The Kids Are All Right (spoiler alert)
I was in college and in the closet when The L Word first aired on television. My then girlfriend and I got the hookup from the dorm cable guy and each sunday night we would curl up in her twin bed to watch the episodes. Beyond the uber-feminine, white, west-coasty crunchy vibe, somewhere along the way we found ourselves in the characters. It was validating. Of course, along the way as I learned a bit more about being gay and black, my reaction to the sex scenes weaned and my critique to the feminine aesthetic grew. I knew as did everyone else, The L Word was packaged in a way that was safe for both homos and heteros, there was one strap scene albeit with a cheating straight women but the sex was real in all of its splendor and in all of its boredom.
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdDSqgZ87fM
Fast forward to 2010, with the release of The Kids Are All Right. Jack Halberstam called it “soul-crushing” and a “scathing critique of gay marriage” citing everything from the lack of desire between Julianne Moore (Jules) and Annette Bening (Nic) to the refusal of the film to make a “gender distinction” between the women who are “vague” representations of the butch-femme dynamic. (By the way, white lesbians are a lot more androgynous in their parings so this was not a surprise, besides, Jules was a gardener–not the most fashionable person.) Beyond this, she calls into question the inclusion of the male-character (Mark Ruffalo) as this charismatic-without-effort insert who juxtaposed to the overly sappy lesbian is “free, cool, and casually sexual.” In short, her critique relies on sexual and gender politics and abandons the racial politics of the film until the final line of the critique. It is one line, “A couple of moments of racism in the film (the depiction of the Latino gardener as a half-wit and the African American restaurant hostess as voracious) reminds us that this a deeply conservative film” that holds the most weight for me. The minority characters structure the film in a way that is mostly overlooked.
In fact, the black and Latino characters almost do all the work of getting “the gays” a place in straight reality. The black woman, who buys interesting afro-centric gear from Brooklyn provides the sperm donor/father the cred necessary to come off as a cool, free, funky kinda guy. While the motorcycle certainly gives him some swag, there is nothing like a good old black woman to add some true virility, nevermind the fact his little swimmers worked twice. Is this not right? As for the Latino man, who beyond his apparent discomfort and amazement that his supervisor would take a break from work for a quick lay, is a steady worker. In a film where a white woman with clear commitment issues can still manage to have a home, two kids, and a Volvo and land a dream landscaping job shows the power of whiteness. The Latino gardener is later dismissed without a thought and accused of having a drug problem because he sniffs a lot. Perhaps he’s a drug mule?
Overall, despite my critiques, I enjoyed the film. Hell, the shitty thing about stereotypes is that they often represent some truth. Not to say that Latino gardeners are drug mules and that black women are all fuck buddies, but in a sense they do operate this way in the real world. Of course today where we can find many different representations of blacks and Latinos our very basic ideas about them remain. Black women are sex objects and Latinos are hard low-wage workers. So there is a truth to the film that lends to its legitimacy even if it is a bit insulting. Like my days of the L Word, I can still see through the bullshit to some other points.
It is amazing to me how gay people want to be part of the straight constructed world so much but also want to be shown without stereotype or caution. Perhaps within the many critiques there can also be room to review narrative structure and that even above and beyond all the racial and sexual implications of the film, there is a realness to it. The presence of the dad, while imposing to lesbian homes is also a realistic desire for their male child, the teenage angst, the lovey dovey moms who don’t touch that often are true of many relationships way before year fifteen. What’s so egregious about their struggle?
Thanks for your post – I def hear you. I must say that for better or for worse I don’t usually go into white lesbian “space” expecting a strong engagement with race – esp not white lesbian space that makes it to the big mainstream screen. That said, I did think the movie did some things well. If you remember the scene with the Black girl (sorry I’m terrible with names) when she is at the restaurant with Joni and her friend, yes she is wearing an “African” trinket that Joni’s friend goes through great lengths to exoticize. Except we learn through the Black girl that the “African” trinket is in fact a flea market find (which takes the viewer on a quick mental trip about the marketplace of “authenticity”). Again attempting to “place” the Black woman the friend asks if she’s from “there” (I forget exactly where the “there” is) and the Black woman says something like “Actually I’m from Brooklyn” or some other decidedly domestic US space.
I suppose an argument could be made for the sexual object-ness of the woman. For example, yes she and Paul are sex buddies, but at the same time one doesn’t usually sit around talking with his sex buddy about life-altering events such as the discovery of biological children. So maybe their particular relationship is something more. And yes, she did seem annoyed when he broke it off so to speak once he started having sex with the other woman. Though I wonder if that can be read as less about her Blackness and more about his general all purpose flightiness? The Black woman seemed more peeved at the BS line he gave her about “wanting to do that with someone who’s ready to have a family and take that step with me.” The beauty of the sex buddy relationship is that you can be straight with one another, and clearly he was not.
As for the Latino gardener that definitely gets a big WTF. Yet, I will say this. His portrayal as bumbling, ill-timed, even lecherous at times, gives reason for pause. At the same time, I think we also see what another reviewer called the “casual racism” of the white bourgeoisie. Prime example, Paul (whom himself is unidentifiably “swarthy” in complexion) makes a joke about the gardener’s accent that essentially facilitates the growing bond between himself and Jules. That Jules’ “reason” for firing him be a “drug problem” I think further illustrates that casual racism. It’s almost a natural relation between the white characters and the Latino gardener. My point is I think the writer does that intentionally – I mean we see Jules later in bed with Paul and saying that she’s “fucked up” for what she did (and Paul of course saying no no no you’re not. Eschewing cross cultural and cross class solidarity for good ol’ patriarchy in the form of a (hetero)sexual coupling with Paul? Classic. Perhaps the question is why does the gardener have to serve as her way to work out her issues (around class and race) and even if he must serve as the foil, why must he be portrayed as an idiot?
But even with all that said, I as a Black woman who loves both men and women enjoyed the film overall. I loved the way the film dealt with sex and sexuality beyond the labels and I love that I could see parts of myself in the characters (sadly Nic but I’m working on that lol). And I LOVED the South Asian friend of Joni’s. Many parts of this film played as very real to me, even the unsettling parts.
Thanks for your post – I def hear you. I must say that for better or for worse I don’t usually go into white lesbian “space” expecting a strong engagement with race – esp not white lesbian space that makes it to the big mainstream screen. That said, I did think the movie did some things well. If you remember the scene with the Black girl (sorry I’m terrible with names) when she is at the restaurant with Joni and her friend, yes she is wearing an “African” trinket that Joni’s friend goes through great lengths to exoticize. Except we learn through the Black girl that the “African” trinket is in fact a flea market find (which takes the viewer on a quick mental trip about the marketplace of “authenticity”). Again attempting to “place” the Black woman the friend asks if she’s from “there” (I forget exactly where the “there” is) and the Black woman says something like “Actually I’m from Brooklyn” or some other decidedly domestic US space.
I suppose an argument could be made for the sexual object-ness of the woman. For example, yes she and Paul are sex buddies, but at the same time one doesn’t usually sit around talking with his sex buddy about life-altering events such as the discovery of biological children. So maybe their particular relationship is something more. And yes, she did seem annoyed when he broke it off so to speak once he started having sex with the other woman. Though I wonder if that can be read as less about her Blackness and more about his general all purpose flightiness? The Black woman seemed more peeved at the BS line he gave her about “wanting to do that with someone who’s ready to have a family and take that step with me.” The beauty of the sex buddy relationship is that you can be straight with one another, and clearly he was not.
As for the Latino gardener that definitely gets a big WTF. Yet, I will say this. His portrayal as bumbling, ill-timed, even lecherous at times, gives reason for pause. At the same time, I think we also see what another reviewer called the “casual racism” of the white bourgeoisie. Prime example, Paul (whom himself is unidentifiably “swarthy” in complexion) makes a joke about the gardener’s accent that essentially facilitates the growing bond between himself and Jules. That Jules’ “reason” for firing him be a “drug problem” I think further illustrates that casual racism. It’s almost a natural relation between the white characters and the Latino gardener. My point is I think the writer does that intentionally – I mean we see Jules later in bed with Paul and saying that she’s “fucked up” for what she did (and Paul of course saying no no no you’re not. Eschewing cross cultural and cross class solidarity for good ol’ patriarchy in the form of a (hetero)sexual coupling with Paul? Classic. Perhaps the question is why does the gardener have to serve as her way to work out her issues (around class and race) and even if he must serve as the foil, why must he be portrayed as an idiot?
But even with all that said, I as a Black woman who loves both men and women enjoyed the film overall. I loved the way the film dealt with sex and sexuality beyond the labels and I love that I could see parts of myself in the characters (sadly Nic but I’m working on that lol). And I LOVED the South Asian friend of Joni’s. Many parts of this film played as very real to me, even the unsettling parts.
I liked the authenticity of the film. Great acting, real emotions, believable in some ways…or maybe most. My problem with the film initially had been with the lesbian characters coming off more as caricatures than that mirroring true relationships. But who am I to make such judgment given that I’m in a committed relationship with a woman for 2.5 years and not 18 years like the characters?
Perhaps by year 10, we may start liking gay porn, suffer unsuccessful orgasms with vibrators, fuel our children’s teenage angst, binge on wine, and lust after the compliments and good sex with strangers (to keep things “interesting”). But in the mean time as a committed young lesbian (who is also black), I still see room for improvement when it comes to showing us a positive images of ourselves. When I say “us”, I mean as black women and as lesbians alike.
You mentioned the L word, and I immediately remembered feeling the same way you did….where were the black women, and how come I didn’t see lesbians looking like me…like us? This was the same feeling I had toward the movie. It wasn’t something I walked out feeling proud of, or was able to identify with considering that I’m neither white or upper-middle class, and still have an optimistic view of how I’d like to see our relationships as women who love women on screen.
Although my fixation on the relationship aspect of the movie maybe shallow in comparison to that of the black and Latino characters being stereotyped, I believe all those points need to be taken into consideration as well.
I liked the authenticity of the film. Great acting, real emotions, believable in some ways…or maybe most. My problem with the film initially had been with the lesbian characters coming off more as caricatures than that mirroring true relationships. But who am I to make such judgment given that I’m in a committed relationship with a woman for 2.5 years and not 18 years like the characters?
Perhaps by year 10, we may start liking gay porn, suffer unsuccessful orgasms with vibrators, fuel our children’s teenage angst, binge on wine, and lust after the compliments and good sex with strangers (to keep things “interesting”). But in the mean time as a committed young lesbian (who is also black), I still see room for improvement when it comes to showing us a positive images of ourselves. When I say “us”, I mean as black women and as lesbians alike.
You mentioned the L word, and I immediately remembered feeling the same way you did….where were the black women, and how come I didn’t see lesbians looking like me…like us? This was the same feeling I had toward the movie. It wasn’t something I walked out feeling proud of, or was able to identify with considering that I’m neither white or upper-middle class, and still have an optimistic view of how I’d like to see our relationships as women who love women on screen.
Although my fixation on the relationship aspect of the movie maybe shallow in comparison to that of the black and Latino characters being stereotyped, I believe all those points need to be taken into consideration as well.
Extremely valuable. Thank you.
Extremely valuable. Thank you.