Do Women Treat Their “Gay Friend” Like an Accessory?

Discussing films like The Green Mile or The Matrix, director Spike Lee (The 25th Hour, Do the Right Thing) argued that a troubling trope was emerging in American cinema. Lee argued that African-American actors were too often portrayed as “Super-Duper Magical Negroes” who existed only to serve the white, male protagonist. It’s hard to argue with Lee’s assessment, particularly with The Green Mile in which the gentle giant figure of Michael Clarke Duncan magically cures Tom Hanks’s bladder infection, but can’t save himself from the electric chair.

The admittedly less extreme version for female protagonists is the “Gay Best Friend” — the sassy, encouraging and ever-gleeful companion every girl dreams of: they can talk about boys and clothes without any of the jealousy or competition that might come from a female friend.

The problem with the “gay friend” trope is that, like the Magical Negro, there’s a point at which the character becomes more of a cartoon than a real person. The “gay friend” rarely seems to have any concerns of his own: he’s a shoppin’, show tune singin’ ball of sunshine/crying shoulder. Sure, every now and then they’ll throw in a sad storyline where some jock …

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Sex and the City … and You!

photo of sex and the city poster

With the recent release of the second Sex and the City film, I thought it would be interesting to consider these fictionalized women … and, like it or not, their place as role models.  They all exhibit traits that everyday women can relate to, and it’s really pretty cool (almost like one of those personality tests) to contemplate which you most identify with (or are attracted to, if you’re interested in dating women).

Carrie Bradshaw (played by Sarah Jessica Parker) is a writer, most notably as a newspaper columnist, and fashionista (let’s all say “Manolo Blahniks,” now).  Her exterior appearance hides someone who cares far less about her home than she does about her shoes.  While her relationships are depicted in her column “Sex and the City” (creative name, that), she is ultimately unable to avoid the infamous “Mr. Big,” who seems to come into her life just when she needs him—and often when she doesn’t.

I can actually relate a lot to Carrie.  There’s the whole writing thing, natch, and I have my own Mr. Big.  You spend  so much time agonizing on whether he’s your soul mate and if that concept even really exists and blah blah blah.  And then, just when you’ve given him up as a lost cause, there he freaking is again.  It’s crazy!

Kim Cattrall’s Samantha Jones, on the other hand, is far more in-your-face.  She’s strong-willed and entrenched in the business world.  Samantha refers to herself as a “try-sexual” and clearly does not share Carrie’s angst over the soul mate thing since she’s more interested in sex itself than the bells and whistles (and balls and chains) that can potentially go along with it.  She is diagnosed with cancer when she goes to get breast implants and experiences many of the menopausal issues that women do.  Basically, she’s the quintessential cougar.
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