There are more LGBT characters in mainstream films than ever before, but it might be nice if they were allowed to live

Behind the Candelabra is, in some ways, a new kind of Hollywood film: a Soderbergh-directed feature with an A-list cast that was funded and distributed by cable channel HBO.  Why wouldn't the film studios touch it?  Because they thought a Liberace biopic was just "too gay" to make money.  Behind the Candelabra has so far been broadcast to 3.5m Americans, played at Cannes, received rave critical reviews and is currently enjoying a UK theatrical release.  The film's producer, Jerry Weintraub, thinks it "is going to change the film business in America". 

In regards to funding and distribution, he may be right.  But in other ways, Behind the Candelabra very much represents the perpetuation of the status quo.  It is, like Milk, The Hours, Brokeback Mountain, Black Swan, A Single Man, Monster etc, etc, a film about an lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender character who suffers and dies.  It is a film that reminds viewers that any deviancy from heterosexuality will ultimately result in death by suicide, murder or Aids. 

When Tom Hanks won an Oscar in 1993 for his role in Philadelphia (guess what happens to his character?),  the whole landscape of gay representation was supposed to change.  Here was lovable Tommy Hanks putting a human face to America's gay community, and even daring to play a man with HIV.  Oh, the compassion!  The generosity!  Uplifting gay stories will soon be everywhere, fantasised the western world's queer scene, readjusting their rainbow-dyed parachute pants.  One of the world's most famous actors was playing a gay man onscreen.  This in itself was a victory, even if the portrayal was far from ideal. 

Since Philadelphia there have been, by my count, 257 Academy Award-nominated portrayals of heterosexual characters, and 23 of gay, bisexual or transsexual characters.  Of the heterosexual characters, 16.5% (59) die.  Of the LGBT characters, 56.5% (13) die.  Of the 10 LGBT characters who live, only four get happy endings.  That's four characters in 19 years.  Behind the Candelabra won't be eligible for any Academy Awards due to its cable TV distribution, but it's keeping Oscar's kill-the-gays mentality alive and kicking.  Or rather, dying and haemorrhaging. 

Whether it's suicide, Aids (a particularly maudlin Ed Harris performance in The Hours employs both), being beaten to death, state execution, getting shot, or getting raped and then shot, LGBT characters are just not allowed the happy endings that their straight counterparts enjoy.  My personal favourite comes from A Single Man, in which Colin Firth simply drops dead for no reason.  Presumably overwhelmed by sheer homosexuality, his heart can no longer keep beating.  Beware, non-heterosexuals: Sudden Gay Death Syndrome can strike anywhere. 

Now I'm not denying that many members of the LGBT community have died too young, and I'm not being so contrary as to say that the stories of Harvey Milk, Virginia Woolf, Liberace or any other mortally challenged gays shouldn't be portrayed on screen.  Of course they should.  They lived fascinating lives and were all, in their own way, geniuses.  My point is that they are not the only stories that should be told.  TV has wised up to this, producing a diverse roster of LGBT roles, even if they are broadly telling gay stories through straight characters.  But hey, that's their audience.  At least they're letting us live. 

What I propose is Philadelphia: The Sequel.  Please stick with me.  It's to be backed by a big Hollywood studio, feature an internationally known star (note singular, I'm not getting pawned off with an ensemble piece here) and be released with a massively overbearing advertising campaign.  It tells the story of a down-on-their-luck LGBT protagonist who has an aim in life.  But in order to achieve that aim, they must overcome a series of increasingly difficult obstacles.  On overcoming these obstacles, they not only achieve their initial goal, but also become a richer, wiser and happier person in the process.  But then … wait for it … in a wild and crazy twist that the audience never sees coming … they don't die. 

You might be familiar with this character arc.  It's been afforded to basically every heterosexual character in the history of cinema ever.