Brynne post 9

Brynne Piotrowski

1. The historical forces that helped bring about changing views and portrayals of homosexuality in film are diverse and numerous. One central aspect was the creation of overseeing organizations, both the official ones and those that were more “self-appointed.” The Production Code Administration created in 1934 and its religious counterpart—the Roman Catholic Legion of Decency—both issued ratings on films; the PCA did so with the mere act of issuing approval seals while the Legion utilized a letter-grade system of A,B and C (The Celluloid Closet). Furthermore, the former entity’s power of criticism and demanding cuts in films definitely affected changes in views, as it influenced what could be seen and what was intolerable. Public opinion was another driving force in evolving views. For example, in 1954 Joe Breen (the moral compass of the movies) “received a special Academy Award for ‘his conscientious, open-minded and dignified management of the Production Code Administration” (Barrios 242). However, as the 1950s continued on “America, like it or not, was being compelled to address its diversity, and popular culture would have to be part of that process” (Barrios 247).

Technological changes, the creation of the studio system and the desire of certain decision makers (i.e. directors and screenwriters) to challenge or push the limits of homosexuality’s inclusion in films also deserve credit for the changing views. When technology ushered out of the age of silent films, some of the flamboyant mannerisms were no longer quite as necessary to convey the presence of gays in cinema. In fact, some of the actors who had played gay in silent movies did not carry over well into the “talkies.” Barrios discusses how Roman Novarro’s career was essentially ended with the introduction of sound: “Sound had, in effect, outed him” (48). The studio system allowed for director’s to establish a personal repertoire and some, such as Cecil B. deMille and George Cukor, sought to push the limits of Breen’s perception of decency with strong hints of homosexuality in their films. deMille’s “Naked Moon” sequence in The Sign of the Cross and Cukor’s inclusion of the Ernest character in Our Betters both challenged the PCA and its protocol (Barrios 85-89, 99-101).

All the factors mentioned heretofore have had little to do with the actual inclusion of gay actors in films. From the account given in Barrios’s book, it appears that their presence and actions were slightly less responsible for the changing views than the other factors. Nonetheless, a discussion of the forces behind shifting depictions would not be complete without mentioning these actors. One particular actor, Franklin Pangborn, comes to mind when thinking of the determination of homosexuals to maintain a presence in cinema. Barrios notes how Pangborn in particular added a crucial element to movies by asking: “Would Franklin Pangborn’s body of work have had such resonance if, as seems staggeringly unlikely, all the gay vibes he gave were fabricated?” (7). Though Pangborn did not arrive on the scene of playing gay in Hollywood until 1926, he became a dominant force in continuing the portrayal (for better of worse) of homosexuality in film (Barrios 25). One year (1937) he had roles in 26 movies and he continued to be a prominent actor through the 1940s. including an important role in 1940’s Turnabout (Barrios 162-3). Pangborn serves as a prime example of the work ethic common to many homosexual actors that played a role in changing the depictions of gays in film.

Overall, the changing views of homosexuals in film were not the result of any singular historical force. Important contributors include administrative institutions, public opinion, technology, and the intentions of directors. The common thread amongst all the factors is the progression of time. Credit is due to the aforementioned social (such as public opinion) and political (regulating institutions for example) factors, along with the constant presence of homosexual actors and actresses and their devotion to their craft.

2. In “How to Look at Television,” Adorno analyzed popular culture and noted that, “The accents on inwardness, inner conflicts, and psychological ambivalence…have given way to complete externalization and consequently to an entirely unproblematic, cliché-like characterization” (217). This description aptly describes the message conveyed by the portrayal of homosexuality in early “talkie” films. The archetype is found in MGM’s 1929 Academy Award winner The Broadway Melody (Barrios 37). It comes in the character Del Turpe, played by Drew Demarest, who is “something of a summation of everything gay in American cinema up to 1929” (Barrios 38). The sub-text present in The Broadway Melody reflects an attitude of “it’s not a big deal.” Turpe provides comic relief as an effeminate, pansy character without causing any sort of moral or social dilemma—it is what it is, that is accepted, and the storyline moves along. Turpe is the epitome of Adorno’s “entirely unproblematic, cliché-like characterization” that dominated “pre-Code” films of the 1920s and 1930s.

After the creation of the Production Code Administration, homosexuality in films no longer could slide on the argument that it simply was not a big issue. Part of this was due to films that more overtly depicted and challenged characterizations of gays and lesbians. deMille’s The Sign of the Cross (1932) stands as a frontrunner in this category. Within a plot of Christian martyrdom in ancient Rome, the “Naked Moon” sequence conveys a sub-textual theme of illicit love, seduction, and homosexuality. Adorno discuss how, “The ideals of conformity and conventionalism were inherent in popular novels [representative of the mass media which film is by now a part of] from the very beginning. Now, however, these ideals have been translated into rather clear-cut prescriptions of what to do and what not to do” (“How to Look at Television” 220). deMille’s film directly challenges these “prescriptions” that the Code has by now created. The depiction of homosexuality has lost some of its comic relief role and now takes on a more direct and controversial mien. Such a sub-text is also found in 1940’s Turnabout (taking on gender identity issues) and Caged (a 1950 film with a frank look at lesbianism). This move from pansy, comic portrayals to more serious depictions was perhaps a portent of the increasingly hostile situations of homosexuals in film.

Adorno notes in his analysis that “stereotypes are an indispensable element of the organization and anticipation of experience…no art can entirely dispense with them” (“How to Look at Television” 229). Indeed, a new era ushered in a new stereotype that appears indispensable to film depictions of homosexuality. The sub-text of immorality, criminality, and general villainy coursed through the undercurrents of homosexual characters. Hitchcock’s Rope (1948) very clearly delineated the idea of homosexuality associated with evilness—the gays were literally criminals and the correlation was inescapable, even if not blatantly stated. However, the epitome of the film with homosexuality equated with villainy is 1959’s Suddenly, Last Summer. This film’s plot is the use of women to procure partners for a faceless, gay villain named Sebastian Venable. In the course of events Sebastian is eventually tracked down by the men and boys of the village, at which point he is murdered and eaten by cannibals. (Barrios 260). The subtext here is made very clear: homosexuality is evil and cannot go unpunished, with even death being an appropriate measure. Stereotypical depictions as criminal and immoral characterized the subtext of the portrayal of gay characters in many late 1940s and 1950s films.

Although there are many other sub-texts in film as it relates to homosexuality, let us examine a final one for the sake of conciseness. Amidst the predomination of the gay=villain equation there came two important movies that reflected yet another view of gays. Tea and Sympathy (1956) and Designing Woman (1957) catered to the idea that homosexuality could be present in film as long as it was eventually resolved, though not necessarily in the violent manner of Suddenly, Last Summer. Tea and Sympathy used a “doubly-sure” approach with a boy who knows he is not gay sleeping with a woman to prove he is not gay to his classmates (because being thought homosexual was just as bad as being one). In Designing Woman, Jack Cole gives all the “sure” signs of homosexuality (hanging out with the women, a ballet sequence, a job in costume design) only to redeem himself with a picture of his wife and children (Barrios 255-6). The sub-text of these two films is similar: seemingly gay appearances are acceptable as long as heterosexual redemption is the eventual outcome. This gives a certain level of “kosherness” to the character despite any apparently homosexual tendencies or facades and permits the film to meld with the atmosphere of the “feel-good” 1950s.

3.

These two images both portray gay people. However, the magazine cover with Ellen DeGeneres obviously cuts a more positive image than the “Rinse Away the Gay” image from a satirical “GayBGone” gag. Both are culture industry products rather than art images. After all, TIME is a mass distribution magazine, obviously a member of the “mass media” Adorno discusses. The “Rinse Away the Gay” image is a product geared toward a “popular culture” audience that makes a (satirical) cultural commentary in response to certain opinions of homosexuality.

The portrayal of DeGeneres is positive in that it is nonchalant and not stigmatized. TIME did not exploit her homosexuality; rather the article was a forum for a frank discussion of an issue DeGeneres had been courting for awhile. (Her TV sitcom Ellen had been airing for some time and had raised many questions of her orientation by the time she finally “came out”.) There is not really much to be said on the issue of the image as degenerate or artistic depictions of the body. Obviously, the image is quite normal—a typical magazine cover without any homosexual implications aside from the text. It is not particularly artistic and degeneracy is not present in any form. It avoids the stereotypes and “cliché-like characterization” Adorno discusses (“How to Look at Television” 217, 229-30). In context of class discussions of Nazi views of art, I think they would dislike it more on the grounds of little emphasis on classical beauty than for its depiction of a gay person since the image is not overtly homosexual.

“Rinse Away the Gay” is satirical and its humor can be appreciated, but outside of its context it is nevertheless a negative depiction of homosexuality. Most of its perceived demeaning quality is the suggestion that homosexuality is a rational choice to be accepted or rejected at will. This is frequently a sore point for homosexuals and gay rights activists. Again, artistic considerations are miniscule and degeneracy is of little concern. It is perhaps more of a “degenerate” portrayal than the TIME cover with DeGeneres, but that has more to do with what the image is implying than with formal visual elements. Although the “Rinse Away the Gay” image deals a bit more overtly with the body, it still does not raise major issues in terms of artistic depiction of the body. Nazi opinion of the work would be negative based primarily upon triviality—why bother with what is not genuinely “art”? Overall, the negativity that can be perceived in the imagery is a result of the somewhat snide look on the face of the man coupled with the idea that gayness is an acquired trait that can easily be dispensed with.

Image Sources:
DeGeneres TIME Cover: http://www.magazine.org/Editorial/Top_40_Covers/16996.cfm
“Rinse Away the Gay”: http://www.thoughttheater.com/2007/08/