Characters have been half-baked, pitched for the pervy male gaze or just plain psychotic.
Let’s drudge up some fails.
There’s the likes of the kissing-for-the-boys pool scene in Wild Things; the quick dalliance before straightening up à la Marissa in The O.C.; Angelina and Winona’s simmer to a boring peck in Girl, Interrupted; or the seductress, murderous, psychopathic bisexual (who might enjoy such activities as leg-crossing in a white dress with no underwear on) in Basic Instinct.
By and large, intentions have been to entertain straight cis men—as if the entire world isn’t geared to do exactly that, most of the time—with hot girl-on-girl action in such a way that simultaneously undermines their queerness by making that part of their identity not really real at all.
Alternatively, these kinds of representations can be used to strengthen the stigma that bi people are deviants, looking for validation from wherever they can get it, and not capable or truly interested in desiring or loving the people they claim to.
These narratives work to fortify some firmly held beliefs about bisexuality, queerness and general disdain for women. And to date, they’ve done an excellent job!
Created by Desiree Akhavan, The Bisexual is a welcome drama-comedy about being bi from the perspective of a certified ‘bisexual’.
The messages are clear:
• Women are not actually into each other and while they may accidentally enjoy some of it—they’ll just do anything, even go to Wild lengths to turn guys on.
• While the character had an intense love affair with a woman and appeared to be insanely into it, it was a slip up. She was experimenting.
• Bisexual women are tourists, not to be taken seriously.
• Or unhinged women will sleep with anyone, ANYONE, (even girls) because women are crazy like that.
But things are changing, because the world is (a bit, and albeit slowly) and that’s being reflected in the bi characters on our screens in shows like Vida, Euphoria and, the series in question, The Bisexual.
Created by Desiree Akhavan, The Bisexual is a welcome drama-comedy about being bi from the perspective of a certified ‘bisexual’. Akhavan (The Miseducation of Cameron Post, Appropriate Behaviour) directs and stars in the TV series made and released in the UK because, as she points out on a panel interview for BFI, “no one in America would make it”.
The Bisexual is a story about an Iranian-American woman named Leila (Akhavan) who, having already been through the trauma of coming out to her conservative parents, has been living a fully lez life in London. And while she has done the hard yards of coming out as attracted to women, this is another tough identity journey.
“When I hear ‘bisexual,’ I think ‘slut.’ It’s tacky, it’s gauche, it seems disingenuous, that your genitals have no allegiance.”
After a botched marriage proposal in the toilets, Leila breaks up with her partner of ten years Sadie (Maxine Peake) and declares a need to be free to try new things.
So we pack our bags, following the brave gold star on a six-episode trip of self-discovery where she moves into a share-house with a one-time-novelist and lost soul Gabe (Brain Gleeson), and goes about acting on some desire that’s been lurking deep, deep down.
The familiar theme park of emotions of queer identity stories all get a guernsey—rollercoaster of hurt here, gravitron of guilt and shame there, a dunk tank of overall embarrassment (look-out for the clumsy what-do-I-even-do-with-this handjob scene). But what’s standout about The Bisexual is that it is one of the most in-depth explorations of bisexuality to grace the screen.
Through Leila, Akhavan explores her own complicated barrage of feelings about her sexuality—foremost, a loathing resentment of the bisexual label and, secondly, a struggle to accept her sexual fluidity.
“When I hear ‘bisexual,’ I think ‘slut.’ It’s tacky, it’s gauche, it seems disingenuous, that your genitals have no allegiance.”
The familiar theme park of emotions of queer identity stories all get a guernsey—rollercoaster of hurt here, gravitron of guilt and shame there, a dunk tank of overall embarrassment.
Akhavan unpacks the troublesome need for people to subscribe to one of two worlds: gay or straight. Naming the pressures bisexual people can feel to adopt and belong to either a straight or gay identity and lifestyle, depending on the gender of the person they’re dating.
“When you have to fight for it [queerness], it can become the biggest part of you. And that means a totally different lifestyle—different clothes, different friends. And you can’t do both.”
This is a break up story, a coming out story, and a more realistic depiction of how it can feel to live and love as a bi person.
It’s also very funny.
If you’re dead inside, at the very least, I promise you’ll fall in love with her staunch best friend Deniz (Saskia Chana), a partially-closeted Turkish-British lesbian, who is dry as hell and so perfectly sweet.
Characters have been half-baked, pitched for the pervy male gaze or just plain psychotic.
Let’s drudge up some fails.
There’s the likes of the kissing-for-the-boys pool scene in Wild Things; the quick dalliance before straightening up à la Marissa in The O.C.; Angelina and Winona’s simmer to a boring peck in Girl, Interrupted; or the seductress, murderous, psychopathic bisexual (who might enjoy such activities as leg-crossing in a white dress with no underwear on) in Basic Instinct.
By and large, intentions have been to entertain straight cis men—as if the entire world isn’t geared to do exactly that, most of the time—with hot girl-on-girl action in such a way that simultaneously undermines their queerness by making that part of their identity not really real at all.
Alternatively, these kinds of representations can be used to strengthen the stigma that bi people are deviants, looking for validation from wherever they can get it, and not capable or truly interested in desiring or loving the people they claim to.
These narratives work to fortify some firmly held beliefs about bisexuality, queerness and general disdain for women. And to date, they’ve done an excellent job!
Created by Desiree Akhavan, The Bisexual is a welcome drama-comedy about being bi from the perspective of a certified ‘bisexual’.
The messages are clear:
• Women are not actually into each other and while they may accidentally enjoy some of it—they’ll just do anything, even go to Wild lengths to turn guys on.
• While the character had an intense love affair with a woman and appeared to be insanely into it, it was a slip up. She was experimenting.
• Bisexual women are tourists, not to be taken seriously.
• Or unhinged women will sleep with anyone, ANYONE, (even girls) because women are crazy like that.
But things are changing, because the world is (a bit, and albeit slowly) and that’s being reflected in the bi characters on our screens in shows like Vida, Euphoria and, the series in question, The Bisexual.
Created by Desiree Akhavan, The Bisexual is a welcome drama-comedy about being bi from the perspective of a certified ‘bisexual’. Akhavan (The Miseducation of Cameron Post, Appropriate Behaviour) directs and stars in the TV series made and released in the UK because, as she points out on a panel interview for BFI, “no one in America would make it”.
The Bisexual is a story about an Iranian-American woman named Leila (Akhavan) who, having already been through the trauma of coming out to her conservative parents, has been living a fully lez life in London. And while she has done the hard yards of coming out as attracted to women, this is another tough identity journey.
“When I hear ‘bisexual,’ I think ‘slut.’ It’s tacky, it’s gauche, it seems disingenuous, that your genitals have no allegiance.”
After a botched marriage proposal in the toilets, Leila breaks up with her partner of ten years Sadie (Maxine Peake) and declares a need to be free to try new things.
So we pack our bags, following the brave gold star on a six-episode trip of self-discovery where she moves into a share-house with a one-time-novelist and lost soul Gabe (Brain Gleeson), and goes about acting on some desire that’s been lurking deep, deep down.
The familiar theme park of emotions of queer identity stories all get a guernsey—rollercoaster of hurt here, gravitron of guilt and shame there, a dunk tank of overall embarrassment (look-out for the clumsy what-do-I-even-do-with-this handjob scene). But what’s standout about The Bisexual is that it is one of the most in-depth explorations of bisexuality to grace the screen.
Through Leila, Akhavan explores her own complicated barrage of feelings about her sexuality—foremost, a loathing resentment of the bisexual label and, secondly, a struggle to accept her sexual fluidity.
“When I hear ‘bisexual,’ I think ‘slut.’ It’s tacky, it’s gauche, it seems disingenuous, that your genitals have no allegiance.”
The familiar theme park of emotions of queer identity stories all get a guernsey—rollercoaster of hurt here, gravitron of guilt and shame there, a dunk tank of overall embarrassment.
Akhavan unpacks the troublesome need for people to subscribe to one of two worlds: gay or straight. Naming the pressures bisexual people can feel to adopt and belong to either a straight or gay identity and lifestyle, depending on the gender of the person they’re dating.
“When you have to fight for it [queerness], it can become the biggest part of you. And that means a totally different lifestyle—different clothes, different friends. And you can’t do both.”
This is a break up story, a coming out story, and a more realistic depiction of how it can feel to live and love as a bi person.
It’s also very funny.
If you’re dead inside, at the very least, I promise you’ll fall in love with her staunch best friend Deniz (Saskia Chana), a partially-closeted Turkish-British lesbian, who is dry as hell and so perfectly sweet.
