THE BOYS IN THE BAND
With an all-star and all-gay cast, a new Netflix film adaptation of seminal play The Boys in the Band entertains and provokes in equal measure
On song with the starry cast of Netflix’s adaptation of the 1960s play
It’s a muggy day in 1960s New York City, and in a shabby-but-cool apartment, two gay men, Michael and Donald, prepare a birthday party for their friend, Harold. Easy banter reveals their closeness as they limber up for the night ahead. What could possibly go wrong? Well, now that you ask…
The Boys in the Band is a key moment in the history of gay rights. In 1968, this play, written by young unknown Mart Crowley, blew the lid off the gay experience, taking it out of the closet and positioning it firmly centre stage. Literally. A birthday party becomes a cathartic emotional meltdown for a friendship circle, allowing the audience an insight into the workings of a complex group of nine (mostly) gay men.
Having worked on a number of film and television productions in a junior capacity, Crowley met and was befriended by actress Natalie Wood (Rebel Without a Cause). Spotting his talent, she hired him as an assistant, allowing him to concentrate on writing his play. This brave show of ally-ship by Wood was to bear spectacular fruit. Drawing heavily on his experiences and inspired by his own close friendship circle, Crowley’s play was absolutely fearless for the time. Crowley was baring his soul. It was funny — but there was agony here, too. At one point, drunken lead character Michael says, “If we could just not hate ourselves so much…”
No one was more surprised than Crowley when the play became an overnight sensation. It became the ‘must-see’ play of the moment, enjoying a run of more than a thousand performances.
It’s unusual for an important play to repeat that achievement in the cinema, but that’s what happened when The Boys in the Band was first adapted for the silver screen by William Friedkin in 1970. This brilliant young maverick had recently adapted Harold Pinter’s The Birthday Party as a film. Not shying away from the gay content that many others found too hot to handle, he directed it with the same unsentimental humour that Crowley had brought to the stage production. Friedkin’s next film, The French Connection, won five Academy Awards, and was followed by his masterpiece, The Exorcist. He later returned to exploring gay content in 1980 with the highly controversial Al Pacino vehicle Cruising, some of which was shot on location in New York’s heavier S & M bars.
There have been two high-profile recent revivals of The Boys in the Band — a classic, and still divisive, play — one in 2016 in London, and another Tony Award-winning version in 2018 on Broadway. This latter version boasted a high-profile, all-gay cast, and has now been adapted into a film for Netflix, directed by Joe Mantello.
“With a revival, there’s always that question of, ‘Why now?’” says Mantello. “I think this material’s got an unfair rap on what it’s about. There’s a general criticism that it’s about self-loathing. When I look at it, I see all sorts of instances of bravery, tenderness, and grace. Shame isn’t front and centre — although it’s certainly part of the story, given the world these men live in. And let’s face it — a film about nine saints isn’t terribly compelling.”
It’s hard to grasp the initial impact of a play like this about the gay male experience now, 52 years after its premiere. Here were characters that had previously been relegated to the shadows, standing in the spotlight and using the ‘c’ word — right up there, onstage. Homosexuality was still illegal in the majority of states in America, and police harassment was commonplace. Gay men were living in a state of siege. Involvement in the production was at great cost to the cast and crew. During the play’s run, a police raid on the nearby gay bar the Stonewall Inn while they screened Judy Garland films fuelled a riot that would mark the dawn of international gay liberation. (Ironically, The Boys in the Band was named after a quote from one of Garland’s most famous films, A Star is Born. In it, James Mason tells Garland, “You’re singing for yourself and the boys in the band.”)
“When I was researching the society in which the characters were living in,” says Mantello, “I read a front-page article in The New York Times from the time where they referred to homosexual men as ‘deviants’ and ‘perverts’. These characters would have been bombarded with these kinds of words every day, so I object to people who see these characters as self-loathing without contextualising the world in which they were living in, the images they were being shown, and how they were being framed in society. Once you see that, it’s easier to forgive them their foibles.”
The context in which they would have lived was also a key for Matt Bomer (Magic Mike, American Horror Story, The Sinner, Doom Patrol), who plays mild-mannered Donald. “This is a play about a generation that had no role models, or horizons to look to that weren’t circumscribed by oppressive societal impositions,” says Bomer, “and yet [the writer] Mart ended up becoming the most amazing role model you could ever hope for in a gay man. He was happy. He was fulfilled. He was funny. He was charming. He was intelligent. He was worldly-wise. Not mean or cruel. He was an amazing example of what it means to be a gay artist in maturity.”
The play originally opened against a backdrop of social and political upheaval in America; Dr Martin Luther King was assassinated ten days before the play opened, and racial tensions were high. The fact that Crowley had included a black man as the character Bernard added to the controversy; this was a time when segregation was still very much a part of the gay experience, even in New York. This was no statement. Just as he’d put the personal before the political in creating all his characters, Bernard was based on an important sexual encounter he’d had back home in Mississippi.
“I asked Mart why he included him in the play,” says Michael Benjamin Washington (30 Rock), who played Bernard in the Broadway production, as well as in the upcoming film. “He shared a very special story about a young man that he knew a long time ago, a black man that was a friend of the family. Including a black, gay male into this white tribe and into these narratives that are usually carried by people of European decent, I think it was really brave of him.”
As quickly as the play was lauded, it was attacked — and from unexpected quarters. Of course, there was the indignant heterosexual reaction, as was to be expected, but many involved in the fight for gay liberation felt that the play didn’t show their experience in a positive enough light. The feeling was echoed across the Atlantic when the 1970 film version was picketed by members of the Gay
“I OBJECT TO PEOPLE WHO SEE THESE CHARACTERS AS SELF-LOATHING” JOE MANTELLO
Liberation Front in London, who handed out leaflets to patrons as they left the screening.
These accusations have returned to haunt the play over the years. “There’s never going to be one answer for an entire group of people,” says Washington. “It’s like when the film The Help came out and there was a lot of uproar amongst black people that we don’t want to see ourselves as maids, we’ve come too far for that — but I venture to say there are a lot of domestic workers in Mississippi right now who still exist in that same paradigm, and still experience those same racial tensions as those characters did in the 1950s. I don’t think we ever fully come away from something — but there’s an evolution of thought, and progress. I don’t see the men in this story as self-loathing. We always make the star the outside force that we are pushing against —the white straight man that’s outside looking in at these gay men – but these gay men are not looking outside. They have their own agency.”
Mantello raises the point of how all-encompassing it can be when a gay artist creates something about queer life. “We’re not allowed to just investigate a particular story about a particular night with a particular group of characters. We’re automatically policed about it, and have to
not only defend the creative choices we’ve made, but also defend the piece itself,” he says. “I don’t think our straight counterparts have to do that. When you look at a play and film like Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, you can look at that through the lens of addiction, or as a couple who play games and drink heavily — but the couple don’t represent all heterosexual couples. They’re allowed to exist on their own terms.”
Andrew Rannells, who plays the philandering Larry, is part of a wave of actors who are out — and have always been able to be out. “I’ve been very fortunate to be a part of shows like Girls, The New Normal, then I was on Broadway with this,” he says. “Those were all beautiful depictions of relationships and gay men. I feel like things are getting better, with more people sharing their stories. More producers and directors are giving more opportunities to gay writers and storytellers, and that’s what’s making it better. Something like Boys in the Band having to represent everyone — it’s an impossible task.
“Mart wasn’t trying to represent everyone — he’s telling the story of these nine men on one particular night. I think that’s why it was applauded, and why others shied away from it, thinking, I don’t see myself in that. Well, I love Ozark, but I’m not a money launderer. I feel that we need to give ourselves permission to tell all sorts of stories. And if some of them aren’t pretty, that’s OK, too. They don’t have to always represent the best parts of us.”
One of the play’s greatest challenges was its enormous success. This wasn’t just an important gay play; it was the only important gay play of its era. And as such, it was expected
“THIS PLAY IS ABOUT A GENERATION THAT HAD NO ROLE MODELS” MATT BOMER
to be all things to all people, a frankly impossible task.
The lead character Michael is clearly an alcoholic, and his nosedive from amusing host to vituperative harridan as the party progresses makes for uncomfortable — and compelling — viewing; hardly the poster boy for a revolution. But then why should he have to be? This is the conundrum of all minority representation — how does one weigh the importance of emotional honesty and genuine personal experience against public perception? Look at towering gay talents, writers Tennessee Williams and Truman Capote, for instance, who would have been only slightly older than Crowley’s characters. Both battled crippling alcoholism, and died of alcohol-related causes. They weren’t necessarily role models for the young gay men who followed them, but no one can deny the importance of the legacies they left behind. Would we benefit from airbrushing the darker tones out of their lives, or are we better served taking the good with the bad, and acknowledging the difficult circumstances
both these brilliant and sensitive minds were forced to endure, living in a hostile society? “All humans experience addiction,” says Washington. “Every single person has an addiction, whether it’s alcohol, sex, money, spending, or whatever your particular drug of choice is. When your past walks through the door, what do you reach for? And who do you become when you use it?”
Robin de Jesús, who reprises his Broadway role as the fabulously femme Emory in the film, points out how much of the plot is about other issues, “So much of The Boys in the Band is about alcoholism, but people don’t really pick up on that,” he says. “It always comes back to criticising these characters as self-loathing gays — but I think if you’re watching it with those eyes, there’s another conversation you should be having with yourself. As gay men, we deserve to be messy. We deserve to have stories where we’re not perfect. The past was fucked-up. We cannot go back to that shit. We can no longer find the behaviour of society as acceptable. We have to lean into our own in empowerment and believe that we are worthy of the same happiness that every other heterosexual/ cisgender person is entitled to as well.”
The bitchiness of the characters has also drawn criticism over the years. So much a part of the fabric of gay culture, it was honed to a fine art by the New York queens recorded in the documentary Paris is Burning, and later popularised by RuPaul’s Drag Race: “The library… is open!” But the gay community has also always been divided about its value — is a cutting barb disguised as playful banter something to be celebrated, or simply a defensive mechanism that betrays our insecurities? Zachary Quinto
(Star Trek, American Horror Story) plays the scene-stealing Harold in the film. He’s a fierce character who’s unafraid to turn his caustic wit on anyone – including himself. “I’m a 32-year-old, ugly, pock-marked, Jew fairy,” he announces in one of his opening lines.
De Jesús identifies with this behaviour, to some extent. “As a kid, I was self-deprecating. I protected myself by making fun of myself before anyone else could,” he admits. “Whatever weapon you were going to use, I was going to steal that shit from you and use it first. When I first encountered it, I thought it was so malicious, but I eventually realised there was also a creativity to it that makes it really stimulating to watch.” Ultimately, though, he sees it as the result of people under duress. “I think that it’s the product of really scared and vulnerable people having to put up a front to protect themselves. It came from us trying to protect ourselves, and our hearts.”
Quinto, on the other hand, admired his character’s acerbic tongue, and saw it as something of an asset. “When a person is consistently dismissed, put down and alienated, I think there comes a point beyond which they’re no longer interested in the veneer of pleasantry or politeness,” he says. “The kernel of the gay tendency toward bitchiness is about seeing things for what they are and calling them exactly that.”
The process of doing the play on Broadway and then shooting it was a voyage of discovery for the whole cast, giving them an opportunity to confront their most personal experiences. Jim Parsons (The Big Bang
Theory), who plays the party host Michael with masterful sensitivity, was no exception. “I realised that being gay and growing up around people and in a culture where that wasn’t celebrated — where it was reviled, in many ways — had an impact on me. Happy as I am, I’m still working out the fear I grew up with: that by revealing who I really am, I will somehow lose the love of the people who are important to me. This story wasn’t a direct reflection of my time, and things have changed rapidly for gay people over the last couple of decades, but even now, there’s that residual [feeling].”
The darker themes of addiction, narcissism, fear of ageing and lack of self-esteem may not have fitted well with early gay liberation’s wish for positive role models, or gone down well with later critics who felt that portraying them was somehow regressive – but the reality is, they remain important issues for the gay community even today.
“I think it’s as relevant today as the 1960s,” says de Jesús. “Back then you were literally protecting yourself from violence – but the beauty of today is that we’ve evolved: we
“AS GAY MEN, WE DESERVE TO BE MESSY. THE PAST WAS FUCKED-UP” ROBIN DE JESÚS
still have the same problems, but we can get deeper into the nuances of them, like with the iPad zoomed in. So maybe nowadays it’s not as much about physical violence — although that’s still an issue, especially for our trans community — but it’s also about emotional sustainability. How do we support each other? So I think there’s absolutely a parallel with today.”
Over 50 years since the play first opened, society is still facing the same challenges to progress. Quinto says of the current US president. “Our country is being driven into the ground by an administration which is permeated by this patriarchal-white-male, heterosexual, homophobic, trans-phobic mentality,” he says. “Persecution still exists. It has shifted slightly into different factions of our community. With increased trans visibility — a huge step forward in the last five or ten years — there’s come increased violence against trans people — particularly black, trans women, and trans women of colour. As gay white men, maybe our challenges have diminished slightly, but we owe it to one another to stand up on behalf of each other. Violence against one of us is violence against all of us. It’s a complicated issue and we’ve come far — but we still have a way to go.”
The very fact that the play has been staged countless times over the years, along with the success of the original film and the current Netflix adaptation, is a testament to the ongoing relevance of The Boys in the Band. One of the reasons behind its relevance is the profoundly human portrayal of the characters. The idea of a chosen family has always been central to the gay experience,
and this feeling of intense camaraderie is intensely apparent here. Beyond the squabbling and insults, there remains an unbreakable bond between these men, an unshakeable loyalty that’s deeply moving.
“There’s nothing like doing the play on Broadway to standing-room audiences every night to confirm that it still has resonance today,” says Quinto. “Mart painted all of his characters with this very specific brush so that they’re reflective of people we all know in our lives.”
Although the story unapologetically documents the gay experience in a specific time, many will recognise themselves and their friends in the characters: the shy one, the bitchy one, the peacekeeper, the Romeo, the argumentative couple, the stirrer… we’ve all been there. The genius of Mart Crowley’s creation — and perhaps the play shares this with all truly significant art — is that it remains a universal story, one that continues to resonate with all kinds of audiences. “I think the play is timeless,” says Rannells. “I look at my own group of friends, and there are times we’re not very kind to each other. There are times when we’re brutally honest in a way that nobody else is, in a way that’s sometimes cool, and sometimes is not.
“Stepping back from the play itself and looking at the original actors, I’m extraordinarily grateful for what they did, and how brave they were. Over 50 years ago, it was a leap for those men to be a part of this. While it was a huge success in many ways, many of them felt the ramifications of being in it for the rest of their lives. We’ve all made our choice to live as honestly as we can — and we are only able to do that because of people who came before us.”
Viewing the film highlights how far gay men have come over the intervening decades — but that doesn’t mean they aren’t currently facing challenges, both socially, and more specifically within the entertainment industry. “I’ve done a lot of work on myself over the years, and I feel grateful for that,” says Quinto. “Being in this play and seeing what a challenge it was for these characters to love themselves made me grateful for my personal experience, and for growing up in the time I grew up in. For being able to arrive at a place of genuinely accepting and loving who I am.”
But the fight is far from over, Quinto continues, “There is a mentality outside of capital cities in America that equates homosexuality with diminished masculinity, which is simply not the same thing. It’s simply not. I do think that’s changing. When you see this group of us in this film, and you see the other projects that we’ve done, it’s a way to keep the conversation going and to keep moving things forward.”
There are definitely more opportunities for gay actors than ever before — but there’s still a price to pay for being out. “We’re living in a day and age where there are actors and athletes
“THIS PLAY MADE ME GRATEFUL FOR GROWING UP IN THE TIME I GREW UP IN”
ZACHARY QUINTO
and public figures who are openly gay and have been unafraid to acknowledge that,” says Bomer, “but without a question, there’s a tradeoff, in my experience. I came out at a time when it was very risky to do so — I had a studio film that was about to premiere, and a television series coming out. But to me it was more important to be my most authentic self, both for my family, and for myself. I wasn’t trying to be a role model, nor am I now, but I thought if it could help just one person, then it would be worth it. But to say that didn’t cost me certain things in my career would be a lie. It did. To me that trade-off was worth it. But it hasn’t been some fairy tale — no pun intended.”
Coming out still isn’t a decision lightly made. “I’m triggered sometimes when I hear people complaining about someone not coming out of the closet, or someone coming out at late age,” says de Jesus, “because you don’t know what they’ve been through. There still is a risk in certain families. Families are what create you, and keep you alive, and give you your moral compass – and for some people that structure is put in danger by coming out. It’s not just about being your authentic self
– it can also be about potentially losing your love structure, and that is deep, and heavy, and dangerous. The stakes are high.”
Parsons was living an openly gay life, but made the decision to come out publicly in 2012 when he was enjoying enormous popularity in his role of Sheldon Cooper in
The Big Bang Theory. He was surprised by the impact of the process. “To suddenly publicly be part of a large group that has been — and still is — maligned at times, with hateful things being said about them by other public figures — there was a sense of happiness and strength for me that I couldn’t have predicted. As soon as it became a story, it made me feel very strong, and I think in this day and age it only helped career-wise. I certainly have never felt it hurt my career — at all. It probably even helped me be a better actor. There’s always more layers of yourself you can share.”
The extraordinary intimacy and chemistry of working with the all-gay cast for the 2018 Broadway show, and then for the film adaptation, is clearly apparent on-screen. “It was such a freeing experience to get to tell a story with an entirely gay ensemble and creative team,” says Bomer. “There are often times on set where I am the only openly gay person there, and I’ve learnt how to manage that and do the work — but it was so nice to have this collective experience together and a shared sense of who we are, and who we want to be, and an understanding of each other. I think that really informed the work.”
Parsons agrees. “So many members of the
“COMING OUT IS A RISK IN CERTAIN FAMILIES. THE STAKES ARE HIGH” ROBIN DE JESÚS
original cast died of [Aids-related illnesses], and didn’t work again, and had to hide their sexuality even while they were doing this ground-breaking gay play. So the camaraderie, and the shared view of the world, and having everyone in his own unique way being a part of that — I’ve never experienced anything like it before. It led to us becoming a kind of family. There’s just a specific bond unlike anything else I’ve ever been a part of.”
It’s a sign of the confidence of contemporary gay culture that it can return to a story like this with more forgiving eyes, enjoying it free of the weight of unrealistic expectations, and sending it out into the wider world. On a platform like Netflix, the film will reach millions of viewers across hugely diverse cultures, both LGBTQ audiences and otherwise. “I think it’s going to strike a chord with people,” says Quinto. “I’m thrilled that we get to share the story with such a wide range of people. At the end of the day, it’s a fun romp, beautifully shot.”
The Boys in the Band is on Netflix from 30 September