Diversifying Your (Artist's) Portfolio aka My Gay Spider-Man Entry

Spider-Man, Spider-Man

Does it with either gal or man

Not restrained by gender

Unlike the author of Ender

Look out! Here comes queer Spider-Man!

Recently, Andrew Garfield made pseudo headlines by intimating that Mary Jane (or MJ) could be a dude for the next Spider-Man film and that Peter could be moving a few spots up on the Kinsey scale. As is to be expected, there were unhappy fanboys. And happy gays. And once more, the internet was at war. Ultimately, Garfield declared that, despite his wishes, there would be no queer Spidey, but people are still talking.

Ultimately, as a gay fanboy and someone who thinks about representation politics far more than the average Joe or Jane, I have mixed feelings about Garfield's ruminations. On one hand, I acknowledge that someone needs to intervene on comic book canon if we are to have anything slightly resembling diversity. Let's face facts:

there have been VERY few iconic characters who emerged after the 60s (the All-New, All-Different X-Men, Venom, and Harley Quinn are the first ones that come to mind). What that means is that most of the staples for superhero movies originated in a time where heroes were predominantly white men and (with the exception of 40s Wonder Woman and, if Dr. Wertham is to be believed, Batman and Robin) heterosexual (not to mention cisgendered). If no one intervenes, we are stuck with endless blockbusters with the diversity of 50s entertainment. Think of superhero movies up until now. Gays are non-existant and women and characters of color are often relegated to the sidelines (Lucius Fox, Pepper Potts, etc) or there's one-per-team rule (Nick Fury and Black Widow). Admittedly, the X-Men films have MUCH better gender stats, but again, that's because they draw heavily from characters which emerged in the 70s and 80s.

On the other hand, Peter Parker is very straight. In fact, he may be the straightest of superheroes. Spider-Man was the super-hero comic most defined by romantic woes - possibly the first major superhero one to focus so intently on

them. Of course, gays have romantic woes...but is being a gay teen the same as being a straight one? Is thinking we can just make Mary Jane into a guy risking universalizing the queer experience? We may live in the age of Glee and Modern Family and I'm sure things are different than when I was in high school, but I still think some things will be the same. Sure, Peter would be bullied as much as he always was, but were he queer and (more importantly) out, his bullying would probably be less likely to make him romantically unappealing to other guys (who would also be bullied) instead of how it's been so far, where he just looked weak to girls. Also, Peter would be more experienced with having secrets and a double life (even if he was out by the time he was bitten) - being Spider-Man would not equal the first time he had to have barriers between him and Aunt May.

In short, diversity is never as simple as "Just add queerness/lady parts/color." Being a minority often

entails a different experience and outlook and that should be incorporated in the character. Batman, for example, might be a great bisexual character. Bruce Wayne always wants to be dominating the headlines as luxurious and decadent - sexually fluidity might help that...and also maybe make Bruce seem more effete so no one suspects he's the uber-macho Batman. In short, some characters can be changed...and some may have a harder time.

Who cannot (without changing the character substantially)? I'd say, for starters, Captain America, Superman, and Thor, as far as gender and race goes...perhaps sexuality as well. [note of course, that there CAN be a variation on any of these characters...as long as the author is aware that they may be severely changing the mythos or some of the central character conceits]

Why? Well, for Cap, we need to consider that 1940s America would never choose a racial minority to be their icon, and that Rosie the Riveter occupied a very different spot from Uncle Sam. It'd be a white-washed history if we were to make the US government color-blind. Also...we'd lose something I always love: the irony that Cap is actually the embodiment of Hitler's Master Race.

[Granted, there is a black "Captain America" story - and an excellent one at that (Truth by Robert Morales and Kyle Baker) - but anyone who has read it knows it's not your typical Captain America story (i.e. get powers, represent the US, defeat Nazis).]

Superman is a similar story. He's the beloved of Metropolis, of everyone. Quite frankly, were a woman or a person of color to have that much power, the sad reality is that there would be more suspicion. Lex Luthor would be the norm...not the exception. Is this an interesting story here? Definitely - one that interrogate certain attitudes on race and gender and the foundations of the Superman mythos. But it's not a classic Superman story - and one that might be tougher to sell as the major, mainstream representation of the character for the decade. [However, apparently Man of Steel ends on this note, so maybe this is a moot point.] Also, I would say Lois Lane is so key here that I'd be hesistant to make Clark anything but straight.

As for Thor...yeah, I suppose he should look very Norse. And still be a dude. I'll give some precedence to mythology. Of course, Asgard isn't only white in the movie, so again, maybe a moot point.

But that leaves us LOTS of characters. And major ones at that.

A common retort though would be that fans don't want movies tampering with the characters. Hawkeye is a white guy - to make him an Indian woman or a Chicano trans-man would make him not Hawkeye. He's Clint Barton. Fandom has not been overly quick to accept these types of changes - the lukewarm reception of the Latino Blue Beetle and the now-dead Asian Atom attest to that. In short, some may ask why do Hollywood and the PC police need to mess with things?

The reality is that Hollywood messes with things all the time (to the point that, all my prior exceptions are loose at best). Joker in Dark Knight no longer had an acid-changed face but wore makeup (and thus Batman's creation of Joker was lost). Jarvis is no longer a butler but a computer program. Rogue's big crush is Iceman, not Gambit. And so forth.

Meanwhile in comics, there sometimes is not even an iconic iteration of a character. Is the definitive Flash Barry Allen or Wally West (or Jay Garrick or Bart Allen)? How about Robin: Dick Grayson or Tim Drake? In fact, we've seen Robin change genders in The Dark Knight Returns and briefly in the comics when Spoiler took over the role. Same could be said for Jon Stewart, though he often pales to the love for Hal Jordan or Kyle Rayner (but we'll soon get to why Stewart is 1000 varieties of awesome). Psylocke has managed to turn from British to Japanese without even changing her being Betsy Braddock! So maybe comic fans may be more pliable than they or others may think.

[Admittedly, part of this could point to an inherent racism/sexism/heterosexism/cisgenderism in certain areas of fandom, similar to that of the "Rue backlash" from The Hunger Games, that accept certain changes but short circuit at those of identity - particularly of major characters. But I don't want to push that argument just yet. I'll give those areas time to prove me wrong.]

[Also I should probably note that a lot of this problem stems from unconscious chauvinism - basically "write what you know." As one brave fangirl dressed as Batgirl pointed out at Comic Con in 2011 to many DC panelists, the comic world is a boy's club. Particularly, it's a straight white boy's club, despite our occasional Phil Jimenezes and Gail Simones.]

Furthermore, this has already been done, and successfully, in comics. The only reason Nick Fury is played by Samuel L Jackson in the Marvel movies is because Mark Millar and Bryan HItch reimagined him as a black man (who looked remarkably like SLJ) in the Ultimate Universe. Similarly, Wasp (sadly absent from the film Avengers) became Asian and Colossus turned gay. J Michael Straczynski's Supreme Power changes the old Squadron Supreme to essentially give us a tale of a Justice League

wherein Batman and Flash are black...and race is very much foregrounded. This choice was perfect for a retelling of Justice League that was meant to be darker and more realistic. In a series that did not shy away from the government realities in a superhero team, it only would make sense that the racial realities and tensions of superheroes should be considered. The DC Animated Universe's Justice League chose the lesser-known John Stewart (over Hal Jordan or Kyle Rayner) as Green Lantern and threw in the double wildcard of Hawkgirl - not only avoiding one of the more famous members, but even choosing her over her "man" counterpart. Stewart's race/class background and Hawkgirl's defiance of gender expectations helped make these characters arguably the two most interesting ones in the Justice League series. And Batwoman has finally returned to the DCU - now a lesbian. Diversity is not only good for politics and morality - it's good for storytelling.

[Of course, writing this made me realize how the transgendered comic fans are still being incredibly ignored in superhero representation. So my apologies for being unable to think of any mainstream success stories on that front.]

In short, if a Justice League movie comes out of the upcoming Batman/Superman film, perhaps it should have a Wonder Woman who looks more like she came from a Mediterranean Island or a Flash who looks less like the typical Wally West/Barry Allen. But also, we need to not only ask "which character can be less straight/white/male/cisgendered," but also why this character should be so and what narrative potentials are possible. Garfield is making a start of this, and I applaud him for not taking comic history as canon, but his comments do not seem to fully consider both the reality and the narrative impact of making Peter queer. Comic characters' identities should shift for diversity, but this diversity should be more than just an accoutrement or a selling point. The diversity should be diversity, not a universalization of such diversity.

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Omissions

Obvious statement: there are things to love and things to hate about the new Harry Potter movie. Some changes they made, such as the shield around the castle, were fun and even sensible. Others, such as the omission of the confrontation in the Ravenclaw Common Room and the long, drawn out fight against Voldemort at the end, were disappointing and aggravating. But what disturbs me is what happens when we line certain changes next to each other.

The changed parts under consideration:

- Hermoine speaking to Griphook
Hermoine never mentions to Griphook how she is as much an outsider to Voldemort as goblins are, as she is a Mudblood.
- Neville filling Harry & co. in as to what has happened at Hogwarts
Neville fails to mention how Muggle Studies has changed to how Muggles are inferior creatures. Furthermore, the Cruciatus Curse is used on first years instead of Muggle-born students.
- The Snape flashback
Snape’s anti-Muggle prejudice is omitted, as is his memory of calling Lily a “mudblood.” Instead of becoming a complex, flawed character who is still a bigot, he becomes another savior figure. Lily’s understandable (though tragic) choice to leave Snape is undone and instead she is a fickle girl who goes for the hot jerk. Rowling in an interview said that that was the moment where Snape lost Lily. Thus the film omitted from Snape’s past what was probably its most crucial moment.
- Dumbledore’s backstory
There is no mention of Grindelwald’s backstory, leaving us no idea how Dumbledore got the Elder Wand. Furthermore, this means that there is no mention of Grindelwald’s “Muggles are inferior” beliefs, nor can there be any allusions to Dumbledore’s love.
- Neville’s stand against Voldemort
Voldemort does not commend Neville’s status as a wizard from a pureblood family. Also, Neville gives a long speech about how Harry’s heart lives inside of everyone even if he is dead.
- Luna and Neville end up together
This addition not only is never alluded to in the books, but even goes directly against who Rowling said the two marry in interviews.

Any of these parts taken under consideration individually would seem reasonable perhaps. I might take umbrage (or even Umbridge) at the grotesque mishandling of Snape’s backstory and Neville’s Oscar speech, which was a heavy-handed waste of time that could have better been used showing Harry repairing his original wand, but whatever. However, when all of these are lined up together, we see a systematic deletion of the Pureblood agenda from the last film.

This deletion is pretty surprising, especially when one considers that this is the central ideological conflict of the book series. The final movie would make one believe that the fight is not about a pureblooded Wizard community vs. an inclusive one, but simply the Evil Wizards vs. Harry Potter (as underlined by Neville’s speech).

The bad Wizards must be exterminated so that the good ones may live. Harry never tries to reason with Voldemort. He does not try to get him to repent to save his soul. We do not even know in this version if he casts the harmless “expelliarmus” when he kills Voldemort. Harry in this version is out for blood, as are many of the “good guys.” This film is not one about tolerance; it’s one about cleaning house. It’s not a film about inclusivity; it’s about getting rid of everyone who stands in your way. Even the Malfoys don’t have a place at table in the final celebration.

Why is this film giving up Rowling’s message of tolerance, a message so prevalent in the books I used to accuse it of being heavy-handed? Because, ultimately, this film is a very conservative film. In this climate of tea-partiers running Congress and Mormon vampire tales ruling the box office, perhaps a bleeding heart film about love of those who are different is not the smartest financial strategy. Notice that the filmmakers even ensure that Dumbledore cannot be gay, since he has no one in his backstory with whom to be gay. There must not be the slightest hint of anything that could keep the red states from inflating the box office gross.

Bigotry is fine. It is not a trait of the bad guys. It’s not directed against the good, smart people like Hermione. It is not something that could lose you the love of your life. It will never try to tempt you to the wrong side by telling you that you would benefit from it. Perhaps bigotry is more than fine…perhaps it just doesn’t exist.

So what does the film leave us in its place? The compulsive, aggressive heterosexual coupling we see enforced on Neville and Luna (a single boy and a single girl can never just be friends!). And we now have a new enemy. We have the flamboyant, foppish Other, whose skin and facial structure is very different from the straight, white kids he is terrorizing. Instead of Hitler, Voldemort is everything that Hitler would decry in a frantic speech. He is a freak of nature, a sexual pervert who in a moment of near-pedophilia gets grabby with Draco Malfoy (again, not in the book!). In the final fight, he ties up Harry like a good bondage master and terrorizes the other children with his very large, very aggressive…snake.


Note how daintily Voldemort holds his wand

Thus we have Voldemort as the abject figure. The abject racial other. And the abject homosexual who endangers the future. Lee Edelman in No Future argues that:

…in the uncannily intimate connection between Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort [we see in the Child] a Symbolic resistance to the unmarried men…who embody, as Voldemort’s name makes clear, a wish, a will, or a drive toward death that entails the destruction of the Child. (Edelman 21)

Edelman wrote No Future before the final three Harry Potter books were released, three books which turned the tables, making Voldemort the one obsessed with living forever, whereas Harry underwent a thanatopsis. In the final book, we learned that no one should want to live forever, that to be a true master of Death is to accept its inevitability.

The movie however fulfills Edelman’s argument. Harry never really dies. Instead, futurity is hammered into our heads. Neville’s speech leads us to believe that even when hit with an Avada Kedavra curse, Harry still lives. Everyone carries a piece of Harry. Whereas the book had Harry “die” to protect the people of Hogwarts with his love, the film has Harry “die” only to turn every person at Hogwarts into his Horcrux. Voldemort is right; only one person can live forever. That person is Harry. The Child, the eternal enemy of the abject queer, will live forever. Any maturity he gains along the way, from his acceptance of his mortality to his tolerance of his enemies, must be forgotten, just as any of Peter Pan’s memories must be for the sake of his eternal childhood.



Thus, in the wake of the absent messages of tolerance, we see a film made with Death Eater ideology. A film of seeking eternity at the sake of others, a film of expelling everyone who is different from you, a film of victory through brute force, a film of omissions of difference and celebrations of purity. And, to the defense of the filmmakers, it worked. Through such careful planning, they offended no one. The offense is not even clear except when placed carefully against the book. Instead, everyone loves it and the film is on its way to earning enough money to warrant a rather large vault in Gringotts.