The Controversy of Straight Actors Playing Gay Characters
Al Stone-Gebhardt | February 15, 2024
In the grand theater that is Hollywood, where drama is not always confined to the silver screen, there is a hot controversy brewing — one which is as ripe for debate as determining whether socks with sandals is a fashion faux pas (it is). That is, what should we make of straight men playing gay characters, and should non-queer actors be allowed to play queer characters in the first place?
First, we must acknowledge the flaming elephant in the room: acting is the art of pretending to be someone you are not, much akin to make-believe. The lines between the fantastical and the realistic often blur faster than a tipsy aunt at a family dinner. So, what does it mean if your favorite leading himbo prefers a hero over a heroine in his latest role?
Some cinephiles and thespians alike argue that this matters, especially when it comes to the intersection of representation and authenticity of a given film. Additionally, they argue that this cannot be ignored, as many queer individuals have had their roles taken up by their cishet (cisgender, heterosexual) colleagues.
So, let us unpack this, shall we?
As some wise guy once said, “Asking a bad question will result in a bad answer.” And boy, we have had some bad takes lately.
The question of whether straight men should represent queer lives on a silver screen is nothing more than a false dilemma, trapping us in a conversation constructed of binaries. It requires a resounding “yes” or “no,” with no nuance to be had. We are forcing ourselves into a corner by approaching the controversy this way.
Rather than embodying the role of judge, jury and executioner with our metaphorical gavels, let us step back and scrutinize from another perspective: not whether heterosexuals should play gay roles, but how they can do it successfully.
Of course, this scenario in and of itself requires an idealistic view of cinema: that directors are not stripping away roles from queer actors in the first place. When directors choose straight actors over queer actors, they are perpetuating the erasure of queer lives across media. But let us follow this line of thought for a second.
An actor becoming enmeshed in their role does not ask that they frequent their local gay bar for three months before filming — unless they are into that, but I digress — instead, it asks how they understand and approach queer culture.
But by what merits do we judge an actor's performance? And should directors be blind to the actor’s preference for girls over guys?
A straight actor comes in, yearning to make money kissing men on the big screen, and the director raises an eyebrow. The tension in the room is palpable and the casting agents are holding their breaths. Then, our heterosexual friend delivers a performance so incredibly genuine you would have thought his frat house was a gay bar.
Is this a realistic scenario?
It could be! In the British film “God’s Own Country,” actors Josh O’Conner and Alec Secăreanu delivered a breathtaking, authentic performance of two farm workers falling head over heels (unfortunately neither wear heels) for one another in rural West Yorkshire, pitiful longing included.
It was not their lived experience per se, yet the two actors worked arduously for three months on a farm with director Francis Lee — who based the film on his experiences — letting his experience bleed into the tasteful romance on-screen. Every second of the film was imbued with the queer experience, from the dialogue to the painstaking stretches of quiet between their respective characters. The actors embodied exactly how Lee grew up — queer and working on a farm for the majority of his life.
Moreover, Barry Jenkins was able to successfully embody the same nuanced intersection of Black masculinity and queerness in 2016 with Tarell Alvin McCraney’s “Moonlight” without being queer himself. So, we know that doing your homework works, right? Is that it? End of the discussion?
Well, hold onto your rainbow flags, because it is not that simple. There has been a glaring point of inequality within the entertainment industry for years, one which is slowly letting up, but not fast enough.
The LGBTQIA+ community has had a bit of a rough ride through the years — for decades, they were relegated to playing the sassy best friend or a tragic victim, outshone by their straight counterparts.
When a gay role comes along, it is understandable that some will feel upset when yet another heterosexual swoops in and steals the spotlight from a queer actor, notorious or niche. Acting cannot solely be about the act of playing a character — it is about representation. This includes giving marginalized communities a chance to tell their stories and see themselves reflected in the media in a meaningful way.
But, it gets tricky here: acting is a business, and it is a little-known fact that names sell in showbiz. When Warner Bros. is allotting millions to make a movie, they want a big name attached to ensure some return on investment — no matter how poor the premise of the movie is. Unfortunately for those aspiring to make names for themselves as queer actors, the A-list pool of openly LGBTQIA+ celebrities is about as shallow as a kiddie pool.
What does a casting director have to do with all of this? Do they determine the role based on how the actor performs, as is standard for this industry, or do they aim more toward inclusivity to give queer actors a chance to perform?
Perhaps the real solution lies in not policing who can play what roles, but in creating more opportunities for queer actors to shine.
As an integral part of the conversation, I ask that you consider what it means for straight actors to play queer characters. Is there room in this glittery world of ours for straight actors to sashay in? Or do we reserve roles for queer actors alone?
Until we reach a conclusion, let us keep the conversation going. Challenge the status quo, challenge the lackluster representation Hollywood feeds us, demand authenticity and quality and, above all, we must support the fabulous queer actors brave enough to leave the closet for the spotlight.