In an interaction with Maureen Dowd, it was suggested that Sean Penn didn’t unequivocally state that heterosexual actors are now forbidden from portraying homosexual characters. Reflecting on his award-winning portrayal of Harvey Milk – a trailblazing gay politician who was assassinated by a bitter ex-coworker in 1978 – in Gus Van Sant’s 2008 film Milk, Penn doubted whether he would be permitted to reprise such a role in the current times.
“No, I don’t believe so,” he responded, suggesting that today’s societal climate wasn’t conducive for such a casting choice. He said, “We’re living in a period of significant immoderation. The approach to human creativity has become timid and devoid of artistry”. His vigorous facial rubbing on sets was his way of expressing his feelings on the matter.
Truth be told, Penn merely questioned the probability of being knighted for that specific gay character, leading to speculation among numerous onlookers who listed several heterosexual actors who had successfully played LGBT+ roles recently. Examples include Ethan Hawke (in Strange Way of Life), Josh O’Connor (in God’s Own Country), Sterling K Brown (in American Fiction), Nicholas Galitzine (in Red, White & Royal Blue) and Paul Mescal (in All of Us Strangers).
Does the entertainment industry remain nonchalant about such castings? Do we simplistically remark “that’s what they call ‘acting’, after all” and brush it off? Andrew Haigh, the director of All of Us Strangers, views the predicament as more intricate. He deliberated over his choice of casting Andrew Scott, a gay actor, as the main character and Mescal, a heterosexual actor, as the romantic counterpart.
The evolution in identity politics is still a topic of extensive negotiation. During Milk’s time, this discourse was just starting to spiral, but half a century back, even hinting at such a question would have seemed ludicrous.
“He explained, “I wanted a gay actor for the main role because I felt it was necessary to fully explore the richness of the story. I did not see the sense in not casting an actor who was not homosexual. However, for Harry’s supporting role, I did not place as much emphasis on this aspect. It was more about believing in the chemistry between the characters.”
This viewpoint is likely to disappoint those who believe in a clear cut rule — that either straight actors should never be cast in gay roles or that this should never be considered a problem — a supposed dilemma. In reality, life is seldom that simple. It appears more fitting nowadays for a gay actor to portray significant LGBT+ figures such as Harvey Milk or Bayard Rustin, recently brought to life by Oscar nominee Colman Domingo. But, obviously, it’s still acting.
Young actors like Galitzine, who played a homosexual rugby player in John Butler’s 2016 comedy Handsome Devil, are well-versed in these debates. He has openly expressed his discomfort, admitting earlier this year, “I’ve sometimes felt unsure about whether I’m infringing on someone’s space and felt guilty. However, I also perceive these characters as more than their sexuality.”
No one is being asked to discard classics like My Left Foot or Lawrence of Arabia. Even if our approach to them may change, these works remain excellent.
We are still navigating a major shift in identity politics. During the era of Milk, these dialogues were just beginning to emerge. Five decades ago, this topic would have seemed ludicrous. Directors like David Lean had no qualms about using makeup on white actors like Alec Guinness to play characters of different ethnicities in films such as Lawrence of Arabia and A Passage to India. Some fortunate actors have been cast as a wide array of ethnicities. For example, Russian-American actor Yul Brynner played characters of various nationalities, and Anthony Quinn, of Mexican-Irish heritage, portrayed an array of ethnic characters, with the exception of a high-ranking Wasp.”
It appears that outside of the disabled community, few seemed to raise eyebrows when non-disabled actors portrayed disabilities such as cerebral palsy, intellectual impairments, or what was formerly referred to as a hunchback. Nonetheless, when it was time for the TV adaptation of CJ Samsom’s highly-praised Shardlake series – which tells the story of a detective lawyer with a disability in Tudor England – a disabled actor was indeed sought. Layered debates exist. Arthur Hughes, celebrated for his recent performance as Richard III for the RSC, does not have scoliosis, the current term for Shardlake’s condition (and that of Shakespeare’s murderous monarch); he was instead born with radial dysplasia – a condition leading to a shorter right arm. Nevertheless, he felt a psychological resonance with the role. “There’s always an anticipation of how any interaction is going to play out”, he expressed to Yahoo! earlier this year, adding, “I believe every disabled person experiences this.”
Nobody is suggesting the destruction of film classics like My Left Foot or Lawrence of Arabia. The quality of the work stands, even if present perspective might be more enlightened. The present adaptable approach indicates a maturity in the entertainment world in at least one aspect. This maturity recognises the nuances previously neglected. It also accepts that in the complex domain of art – especially pertaining to depictions of disability – unbending, rigid rules are hardly satisfactory. Despite this, those passionately engaging in PennGate may not be readily appeased.