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 …
