On “Bury Your Gays” (and Why You Shouldn’t be Mad at Mike Flanagan)
By: Logan Ashley
Tags: LGBTQ, TV Series, Film, Horror, LGBT

Representation in horror is, in many ways, a double-edged sword. Because death and violence is a key aspect of any horror property. If you have a typical slasher with a diverse cast, then the formula of the film dictates that a large portion of those characters are going to have to die.

As previously stated, horror is not excluded from these conversations about representation, but it is certainly a less mainstream aspect of it. Which is funny, considering that one of horror’s most famous staples is the twist of the male killer being disguised as a woman, and how that coding has had an impact on the real lives of trans women (for more on this, I wrote about it extensively here). Horror originated the “black character dies first” trope. Horror is problematic in a wide variety of ways, but what makes it perhaps different from other genres is that horror is pre-marketed as the genre for misfits; the genre that will portray things that more mainstream films won’t touch for ages more.

Especially within horror, death is a staple, its inevitable. Ever since its inception, horror has been exploring every possible way to murder, maim, and psychologically torture the characters within its films. With some very rare exceptions, there’s no way for you to make a horror film without some character deaths.

What matters, I think, is the overall makeup of the characters that populate the genre. Deaths of marginalized characters sting so much because we’re aware that the genre is dominated by white, straight characters, white stories and voices. It can be incredibly frustrating to go into a piece of media for representation and to be given an awful death at the end of it all. Especially if that death is directly related to or as a result of their race/gender/sexuality.

Perhaps aware of this double-edged sword, filmmakers have recently gotten more creative in regards to giving representation and still delivering a satisfactory horror film. The best example that comes to mind is Us, where the concept of each family having a “tethered” version allows for our main characters to live and to die all at once. Every main character dies, and yet none of them do.

Lupita Nyong’o as Adelaide/Red, Us (2019)

The point of this all being: seeking representation in horror is not an unreasonable request. We’re sorely lacking in both black and brown survivors and killers, in LGBT characters, in creators who aren’t white edgelords a la Eli Roth. One of the main reasons I finally started taking (baby) steps to becoming a screenwriter is because I want to see more films that represent me and what I want to see done with the genre.

That all being said, our enemies are not things like Haunting of Bly Manor. Our enemies, if we can be said to have one, are not earnest portrayals of a lesbian romance that happen to end in tragedy. There is nothing in Dani’s death to suggest it is a punishment for her sexuality, nor is there anything to suggest that her fate would’ve been different had she been straight. Her death is intentional, both in the world of the story and in the sense that it was planned and written likely from the beginning. It’s not like most instances of “bury your gays”, where the death comes out of nowhere with little to no foreshadowing.

Mike Flanagan is not a creator who deserves your ire in regards to his lesbian characters. I’m always pro- creators representing themselves, I’m pro- lesbians telling lesbian stories the same way I want anyone to get to tell their authentic stories. But that doesn’t mean that I think people should be limited to only telling their stories. If a person can do a story justice and do it respectfully, I think they should do it. Brokeback Mountain is one of my favorite films of all time, and it was originally written by a straight woman, and adapted further by straight people. And it works because everybody involved did their homework and fought to represent the queer Midwest.

Tldr; Flanagan does not deserve immediate ire for including lesbians in his story in the first place. And he does not deserve ire for killing Dani off, because the death of a gay character does not immediately mean a piece of media perpetuates the “bury your gays trope”. Much like queerbaiting, I think it’s all about creator intent.

Just as queerbaiting isn’t “these two gay people didn’t get together”, to bury your gays is not “this gay character died”. There is nuance, and there are factors to be considered.

I think that it’s obvious Flanagan has love for every character he brings his writing to, and that’s never been more clear than in his Haunting series. In most instances of “bury your gays”, the character is unceremoniously killed, and forgotten about quickly thereafter. Dani is never forgotten by Bly Manor.

Plus, did everyone just forget about Jamie? While Dani dies, Jamie survives the whole thing, and importantly to this point, survives to keep telling the story of her and Dani and how love was the point of it all. Both Dani and Jamie are well aware that Dani will die; though they manage to live happily together for longer than expected, there’s never any effort to fool the audience into thinking that Dani won’t die.

There is nothing within this show to suggest Flanagan buried his gays. Yes, representation is messy, and nowhere else more so than in horror films where death is expected, but the answer isn’t to expect immortality. The answer to the representation problem is to have more characters, not to expect those we do have to never die.

Nuance is the word of the day. Bly Manor is a great series, but is unfortunately indicative of how modern discourse is so black and white. Critique is fine, but the critiques have to make sense with what the text actually says.

To slam Bly Manor for “burying its gays” is to critique it for conforming to a trope that it does not use! I promise that there are plenty of films and television shows that still use such tropes, but this was not one of them. Rather than “burying its gays”, Bly Manor is instead a completely earnest portrayal of lesbian love in the midst of a haunted house story, and how even in death, love conquers all.

Be critical of the media you consume, but be wise in your criticism. Else we continue to group in good, genuine representation with the shlock that “bury your gays” and “queerbaiting” is meant to identify. And that helps no one.