Out and About ‖ The Boys in the Band (1970 & 2020)

“You are a sad and pathetic man, Michael. You are a homosexual, and you don't want to be, but there's nothing you can do to change it.”

Queer narrative is no stranger to shades of darkness. Whether it be textual or beneath a manicured surface, the complicated history of queerness cannot be swept away, only watered down or recontextualized to make palatable. As one of the earliest and most recent gay story on screen, both renditions of “The Boys in the Band” (1970 and 2020) cling on to the darkest parts of the gay experience in a birthday bash where the party favors are broken mirrors and trips to the therapist. It’s a plot that starts with nine gay men throwing a party, but then gradually devolves into a sinister calling out of some of the deepest and most repressed parts to of the gay psyches. In between the vicuña sweaters, cracked crab, and infinite lampshades strung between the fifty years of separation between both renditions are the dominoes leading a dangerously important irony: Even when out of the closest, the closet still exists waiting for those who’ve stepped out to return and experience the traumas they have left behind.

At the end of the film, when our party host and self-saboteur, Michael (played by Kenneth Nelson and Jim Parsons in their respective versions), walks out the door, many will find themselves questioning how we ended up at this point. Some will be asking why we had to end up this point. Within the course a couple hours night, a character that we thought to be harmless, dancing to Martha & the Vandellas reliving his fire island day, is revealed to be one of the most self-destructive queer characters to be put forth in front of any audience. Only made more distressing by Mart Crowley’s script, the constriction of a strictly homosexual drama inside what is essentially four walls away from the rest of society, holds a distressing truth and complication in regards to queerness and the pain attached to how some experience it. And though there are characters like the effervescent Emory or the cool-and-collected Donald, who are less critical of their identities, Michael’s self-hatred overshadows any semblance of light entering his apartment.

Because of this revisiting of self-inflicted queer trauma “The Boys in the Band”, the film’s reputation is constantly teetering between milestone and misgiving. Only now, after half a century’s worth of trips in and out of the spotlight (and a very niche spotlight at that), has skepticism faded into the background of the piece. Even Crowley, who wrote the original play in 1968, realized the story’s divisiveness and pointed nature saying, “The self-deprecating humor was born out of low self-esteem. Back then homosexuality was still classified as a mental illness.” As one the the first stories conceived and shown from a queer experience, the brutish stance that it takes on the lives of these characters was, and to some may still even be, blisteringly true. Some called the viewpoint of the film “dangerous” and “narcissistic”. One even stated, “I was horrified by the depiction of the life that might befall me. I have very strong feelings about that play. It's done a lot of harm to gay people.” While this viewpoint on the film’s contents is understandable, Michael’s internalized homophobia is not a trait that comes out of thin air, based on some kind of speculative theory. For some, it’s a reality; an unfortunate uncomfortable reality, but a reality nonetheless.

Needless to say, many people, especially now in the queer-empowering era of “Love, Simon” and “Alex Strangelove” don’t want to witness this kind of inner darkness. Who can blame them? Is a self-mutilated gay man really a character that needs representation in contemporary times? Though the queer community has had a lot of time since William Friedkin’s first film to acknowledge those inner demons, the story has a way of returning in and reeking its havoc and influence upon each generation. Some have even attributed the events at Stonewall to the impact of “The Boys in the Band”. Writes Peter Filichia from Theater Mania, “After gays saw The Boys in the Band, they no longer would settle for thinking of themselves as pathetic and wouldn't be perceived as such any longer… this new generation would dare to be different.” It’s this “but we’ve changed” thinking that resurfaces with every new popping up of the story whether it be on stage or film.

To me, the question of whether or not the queer community can learn or empathize further from “The Boys in the Band” is slightly ridiculous in that the answer is an obvious “duh.” With an ample but limited amount of stories in the queer cabinet, to throw away any one character’s sincere perspective is counter-productive. To not be sympathetic to the film is understandable, but to discount the reality in which it is grounded doesn’t do any favors for anyone. “The Boys in the Band” is not a question of truthfulness or accuracy, for even though there are some under the impression that pride and fragility cannot co-exist, more times than we’d like to admit, they come hand in hand. Instead, the question we should be asking in regards to the film and its versions prior to this newest iteration is one of responsibility.

The Netflix release of Joe Mantello’s retelling of “The Boys in the Band” is something not to be taken for granted, with the movie now able to stretch in domestic and global directions. So, rather than a select few audiences on Broadway or in American arthouse theaters, the story’s accessibility has been drastically opened up to queer and straight audiences in various parts of the world. Producer Ryan Murphy’s development deal with the streaming platform would have seen the film on everyone's “What’s New” page eventually, but why should “The Boys in the Band'' be the vessel by which these darker realities are spread? Says Mantello:

“I think the play has been encumbered over the years with being the first of many that were to come about gay men, and so there was this kind of responsibility that it spoke to all issues and that it represented all gay men everywhere. In the intervening 50 years, it doesn’t have that kind of responsibility anymore, so you can reassess the play. And you can see: Oh, it’s really beautifully crafted. It’s really entertaining. It’s really smart. It’s really witty. It’s really dangerous.”

A pivotal shift happens when an older film gets remade without any significant changes to the story: What was once considered contemporary work suddenly becomes a period piece. Not only is the film put to the test, but so are the films’ ideas and themes .I don’t necessarily believe that the films’ view of gay men is particularly incorrect or slanted, but I agree with Mantello’s “reassessment” of the original film. These days, it doesn’t have to be up to one film to lay these traumas out. “The Boys in the Band” does not have to still be the shining knight on top of a hill, but I don’t think there is anything wrong with remembering it as the shining knight that it was in that moment in time when queer content and representation was basically unimaginable.

The responsibility and survivability of “The Boys in the Band” lies not in whether its questions and characters are relevant in current landscapes, but rather in its existence and preservation as a cultural artifact. Though queerness has an infinite number of hidden histories, stories of explicit queerness are not drawn from a deep well. Though the second coming of “The Boys in the Band” calls to question some factors that may have been glazed over for contemporary times (its use of language, handling of race in casting and on screen, etc.), if the film’s intention is to showcase and preserve, it does the original storytellers justice. At times it even feels fable-equse, an old tale being passed down only to be remade again and again for future generations. It’s telling that the films’ title stems from James Mason’s line to Judy Garland in their cover of “A Star is Born” (another cinematic hand-me-down): “You're singing for yourself and the boys in the band.”

Mantello’s reconstruction is an antique worth reappraisal, and this time, instead of selling it to the highest bidder, those who are interested in its wares can own a piece of gay history for the price of a Netflix subscription. While true that its viewpoints can be considered outdated, a work of such historical value (good or bad), especially in a culture where queerness often disappears and is left forgotten, should be allowed to echo every once in a while. Although “The Boys in the Band” may be a tad late to the party, there’s still something remarkable in the fact that it showed up at all.