It
wasn't until 1994, however, that we had the first lesbian
kiss on a prime-time television series, on the soap Brookside.
The papers couldn’t get enough of the fledgling romance
between Beth (Anna Friel) and Margaret (Nicola Stephenson) and
neither could we. So by the time the kiss was aired, it was
a guaranteed ratings-buster. But Anna Friel wanted to leave,
and since Beth’s coming-out ran parallel with the storyline
of her abusive father and his subsequent murder, it was inevitable
that her character was going to be written out.
Britian's
Channel 4 has always been proactive in promoting gay and lesbian
programming, once devoting an entire Christmas Eve to gay-themed
programs. Camp Christmas, though laudable in its efforts,
was truly awful despite the best intentions of Andy Bell, Melissa
Etheridge, Derek Jarman et al (the highlight was the straight
boy-band East 17 desperately trying to be as butch as possible
to reassure their girlie fan base that they “love the
Laydee’s”). Since then, the network has had occasional
weekends of content aimed specifically at gay viewers.
When
Ellen Degeneres's sitcom character came
out in 1997, Channel 4 dedicated a whole night to Ellen,
showing previous episodes and documentaries on Ellen DeGeneres
and lesbians in the media, all culminating in the airing of
“the puppy episode.” Ellen and Anne were there,
openly canoodling in the studio. (“The puppy episode”
was recently shown on Channel 4 unedited at 9am, probably just
after Bear in the Big Blue House.) This is in stark
contrast to the backlash experienced by ABC in the US when the
episode initially aired.
The
next major leap forward came with Queer
as Folk, the British version. Before the first episode
even aired in 1999, the papers were having a field day about
the content (even though some hadn’t even seen it, the
title was enough), and our upstanding moral guardians, The National
Viewers and Listeners Association (NTVLA), thought the world
was coming to end.
So
what was the result of the outcry? Virtually the entire country
tuned in to the program, which was broadcast on network TV.
It
soon became apparent that this was a really superior piece of
TV and after a couple of episodes, the newspaper critics who
condemned it ate a piece of humble pie and admitted the same.
The day after the broadcast, it was the only topic of conversation
at my workplace, although why my straight co-workers thought
I would know about male gay sex is a mystery to me (that’s
straight people for you).
Queer as Folk really opened the eyes of the British
public to gay sex between men, but it wasn’t until Tipping
the Velvet aired in 2002 that we saw something similar
for lesbian sex. It wasn’t exactly “full on”
and the “filthiest program the BBC had ever shown,”
as the BBC so proudly proclaimed in its advertisements for Velvet
in a transparent ploy to lure the straight male viewer, but
lesbian and straight viewers alike seemed to enjoy the adaptation,
as it went on to generate the highest ratings for for the channel
in two years.
Which
brings us back to Fingersmith in 2005, and
the fact that there was almost no pre-broadcast hysteria. The
media coverage of it in advance was so low key I nearly missed
it altogether (sometimes the NVTLA's protests come in handy,
for giving us a heads-up on what to watch). Unfortunately, the
ratings were low-key, too, but the three-part series still received
much critical acclaim.
Meanwhile,
the second season of The L
Word is due to start on Living TV on June 15th with
little fanfare, and the most recent season of the U.S. version
of Queer as Folk has already been shown (while we do
have America to thank for the current crop of quality TV featuring
gay and lesbian characters, I have to say that none of our programs
have ever had such a God-awful theme song like the one used
for The L Word's second season).
When
a program is broadcast here with "controversial" content,
there is usually an outcry from middle England (the southern,
middle-class, conservative-voting, Daily Mail-reading,
gin & tonic-drinking brigade) and a bit of bandwagon-jumping
from the tabloids in order to sell more copies. But in true
English fashion, all the kerfuffle dies down fairly quickly,
and we return to discussing the weather and the price of fish
and chips.
Most of the people in the country make up their own minds and
generally applaud the programs for simply being, well, bloody
good.
Our
Victorian forefathers worked hard to propagate the myth that
the British are straight-laced, prim and proper. But as the
recent progress around lesbian visibility on British television
shows, our reputation for “No sex please, we’re
British” is outdated, and should be placed firmly back
in the Victorian age, where it belongs.
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