Learning on ScreenCritical Queer Studies
Critical Queer Studies: Law, Film and Fiction in Contemporary American Culture by Casey Charles (Ashgate Publishing, 2012). 191 pages. ISBN: 978-1-4094-4406-0 (hardback), £60.00
About the reviewer: Sharif Mowlabocus’ primary research interests are located at the intersection of sexuality/queer studies and digital media studies. Since 1999 his research and study has focused on LGBTQ identities and practices, with a particular emphasis on their representation within mainstream and queer online media. Based within the School of Media, Film and Music at the University of Sussex, his work draws upon cultural theory, anthropology, cultural geography and social history as well as media and communication theory.
Email: S.J.Mowlabocus@sussex.ac.uk
In Critical Queer Studies, Lawyer turned English Professor, Casey Charles, explores the relationship between screen representations of queer lives and the legal contexts that continue to define – and oppress – queer subjects in the USA today. Taking a case study approach, Charles is able to investigate different aspects of this relationship, tackling issues as diverse as Tort Law, gay marriage legislation, the homosexual panic defence and jury appointment. These legal concerns are married to, and inform, close textual readings of popular films that document the lives of LGBTQ people.
With one exception, the representations chosen focus on the biographies of real queer folk – Harvey Milk, Matthew Sheppard, Brandon Teena. Such choices allow the author to critique not only the media representation of these real life folk, but also provides a means of connecting such representations to the legal frameworks that have been applied to the lives – and particularly the deaths – of those represented. This is an innovative approach that serves the book’s argument well. It also provides a useful example of how textual analysis can be utilised beyond the Arts & Humanities.
Throughout the book, Charles draws upon Augusto Boal’s critique of Aristotelian Tragedy, in which the late Brazilian director suggests that Tragedy serves to perpetuate the status quo, rather than opening up spaces for a transformative politics. This critical lens provides the author with the ammunition required to tackle some of the issues that otherwise pro-queer texts such as The Laramie Project or Boys Don’t Cry ultimately struggle to articulate. Does the representation of queer people dying at the hands of bigots serve to force a (national) conversation about homophobic intolerance and hate crime? Or does it tacitly provide a means of reaffirming normative behaviour by rendering the queer soul, a tragic one. Charles does not force an answer to this question upon the reader, though one is left in little doubt that a critical attitude towards pro-queer representations must always be maintained.
