of Mercury is both accurate and respectful, conscious to emphasise the significance of the star’s relationships with both the men and women in his life. That’s about all I can ask of an actor representing my sexuality on such a large scale.

I would say the good outweighs the bad in Bohemian Rhapsody, having recommended the film to many a friend since watching it myself. I don’t believe the filmmakers or the actors involved had any intention of portraying Mercury’s bisexuality in a negative or dismissive light, but I must agree that the matter was handled carelessly by the filmmakers. I think we must give viewers enough credit to be able to separate Mercury’s downfall from his sexuality, but the film certainly buys into a number of stereotypes and patterns in modern media that are harmful to perceptions of the LGBT+ community. I know I would have liked to see more explicit clarification of Mercury’s bisexuality, but I can understand how this detail may have been overlooked by filmmakers intent on telling a story about music. Whilst these are certainly valid points of discussion, they don’t make Bohemian Rhapsody a bad or homophobic film as some have claimed. We shouldn’t let these faults overpower the significance of seeing such widespread representation and discussion of bisexuality in the media. When I sat in the packed cinema and I heard the word ‘bisexual’ coming from the mouth of the icon that is Freddie Mercury, I felt proud; I felt seen, and no criticisms can diminish that feeling.

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend on Fan Culture’s Over-Obsession with ‘Shipping’

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David Hull, Rachel Bloom, Michael McMillian and Pete Gardner in Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (2015)

The CW’s hit comedy musical series, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, is known for pushing the boundaries of television, featuring songs such as “Period Sex,” “I Gave You a UTI” and my personal favourite, “Sexy Getting Ready Song,” which details the disturbing (and sometimes painful) lengths women go to in order to make themselves more appealing to men. With ever-bold lead actress and co-creator, Rachel Bloom at its helm, the show never fails to shy away from topics that others might deem too controversial to air.

Now well into its fourth and (self-imposed) final season on the air, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend continues to push these boundaries further, with recent episode, “I’m So Happy for You”, featuring the song, “The Group Mind Has Decided You’re In Love.” The song is a direct call-out to the show’s fanbase, and fan-culture in general, exposing fans unhealthy and borderline creepy tendency to become overly invested in the activity of ‘shipping’ romantic relationships.

“The Group Mind Has Decided You’re In Love” zeros in on the characters Darryl and White Josh, who had dated throughout the show’s early seasons before breaking up in the third season due to Darryl being set on having a baby – whereas White josh decidedly did not. Despite this significant barrier, the two remain friends in season 4. Their friends eventually conclude (as many of the shows fans have) that they should simply get back together –despite neither one deviating from what separated them in the first place.

The song makes a point of how overly-invested and illogical shippers can be, attempting to force two characters together regardless of their wishes. They argue, “your relationship is important to us!” – as if this is more important than the individual character’s wants and needs. Darryl and White Josh are diminished by the swarm of fangirling characters around them, who, whilst claiming to be invested in their lives, reduce them to their relationship – just another cute gay couple to help them distract themselves from problems in their own lives. White Josh even comments towards the end of the song, “so it’s not about us at all anymore,” as the mob leaves them on the sidelines. The song doesn’t demonise shipping; it’s simply a light-hearted jab at the fanbase. This is a pretty common theme in Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, especially when it comes to pointing out fans’ obsession with romance.

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend makes it clear very early on in season one that the main focus of the show is not (and will never be) the outcome of Rebecca’s romantic pursuits. Fans rooting for one of Rebecca’s love interests to win her over in the end are clearly not paying enough attention. Showrunner, Aline Brosh McKenna confirmed this in Vanity Fair’s 2016 interview, stating, “the show is never about this boy or that boy. The show is always about [Rebecca’s] struggle for identity, and her coming of age.”

In earlier seasons, Rebecca’s focus is very much on her romantic relationships, and the show makes a point of why this is such an unhealthy mindset for Rebecca at the time. This puts fans in a difficult position, as shipping is such deeply-ingrained part of fan culture. Crazy Ex-Girlfriend challenges its fans to put Rebecca’s needs first, as she must also do, constantly tempting fans with new potential love interests, before quickly making a point of why they are not right for her. The result is an important (albeit sometimes cruel) lesson that a character’s happiness cannot be derived from any one relationship.

“The Group Mind Has Decided You’re in Love” reminds audiences of this same lesson. Darryl and White Josh’s relationship may have been enjoyable for fans to watch (and I’ll admit a part of me is still rooting for them to end up together) but at the present, the healthiest thing for both of their characters is to remain apart and move on as friends.

Boy Erased: A Powerful but Hard-to-watch Film

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Lucas Hedges and Troye Sivan in Boy Erased (2018)

There are few films that I would, without doubt, never watch again; Boy Erased is one of them. This isn’t to say that it’s a bad film – far from it – but it is certainly a harrowing experience for LGBT+ viewers. When I walked into the cinema with my fellow gay friends in tow, I was expecting the film to be an emotional experience, but I wasn’t prepared for just how closely it would hit home. Boy Erased tells an important story. It isn’t overly sensationalised; it tells a very real story, exploring the way in which subtle, rationalised instances of homophobia can chip away at an individual.

The film expertly captured the experiences of an LGBT person grappling with religion. I could see so much of myself in the main character, Jared Eamons, despite our many differences. I wasn’t raised in a religious setting, and my parents barely blinked an eye the first time I told them I was going on a date with a girl. All in all, I’d consider myself pretty fortunate as far as the whole gay acceptance thing goes, but I found Jared’s journey painfully relatable all the same. I saw myself in his struggles with internalised-homophobia; the reservations that plagued his mind, holding him back from accepting himself for who he truly was, they were the same reservations I still contemplate in my weaker moments. I found myself hopelessly lost in the film, feeling utterly exposed and at its mercy as I prayed that it would offer up some source of hope before its conclusion.

Jared’s frustrations and moments of self-hatred resonated with everyone in my party of three – what LGBT+ person hasn’t felt that way at some point? It doesn’t matter how much you love yourself, or tell yourself there’s nothing wrong with what you are, there will always be moments where you can’t help but wish for an easier life. This part of myself – the part I don’t like to think about – this is what I saw reflected in Jared. It is this that makes the viewing experience simultaneously important and challenging.

The film managed to produce this visceral reaction, despite its lack of overwhelming violence or directed hatred at any one individual. It was a far more psychological process than that. I sat there, filled with genuine anger as I watched this boy try to ‘fix’ himself, to cure himself of the one thing I had in common with him. He did so at the encouragement of characters too kind and well-meaning for me to even attempt to hate. They manipulated him into hating himself, all without any intention to harm him – simply because they believed it was right.

With no one person for the viewer to hate or blame for all Jared’s troubles, the film feels all-too real. The result is relentlessly bleak and painful to the point that one of my friends almost walked out of the cinema. She stayed however, as she told me afterwards, because the film felt important for us to see and experience together in an environment where we could support each other – in a way that no one was able to support Jared. And so, we stayed, and we watched the rest of his story. We couldn’t help him; there was no easy solution to him problems and we may have found that difficult, but the least we could do was listen.

Jared’s story ended on a much-needed hopeful note, but the film never lets its audience forget that his experiences would stay with him forever. I found myself in tears as the ending credits rolled. I couldn’t let this thought go – that even though things would get better for Jared, he would continue to struggle all the same, as so many of us still do today. Boy Erased is a harsh reminder that every day as an LGBT+ person is a fight: a fight with the society we live in, a fight with the people around us, and lastly a fight with ourselves.

I would urge every LGBT+ person to go out and see this film in cinemas if they feel emotionally able. Boy Erased provides an in-depth look into an important part of not just our history, but our present too – with conversion therapy remaining legal to this day in many parts of the United States. Boy Erased is a film that everyone should watch at least once in their lifetime – if only once.

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