Queering Nostalgia
Increased LGBTQ+ representation in a new era of TV reboots
Reboots, remakes and reimaginings are all the rage right now. From the promising arrival of an utterly queer new Gossip Girl series to the lingering suspense of Disney’s next big LGBTQ+ move, representation on the small screen is having a big cultural moment. While there’s some scepticism around the reinventions of shows, recreations don’t have to mean a lack of nuance. If anything, a skilful mix of pastiche and originality could give way to some unexpected TV gems.
In such a dreary time, nostalgia has become a soothing balm for our outward anxieties. Striking a balance between escapism and intrigue, this new wave of shows has built what I call a ‘spillover state’ for viewers; an experience of anemoia for viewers who have discovered a longingness for a cultural period they couldn’t have experienced. Ashamedly guilty of that very emotion, too often I find myself feeling nostalgic over the first seasons of Friends, filmed across the mid90s, which was years before I was born. For many of us stuck in the crosshairs of the Gen Z and Millennial time frame, older shows have served as a cultural bridging gap that has allowed us to divulge into a romanticised retro world of British and American dramas. Now, as reboots arise, young LGBTQ+ viewers have been given a gateway to experience rehashed TV classics. For some of us, these newly built small screen universes are first-time havens; a fruitful combination of old-school influence with greater diversity and representation.
Queering nostalgia might sound like a washed upshot of prying open the pockets of LGBTQ+ viewers, so we cash out on the opportunity to be represented, but I don’t believe in that all too cynical take. Sure, reboots will boost streaming stats and flood networks with a whole new range of new viewers, but they also create meaningful communities. TV shows have the ability to unite viewers, drive home life-changing plotlines, and can create a fictitious safe space for global audiences. Take Netflix’s She-Ra and the Princess of Power as an example. Released in 2018, the animated series is a reboot of the 1985 series She-Ra: Princess of Power. Emerging at a time where cartoons were beginning to feature more LGBTQ+ characters (Adventure Time, Steven Universe), She-Ra became a tour de force of inclusivity. This fresh-faced action-comedy cartoon series stood front and centre with a difference; it was led by two glaringly obvious LGBTQ+ characters, and it didn’t stop there. Protagonist Adora, a chosen teen who has the ability to transform into the superheroine SheRa, was continuously surrounded by a tight-knit circle of friends who expressed gender and sexuality differently. While the new action-packed animated series built on the mid-80s classic, it exceeded expectations and even snagged an Emmy nomination. Another groundbreaking example was Netflix’s gothic reboot of the late 90s sitcom Sabrina The Teenage Witch. Packed with plenty of twists and turns, the Chilling Adventures of Sabrina
paved the way with a main cast pansexual character (Ambrose), regular depictions of LGBTQ+ romance and hookups, and the series even offered a subplot to a non-binary character. So, who said reboots had to be boring?
As streaming culture continues to dominate, it would be amiss to ignore how it has fuelled the need for LGBTQ+ reboots. As we consume more content, we actively look for familiar favourites or safe nostalgic watches that we know will evoke some sentimentality. As childhoods have fallen into the loop, we have seen reboots from Saved By The Bell, One Day At A Time, and the undeniably queer-coded Girl Meets World. Each of these new series stemmed from their originals and crank up the diversity while they’re at it. Saved By The Bell outshined its 1989 counterpart by including a lead trans character and queer plotline, while One Day At A Time introduced what it’s self-titled 1975 equivalent lacked. The Netflix comedy put LGBTQ+
representation on the map with didactic episodes that stood in as brilliant explainers of sexuality and identity. Both these recreations proved that LGBTQ+ and gender non-conforming characters deserved more than sidelined roles. Disney, on the other hand, fumbled what could have been a breakout first. A spinoff series of the 1993 American sitcom Boy Meets World, Girl Meets World followed the life of former main character Cory Matthews and his daughter Riley Matthews (Rowan Blanchard). Running for three seasons, fans continuously speculated the sexuality of several characters, but especially Maya Hart (Sabrina Carpenter). During the show’s runtime, Blanchard came out as bisexual which spurred on the belief that Disney would make its first move introducing an LGBTQ+ character into an American comedy series - it didn’t. Deterred by fears of alienating its existing audience, Disney dodged any rumours and it’s all too predictable three-way love triangle plotline fizzled out and led to cancellation after a handful of underwhelming seasons in 2017. Girl Meets World skated by on nostalgia but brought a brand-new world of adventure to an online queer audience that was calling out to be represented on-screen. It took Disney another two years to kickstart any queer representation, which finally arrived in the form of High School Musical: The Musical: The Series in 2019. Featuring two openly gay characters, the TV series aimed to undo the criticism the 2006 high-flying film franchise faced. Lucas Grabeel portrayed Ryan Evans aka the twin brother of icon Sharpay Evans. Watching the films, there’s no second-guessing Ryan is anything but queer, but his identity, and anything that came with it, was swept under the carpet. Whether it’s Disney trying to get ahead of the curve or make reparations, it’s yet to be seen, but the inclusion of LGBTQ+ characters in the High School Musical universe was a welcomed step in the right direction.
As new LGBTQ+ releases continue to be reeled out, it’s difficult not to compare them to the originals. While most, if not all of them, have been well scripted and generous with their re-written characters, the new era of reboots and spin-offs have been an incredible success for networks, streaming platforms, and audiences. The L Word: Generation Q, released in 2019, based on the widely popular series The L Word, triumphantly meshed messy romance drama with wideranging LGBTQ+ inclusivity. We’ve also seen the return of Queer Eye franchise which was revived from its drop off in 2007. Making a splash in 2018, Netflix rebooted the hit makeover show which quickly became adopted as a go-to feel-good series brimming with throwback nostalgia and reality TV escapism. Even the British stomping ground classic The Story of Tracy Beaker has come back with a bang. In one of its opening episodes, My Mum Tracy Beaker rewrote a character’s straight marriage (Cam) finally got her married to a woman. A small victory, but it’s very much a sign of the times.
So, as nostalgia domination creeps in and creates a pathway for much-needed shows such as It’s A Sin and Pose, we can hope to see a widening variation in spin-offs and reboots. Don’t get me wrong, I do love a childhood classic, but the likes of She-Ra, One Day At A Time, and Queer Eye have shown us that LGBTQ+ characters, directors and writers are finally getting their due. Even pop culture monoliths such as the DC Universe and the Marvel Cinematic Universe are taking note. Both franchises have whipped out TV adaptations of comics (Supergirl, The Flash, Batwoman, WandaVision, Jessica Jones, Loki) that are promising more queer diversity than ever — our fateful nostalgia trips are pulling off more than we expected. So, while I’d like to say queering nostalgia is no big deal, it seems quite the opposite. We’re watching the small-screen industry catch up and promising to do better, and if it takes another reboot for creators to realise LGBTQ+ representation pays off, then I’m all for it.