Making Queerness More Casual: LGBTQ+ Media that Doesn’t Solely Revolve Around Homophobia

Here we find ourselves in the year 2023, encompassed by a plethora of mainstream films and television that offer us representation of many kinds, with queer representation appearing more and more prevalent. While it seems that queer love stories are in demand more than ever, they’re not all rainbows and sunshine. As we near the month of June or synonymously, Pride Month, I’m sure like me, you’re cautiously awaiting the flood of Instagram infographics to emerge in your feed. You know, the ones with recommendations of queer media that to me, always seem just to be recycled narratives of homophobia and trauma. So let me do you a favor and refresh you with some LGBTQ+ love stories that don’t just concentrate on negative experiences of being queer— because sometimes it's nice to have fun!

But first, let's talk about Hollywood's lack of providing a broad scope of queer representation and what they can do better.

As queer media becomes more normalized in the entertainment industry, the genre also takes time to develop comprehensively. So as we emerge deeper into this genre, what do we keep getting wrong? Obviously, representation looks different depending on the individual— what do they want to see? What struggles or triumphs are they enduring that can best be represented on screen? Apparently, Hollywood assumes that the only thing a queer individual is capable of experiencing is homophobia. What would they be without it? Let's conjure up just a few examples of popular forms of media that solely center around homophobia or coming out stories.

In 2018, you might remember the buzz that circulated over Love, Simon, a Nick Robinson film that follows a boy coming to terms with being gay and being simultaneously petrified of anyone finding out. The film evokes a consistent feeling of anxiety in the viewer, as they watch him mentally torture himself over what-ifs and fears of unacceptance from friends and family. He ultimately ends up getting outed by another individual, and we are shown a traumatic scene of him believing that his life is over— and that nobody will ever see him the same. Simultaneously, all of his friends turn on him right as he comes out. Not very comforting for somebody who is thinking of coming out in the near future. The movie concludes in a cheerful tone, but it is difficult to ignore the distress we witnessed him endure in other parts of the film. This is not to say that we don't need films like this— as these are experiences that exist and will, unfortunately, continue to. But it gets tiresome when there are seldom films that don't add a touch of homophobia for shock factor. 

This thought came to me when I went to see Knock at the Cabin, a new M. Night Shyamalan thriller. In the film, a gay couple (played by Johnathan Groff and Ben Aldrige) vacation in a cabin with their daughter and encounter a frightening sequence of events. Although I realized this movie wasn't for me after the first five minutes, I was simply pleased to see such casual portrayals of gayness. We can have gay characters that share a deep love and simultaneously focus on other topics like a creepy dude trying to break into their cabin (I honestly fell asleep during this so I can't give great reviews). But per usual, this wasn't the case as I watched on. Homophobia just had to make an appearance in the middle, when the character of Andrew reminisces on being assaulted by a man for being queer. Again, it is of utmost importance to address these issues. But when we continue to associate queerness only with homophobia, we learn to connote the two together and therefore are unable to imagine one without the other. This concomitantly standardizes that queerness should/will be scary and anxiety-inducing, especially for queer kids. You wonder how many more individuals would be more comfortable with their queerness, if they weren't constantly reminded of the scrutiny they might face. 

We see this in other forms, like in Tony Kushners play Angels in America which tackles homophobia, family disapproval, and the AIDs epidemic that plagued the 1980s. Rent, a Broadway musical that also revolves around the AIDs epidemic. Viva, a film that tells the story of a boy who struggles with his father's disapproval of him performing drag. And Moonlight, which grapples with the struggles of growing up queer. These are all pieces of art deserving of our attention, as they bring important discussions to the table that are critical to acknowledge. But to me at least, I feel burnt out by the way Hollywood tends to go about including queerness in film and television. They all typically contain the “realizes they’re gay and spends the whole film struggling with their sexuality” character, or coming out stories and period pieces that always seem to hypersexualize queerness, or the “introducing a gay character and killing them off after ten minutes” trope. So to that I say, can we let queer people have more fun, please?

Sometimes it's nice not to be reminded of the hatred that surrounds us and instead, be validated that life can be fulfilling as a queer individual. So if the homophobic tropes have been getting you down lately, here are some recommendations, with casual queer relationships that offer us a new lens as to what it means to be part of the community.

Sex Education (2019)

With its large and talented cast, Sex Education gives us more than one token queer character. The show offers characters both new to and certain of their sexuality. Not only is this a comical (and sometimes strange) show— with a great plot and characters who go through significant development— but it reminds us that we don't always need to make queerness such a big deal. Also, get on it before season 4 airs!

Desert Hearts (1985)

While Desert Hearts still touches lightly on the hardships of lesbian relationships, for a 1980s film, it is refreshing to see a queer relationship flourish and not end in tragedy. For its optimistic depiction of a lesbian relationship, Desert Hearts is consistently acknowledged as a turning point in LGBTQ+ cinema, in a time when such representation was lacking. If you're into the oldies, this one is for you. 

Carol (2015)

Set in the 1950s, here’s a period piece that does not make its center homophobia. Carol concentrates on the emotions, struggles, and risks that Therese and Carol face in their forbidden love affair. The film portrays their love without sensationalizing or oppressing it, highlighting the challenges and joys of their relationship, and celebrating their passionate bond. 

The Fear Street Trilogy (2021)

Here's an option for those of you fond of the thriller genre: but this time, the queer characters aren't killed off first! The Fear Street Trilogy puts a lesbian relationship at the forefront without making the whole series about self-discovery or homophobia. Instead, it focuses on themes such as murder and evil spirits, and there just happens to be a queer couple.

Hopefully, as we look ahead to Pride Month you can indulge in these pieces of media that show us that queer stories don't always have to end in tragedy.