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Queer as Folk Tackles Lesbians Who Sleep With Men - and Misses
Sarah Warn, July 2004

Lindsay and Sam Lindsay and Sam
LIndsay and Melanie

Showtime's hit series Queer as Folk has never been accused of playing it safe, and Season Four, with its storylines of bug chasers, straight-bashing gays, and teen hustlers, is no exception. The series strives to continually expand the boundaries of acceptable television, and it often succeeds--at least, with its male characters.

The same cannot be said of the show's lesbian characters, however, which have consistently been saddled with cliched and boring storylines that have even veered on sexist at times. This season, QAF attempts to reverse this trend by exploring the controversial topic of lesbians who sleep with men, but ends up only recycling a well-worn plot device that has been showcased in more movies than anyone can count (most recently seen in Gigli and the upcoming Spike Lee movie She Hate Me)--and worse, doing it badly.

Lindsay (Thea Gill) meets famous-artist Sam (Robin Thomas) midway through the season, and over the course of the next few episodes an attraction begins to develop between them as she prepares to show his work at her gallery, and he inspires her to start drawing again. In Episode 4.10, when Lindsay has sex with Melanie (Michelle Clunie), her partner of eight years, Lindsay is uninspired--until Melanie uses a sex toy at Lindsay's request that we're clearly meant to understand is a phallic replacement. Later that episode, after Lindsay's big gallery opening, she and Sam have sudden, frantic sex against a wall in the empty, darkened gallery. Afterwards, Lindsay returns home to a sleeping Melanie and guiltily slips into bed after showering.

In the next episode, Lindsay refuses to return Sam's phone calls, telling him sex was a mistake and bidding him goodbye as he drives off into the wild blue yonder. But Melanie suspects the truth about Sam and Lindsay's tryst and confronts Lindsay, who doesn't deny it and insists it "reconfirmed for me that this is who I am. That my life is with you and Gus. And the baby. That I still choose you." To which Melanie responds "I'm not so sure that I still choose you." In the next episode, the issue is addressed through a handful of shouting matches between the two as Melanie tells Lindsay that she can't be a lesbian if she sleeps with men, and Lindsay alternately protests and grovels for forgiveness.

The issue comes to a head in the season finale airing next week, as Lindsay finally tires of Melanie's anger and appears to be leaving, in a cliffhanger ending of sorts.

The concept of self-defined lesbians who sleep with men is not in itself an unworthy topic to explore, if for no other reason than that it is a major taboo within the gay community. We all know women who have at one point identified as lesbians who later sleep with, date, or even end up married to a man, but we mostly try to ignore it, or pigeonhole these women as latent bisexuals (the underlying assumption, of course, being that you can't trust bisexual women, which is a whole other problem).

But television and film aimed at a mass market in which the lesbians are very minor characters is not the place to explore this topic. You cannot possibly do justice to such a complex and sensitive subject in one or two minutes a week, which is about how much screen time the lesbian characters get on Queer As Folk. In real life, sleeping with a man for the first time would cause most lesbians to re-examine their sexual orientation, even if they ultimately determined that they still identified as a lesbian. On QAF, it results in only a brief conversation between Lindsay and Brian (in which Lindsay says that she doesn't consider herself bisexual), and a handful of one-sided, simplistic, and stereotypical rants by Melanie and one-line protests by Lindsay, like this exchange in Episode 4.12:

MELANIE: I know which team I play on. It's not a choice or a preference. It's who I am. It's who I've always been. A rug muncher, a muff diver, a cunt lapper, a bull, a lezzie, a dyke.
LINDSAY: What do you think I am?
MELANIE: Don't ask me to make up your mind for you. You have to do that all by yourself.
LINDSAY: I'm a lesbian.
MELANIE: Not if your having sex with a man honey.

This is pretty much the extent to which the issue is explored; even in Melanie and Lindsay's conversations in the last two episodes about whether they're going to stay together, Lindsay's motivation for the affair is still never really discussed, just its consequences.

This is TV, of course, where everything happens faster than it does it real life--but a storyline that is both extremely complicated and has the potential to reinforce such powerful negative stereotypes deserves more than a few seconds of screen time. If you can't explore it properly, than don't explore it at all, or you'll just end up doing more damage than good--which is exactly what QAF is doing with this storyline.

The lesbian-who-sleeps-with-a-man plot device has been used so frequently in entertainment that it dwarfs almost all other representations of lesbians on screen (except perhaps the equally frustrating lesbian-motherhood plot device, which QAF also employs regularly), and gives the impression that it occurs more frequently in real life than it actually does--that in fact, most lesbians want to sleep with men, rather than just a few. It also makes no distinction between lesbians and bisexual women, and continues to reinforce the notion that bisexual women will inevitably betray lesbians for a man, as if infidelity is the particular vice of one sexual orientation rather than cutting across all.

In a recent article in The Boston Globe, reporter Matthew Gilbert cited this storyline as an example of a trend towards more sexual fluidity on TV:

But the most unexpected fence-jump came a few weeks ago from a lesbian on Showtime's "Queer as Folk," Lindsay, who had an explosive extra-relationship sexual experience with a man. Lindsay was as surprised by her hetero dalliance as the show's viewers, who'd experienced her as a "committed" lesbian and one of little Gus's two mommies. Indeed, this kind of sexual ambiguity asks more of viewers, who've grown comfortable with the sort of gay-straight split embodied by "Will & Grace." We can become disoriented watching a character's sexual dis-orientation.

While Gilbert makes some interesting observations in the article and correctly notes that sexual ambiguity is becoming more common on television, he fails to differentiate between characters who are truly sexually ambiguous or questioning, and characters who momentarily switch sexual orientations with no real intention by the show to actually explore the topic or provide any follow-through in the future. Lumping Lindsay in with a character like The L Word's Jenny (who is truly exploring her sexuality), as Gilbert does in the article, is like saying that the ratings-stunt lesbian kiss between Ally and Ling on Ally McBeal is equivalent to Willow's season-long wrestling with her feelings for Tara on Buffy.

Which is exactly why a storyline like this is better left to shows like The L Word, with lesbian or lesbian-friendly writers, multiple lesbian characters, and enough screen time to address the subject properly. Say what you will about how annoying Jenny is, at least the writers are realistically exploring her sexual orientation, not just dumping her in bed with a man for shock value and then moving on after five minutes as if it never happened.

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