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Wednesday, 20 February 2008 |
 As I browsed the shelves in my local DVD store, I wondered: Why is there a section for queer films, and queer films alone? Why aren’t they in the same sections as other films, like comedy, or drama?
I find it bizarre that in an age where political correctness is at its zenith, gay and lesbian movies are kept segregated away in their own little section. I mean, could you imagine the outcry if there was suddenly a black film section? Isn’t a love story a love story, regardless of whether it’s between a man and woman, two men or two women? Isn’t a drama a drama, regardless of whether the lead character is gay, straight or bi? Isn’t a comedy still funny, whether the jokes are coming from a straight person or a gay person?
The interesting aspect to all of this is that films such as My Summer of Love, Brokeback Mountain or Kissing Jessica Stein aren’t shuffled away into the queer section. You can find these films in any video store. Why are these films considered socially acceptable, while other gay films are often only available via internet order, or through specialty stores?
Clearly homosexual films are only acceptable if they’re portraying lipstick lesbians, or if the film contains a gay character being portrayed by an actor who is well-known to be straight – something that won’t threaten anyone’s heterosexuality or threaten to corrupt and convert their children.
While I stood there, perusing aforementioned queer film section, I had the dubious fortune of being accosted by a greasy, trackpants-suit-wearing, rat-tailed redneck, who had been looking at the pornographic films beside me. (I’m not even going to address the issue of the queer films section being next to the pornographic movies section). “Gay movies…” he brayed nasally. “Is that, like, porno?”
“No,” I said curtly, a pained expression crossing my face. “They’re just like normal movies, but with gay characters.” The missing link next to me grunted, mulling this over, before bestowing his next intellectual gem upon me.
“Oh. Well … I don’t mind lesbians, but not that other stuff!”
Fortunately, at this point my mobile phone rang, and I was able to turn away and leave Cletus to his own devices. Whatever happened to him, I do not know. I’m sure he’s out there somewhere with the rest of his ill-bred ilk; most likely swilling beer while he plans to marry his cousin.
- Rachael McMeeking
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