I think the problem is - and I don't want to besmirch anybody who does get upset about certain portrayals of queer and trans people and things, because I certainly have been there - but I think a lot of times, we're conditioned to do that because it's not and trans people telling those stories." We're allowed to be queer people to tell stories about ourselves. I think we are allowed to be trans people to tell stories about ourselves. "And to them, I would say that's fair, if that's what they think. "There might be trans women who look at this and go, 'You're making us look bad,'" Moore says. And it was really important for me to shed light on stories that don't ever get to see the light of day." "I definitely anticipate people being divided, as they should be," Dunn says, "but I made this show as a reflection of the community that I'm from. But with all this messiness, some queer viewers are bound to take umbrage with some not-so-flattering depictions of LGBTQ+ life. Trustworthy and untrustworthy, all combined into one human." And that one human might just set fire to a car to avenge a friend. "They're great people, whores, villains, the most lovely human you've ever met.
And we deserve characters that are villains, that are whores, that are all of the …." "But ultimately, queer people are just like everyone else, but also very different in our messiness, in our complication. "A lot of times when things are written by cis heterosexual people, they're very nice and write us in these ways that we're the ones with the knowledge or we're the sassy friend that has it together," Sibily says. That is, to be fully human without the burden of respectability. Both she and Dunn cite Mad Men's Don Draper and Breaking Bad's Walter White in how messy and unlikable and sometimes downright evil white, cis male characters have been allowed to be for years - and now it's everyone's turn to be an asshole. "Messiness was our watchword in the room," Moore says.
"Messy as folk," to quote Jesse James Keitel, one half of the messiest queer couple TV has seen in a long time: reformed-ish party girl Ruthie (Keitel) and her seemingly stable partner Shar (CG), whose eye starts to wander when Ruthie goes off the proverbial rails. They feel like people I know, people I would actually want to hang out with, and not queer archetypes ripe for resentment and eye-rolling. It's that authenticity - a buzzword I usually tend to run from, arms flailing, at all costs - that is endearing about these characters. And also, it's just so badass to tell stories where we get to do all of the things that we do in real life." "So that is a very dark place to be, but it's also such a privilege and a responsibility to tell queer stories that are honest and that are truthful to the experience that many have gone through and that many continue to go through. "When you want to tell a story authentically, you have to really immerse yourself in that thought process and what these people went through," says Johnny Sibily, who plays Noah, a lawyer with a passion for meth and questionable decisions. Brodie, like the show itself, doesn't necessarily dwell on good or bad, but exists, like life itself, somewhere in between. Maybe paying a sex worker to lull your disabled brother into a false sense of romantic and sexual security - without telling him - wasn't the most emotionally intelligent move, but his intentions were. QUEER AS FOLK - Episode 103 - Pictured: Devin Way as Brodie - (Photo by: Peacock)īut even though Brodie throws himself in the way of a bullet, saving young Mingus (Fin Argus), he rejects the label of "hero" or even "decent person" with some of his actions, despite his dubious best intentions. Not a meditation on tragedy, but a defiant love letter to queer joy, queer resilience, and queer community. The shooting rips the viewer out of this fantasia into the real world, or at least an approximation of it, and sets the tone for what this show will be. It all felt a bit disingenuous, all this unmitigated queer joy because, yes, it's 2022 - look at all our rights! But it's also 2022. Leading up to the tragedy, the episode treats us to a sort of queer fantasia as we're introduced to several loud and proud characters living their best gay, trans, and nonbinary lives.
The violence isn't shown in the episode, but it's reminiscent not only of the 2016 Pulse shooting in Orlando that claimed 49 lives, but also recent mass shootings in Buffalo and Uvalde, Texas. The premiere episode of Queer as Folk opens with an all-too-familiar scenario: a gunman opens fire at a crowded gay club, Babylon, killing several patrons.
Warning: Spoilers ahead for the premiere episode of Peacock's Queer as Folk.