“Pansexuality, asexuality — any people who present themselves in a way that does not conform to society — are still depictions that people are very close-minded to,” said Thomas Fitzgerald, a USC School of Cinematic Arts Film and Television Production student, who feels as though audiences of today want to support queer characters, without actually wanting to know much of their identity.
Fitzgerald, who identifies as a gay male, has noticed the distinct correlation being reflected in mass media, with larger studios preferring to sprinkle in queerness, rather than evaluating it to a complete extent.
“It’s kind of vague,” said Fitzgerald. “Tokenism, now more than ever, is using people's identity or queerness as sentimentality — trying to make you feel for them, instead of actually understanding their character.”
To this extent, Dr. Abbott’s research in the field notes a significant uptick in portrayals of gay male characters, most prominently in “cutesy, non-threatening” depictions. Utilizing these characters to somewhat fulfill the standard requirement of including a queer character, without actually wanting to give purpose to their existence.
According to the Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD), of the 350 films released theatrically by the ten major distributors in 2022, about 30% highlighted at least one character who identified as LGBTQ. However, with this same metric, 55% included gay men and 45% included lesbians, 21% highlighted bisexuality, and just 12% had transgender characters.
Films so centralized to gay male identities, like Lukas Dhont’s “Close” and Barry Jenkins’ “Moonlight,” have led to mainstream media’s hyper-fixation on portraying the undertones of gay identity from youth.
Sean Guzmán, a current film student studying at the University of Southern California School of Cinematic Arts, believes these portrayals dehumanize the actual sexuality aspect of what it means to be queer, discounting the proper encapsulation of queer life.
“Seeing somebody who identifies as queer on screen is one thing, but then to also have them engage in those sexual acts on screen is an additional form of empowerment that is overlooked,” said Guzmán. “There's not a lot of conversation about the implications of that — and inherently, engaging in non-heterosexual sexual acts is radical.”
Guzmán, who identifies as a gay man of color, notes that coming out means something different to everyone, but the perceptions of queer love through a heteronormative lens detracts stories from representing queer identity, depicting them as asexual beings.
Up-and-coming creatives are seeing this portrayed across all queer media, even finding that societal standards and misogynistic fantasies play a strong role in the representation of queer sexuality on screen.
“In many people's eyes, it’s still not socially acceptable for there to be a physical relationship between two men as opposed to how society uses two women’s physical relationship as a fantasy,” said independent filmmaker Elizabeth Griesser.
Griesser, who identifies as a bisexual woman, maintains the ideal that queer identity in entertainment has no reason to be uniform.
“Two of the most prominent examples in queer media would be ‘Call Me By Your Name,’ which does have gay sex in it, but focuses way more on their romantic relationship, whereas ‘The L Word,” is entirely focused on queer female sex,” said Griesser.
A sentiment she is attempting to oppose in her own work, Griesser cites the distinct difference between queer identities in the media boils down to how society idolizes sexuality in general. Griesser believes that lesbian relationships in the media are exclusively devoted to diving into their sex lives, whereas relationships between two men are given a developing romance.