Before I begin, I just want to make one thing undisputably clear: for the most part, I really enjoyed Bohemian Rhapsody. I thought Rami Malek’s performance as the late-Queen frontman Freddie Mercury was sensational, masterfully capturing both the singer’s outlandish stage persona and his deceptively insecure private demeanour. Malek brings a gravitas to the role of Mercury that, in the hands of a lesser actor, might have been more akin to an overly enthusiastic and misguided late-night karaoke performance at the local pub and, because of this, I feel that the number of accolades he picked up during award’s season (including the Academy Award for Best Actor) were very much deserved. The film’s extended final scene of the band’s legendary Live Aid set in 1985 is electric and the use of Queen’s back-catalogue throughout makes for an experience that will have you banging your head and singing in your car on the way home Wayne’s World style if nothing else.
However, there is one area of the film that I do take
issue with and that is the way in which Bohemian
Rhapsody depicts Freddie’s sexuality. Whilst it has been noted elsewhere in
the discourse surrounding this film that Mercury was famously private about his
sexuality (he never publicly came out) and that there is no official confirmation
of what the singer identified as, his affairs with members of both sexes have
led to him being claimed as somewhat of an icon for the bisexual community.
Last year I wrote of the need for diversifying the kinds of stories that were
being depicted on-screen, particularly when it comes to that of the portrayal
of bisexuals, a group that has went drastically under-represented in media for
a long time. Furthermore, even in the few instances that bisexuality has been
depicted, it has rarely been allowed to exist unchallenged. One particular
instance that has stuck with me for years came from the supposedly-progressive late
2000’s series Glee, with the
openly-gay character Kurt Hummel lambasting his crush for questioning his
sexual-orientation, stating that “bisexual is a term that gay guys in high
school use when they want to hold hands with girls and feel like a normal
person for a change.” Charming.
Seriously though, I remember this comment messing me
up to an extent as a young guy questioning what I was: if this show that was hailed
as universally inclusive didn’t even accept who I thought I was, where did I really
fit in? And while it is true that representation of most minorities has increased
across the board in the last decade, bisexuals remain one of the least-serviced
of all minority groups. I reiterate: even in the few situations where
bisexuality has been represented on screen, it is rarely allowed to exist
without having its validity questioned. For example, one of the most popular
bisexual characters of recent years has been Brooklyn 99’s Rosa Diaz. Diaz is, for the most part, a truly great
and realistic depiction of the bisexual existence and her status as a central
character on a widely watched sit-com like 99
makes her proclamation of her sexual identity an important step in
normalising bisexuality in the mainstream. However, even in her case, Rosa’s
“coming out” storyline falls into the same pitfalls and outdated tropes that
bisexual characters featured in films and television shows have had to go
through before. In the Season 5 episode ‘Game Night’, Rosa comes out to her
parents, telling them that she is bisexual over a game of Pictionary (as you
do). She soon uncharacteristically tears up and storms out her parents’ house
after they dismiss her identity as “just a phase” and claim that there is no
such thing as bisexuality. Ten years after hearing my existence challenged for
the first time, I am now frustrated at hearing these lines uttered in media.
Surely as a society we’ve accepted bisexuality as legitimate? Straight people
have never had to watch any film or television show which directly challenges
their sexual orientation. So too have gay people rarely heard anyone question
the validity of their lifestyle, especially since the dawn of the millennia.
So, why is bisexuality constantly put to the test? Even on the rare occasion
wherein a bisexual character is permitted to announce their identity without
being met with scepticism, their sexual preference is presented as more of a
fetish or kink than it is a legitimate identity. Take Toni Topaz from The CW’s Riverdale. While Toni’s status as bi is
never disputed on the show, her character is often presented as merely a
sex-symbol and her sexuality presented as a quirk (see the character’s
performance of ‘Dead Girl Walking’ from the episode ‘BIG FUN’).
My point in outlining all of this is to give context
of my attitude going into Bohemian
Rhapsody. I felt that this was the opportunity to showcase a bisexual man
at the front and centre of a major studio production, to properly tell a story
that hadn’t been told on this scale before. And for one brief second when
Freddie tells his fiancé Mary Austin (played by the crazily talented Lucy
Boynton) that he “thinks he might be bisexual” I was buzzing. I thought that
this was it, we were going to see the story of a man trying to come to terms
with his sexual identity, an identity that hasn’t been explored to its full
potential in mainstream media. But then it happened.
“You’re gay Freddie”.
That was Mary’s reply. Freddie doesn’t dispute it.
Bisexuality, erased. The word is never mentioned again throughout the entire
film. And yeah, I get it. I get that back in the 70’s and 80’s people were not
as open-minded about sexual-fluidity as they are now. I get that it’s a film
and for the benefit of the story it had to take some liberties. I get that this
film was made with the consultation of some of the people who knew him best, so
who am I to judge? Here’s the thing though, if you look at the reputation and
track-records of the team behind this production, an alarming pattern of
personal ego and historic inaccuracy begins to become apparent.
Take
screen-writer Anthony McCarten. Whilst clearly an extremely talented and
popular storyteller, his previous efforts The
Theory of Everything and Darkest Hour
have both been accused of taking major liberties with the way in which they
depicted the lives of their subjects. McCarten may be an accomplished writer, but
he is clearly not a man who is sensitive to the history he is manipulating.
More controversially, let’s look at a man who is surrounded by so much smoke it
is quite frankly baffling that no one has been able to locate the fire, and
that is this Bohemian Rhapsody’s one-time
director Bryan Singer. With difficulty I will set-aside the disgusting rumours
of Singer’s private exploits and the fact that he left this production with two
weeks left to film: Singer was at the helm of the film for its development and
was a huge part of what eventually came to be on-screen. However, therein lies
the problem. Singer’s idea of representation can be boiled down to one or two
lines in the X-Men franchise that
could be said to draw comparisons between homophobia and the prejudice that the
mutants face in those films. Maybe. If you squint a bit. Seriously though, if
there was a man who I wanted to bring a nuanced story depicting a non-binary
form of sexuality to life in a satisfying way, it would most definitely not be
Brian Singer. Which brings me to Brian May. No disrespect to May, but maybe if
he spent more time making sure that the portrayal of Freddie’s sexual identity
wasn’t boiled down to one of two binary constructs instead of making sure that
he himself came across as one of the greatest human-beings to walk God’s green
Earth then perhaps I wouldn’t be writing this article right now.
I suppose what I’m saying is I shouldn’t really be
surprised that I didn’t get what I wanted. While it did end up being what I
consider to be a very good film, Bohemian
Rhapsody could have been something so much more. It could have been the
moment I have been waiting for. It could have been the ground-breaking
portrayal of a bisexual icon that young bisexual kids could grow up, watch and
say “Hey, this guy’s like me”. Unfortunately, I am still waiting. Unfortunately,
once again, bisexuality was erased.
No, I don’t know the truth about who Freddie Mercury
was, nor would I pretend to. But the fact of the matter is this: in the years
since his death, Freddie has been held up as an icon of the bisexual community.
Even if those who made this film are absolutely adamant that the man behind the
story was a homosexual, to have bisexuality dismissed in such a haphazard way
in nothing less than a slap in the face. Once again, I hope a day comes when I
don’t need to continue writing articles like this, but as long as bisexuality
continues to be dismissed in such a way in front of millions and millions of
paying audience members, I do not see myself stopping any time soon.
