Correcting an error
on straight shooters and gay, GAY men
Something has been done brilliantly, and as a lover of brilliance, I must relay this to you.
To be clear, this something is not “new,” per se.
It happened nearly three years ago because, while I enjoy Joining-the-Conversation™, every now and then a wonderful piece of media comes into my view long after said conversation has ended.
In fact, my closest friend recommended RuPaul’s Drag Race to me for years before I even so much as considered giving it a chance. Too many seasons, I said. And, “I don’t do reality shows.” Tuh!
Now it is I who texts them on Friday evenings, talking about, “I don’t know about these IG queens!” Like some Drag Race loyal.
Today’s brilliance can be found in the 8th episode of the 2nd season of The Other Two, an HBO comedy series about the two older siblings (Cary, a gay aspiring actor and Brooke, a former professional dancer trying to find her place) of a famous 13-year old pop star.
In it, Cary crushes on A-list (possibly…gay?) actor Dean Brennan, whose set to star as George Michael in an upcoming biopic. But that’s the thing, Dean’s whole allure is that he may, or may not, be very, very gay.
Y’all know the trope.
The definitely straight celebrity alluding to queerness as a sort of cultural capital. It’s even got a name: queer-baiting, aka gay-baiting.
And this whole episode is dedicated to dissecting it, exploring society’s obsession with men who do this, and with these men themselves, who desire to tow a line only beneficial to actually non-gay/queer folks.
(click the image for a clip from the episode…)
Cary, the actual gay, spends a ridiculous amount of time wondering where on the spectrum Dean lands. He grows obsessed with Dean, infatuated by the mystery, before eventually clocking him for straight with a little investigative help from his sis Brooke in an iconic scene in which, believe it or not, Dean, gets the last word.
Dean’s moment is a sobering one, after Cary claims he only sought out Dean because he was “the hottest.”
Dean responds, "Or was it because I was the straightest? Deep down, you knew I was straight and that's why you chose me. So you can act all high and mighty but I think you knew exactly what you were doing."
Truly iconic. To point out the draw within even the queer community to admire queer presentations that follow very heteronormative rules.
It’s giving masc for masc. And for what? To prove how “normal” you are, even though you are so very gay?
Rarely do we get to see this phenomenon played out on screen, and in such a succinct and thoughtful way. I lived. So much so, this episode led me to an amusing fan fiction series idea (remember when I said I’d be writing fan fiction??)
What if TVs MaNLieSt straight characters were actually gay? Like masc for masc, for fake-real? Don Draper from Mad Men, Ron from Parks and Recreation, Uncle Phil from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air…
Nothing different about their personalities, just gay? Yeahhhh, man. This will be fun. Expect my first installment very soon…
I have an error to correct. Not a typo of sorts, but a deeper thing, a hapless mistake possibly quite reflective with how I, as a person, handle grief. (Don’t worry, we won’t be talking about grief, here.)
Months ago, 4 to be exact, I shared with you 4 memoirs I’ve read over the years that have, in some way or another, shook me to my core. I included works by Lucille Clifton and Kiese Laymon, Joy Harjo, and Audre Lorde. But I forgot someone.
Someone whose memoir jolted me awake in a time I’d been somewhat floating through life, aimless and uninspired.
The author is Anthony Bourdain. The book, Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly (2000). It’s an intensely funny, quick-witted collection of wild-though-true tales of the professional chef turned writer.
Like many of you, I was a loyal Parts Unknown (2013-2018) fan, and before that No Reservations (2005-2012). One of my favorite episodes is the one in Charleston, where Bourdain spoke with chef BJ Dennis to learn about Gullah food, a southern Black American cuisine by way of West Africa.
But there are so many special moments in any one of his series.
I’ve chuckled at some of the recent attempts to recreate Bourdain’s formula. Producers include so many of the obvious ingredients. An area fiercely affected by colonialism, some “exotic” cuisine (by western standards), a white guy with a culinary background, or at the very least, who describes himself as a foodie.
But they forget the most necessary parts.
The mutual respect, from cook to cook and human to human.
Empathy and compassion for the people who make and create those cuisine.
Bourdain had both. And not only did he have both, but he clearly never thought himself above or better, or more skilled than the people he interviewed. The mutual respect allowed for a different shape of conversation. More complex, less anthropological, more human.
There was no learning from the locals so that at the end of the week you could see if you can beat them at their own game in a cooking showdown, because sure they’ve done this for years but you’re a 17-time Michelin star cooks so what do they know, really?!
Shout out to whomever caught that shade.
This is why so many of us love and loved Bourdain. Not because he was a skilled chef or witty writer, or a brilliant conversationalist. But because he treated each guest and each place as equal in the most human way.
As a society we’ve chopped it up none stop about appreciation vs. appropriation. But it’s funny, appreciation is a thing we don’t often see on screen. Maybe that’s why we’re stuck in what feels like the early stages of understanding that very stark difference.
Imagine, if instead of entitlement bogarting itself into and over Black and indigenous spaces, we were met with respect and compassion, with no assumptions of ownership beyond that. Offering support and care and a listening ear as we lead in discussion of our history and culture. Leaving with nothing but a full belly and more knowledge.
I hadn’t thought about Bourdain’s book in many years. Lately, a copy of it winks at me from my living room bookshelf, urging me to revisit, to re-experience its magic. I think I may very soon.
In the meantime in between time, I have updated the title of my previous post: 5 memoirs that give me goosebumps. Kitchen Confidential is a more than worthy addition.
As always, thank you all for reading. See you in 2 weeks,
Jasper