The sitcom Will & Grace (1998–2006, 2017–20) shifted the media landscape and its treatment of queer themes by starring an openly gay protagonist, Will Truman, on primetime network television. Will, along with his best friend Grace Adler and their constant companions Jack McFarland and Karen Walker, engaged in many stereotypical sitcom shenanigans imbued with decidedly queer twists. Despite the series' groundbreaking nature, its accuracy and responsibility in representing gay men―and of queer culture in general―has been questioned throughout its initial run and reboot. Author Tison Pugh places the sitcom in its historical context of the late 1990s and early 2000s, considering how it contributed to contemporary debates concerning queer life. Will & Grace returned in the Trump era, offering viewers another chance to enjoy the companionship of these quirky yet relatable characters as they grappled with seismic shifts in the nation's political climate. Pugh demonstrates that while heralding a new age of queer representation, characters across the series were homogenized through upper-class whiteness to normalize queerness for a mainstream US audience. In negotiating protocols of network television and the desires of audiences both gay and straight, this trailblazing series remains simultaneously haunted by and liberated from longstanding queer stereotypes.
Tison Pugh is Associate Professor in the Department of English at the University of Central Florida. He is the author of Queering Medieval Genres and Sexuality and Its Queer Discontents in Middle English Literature and has published on children’s literature in such journals as Children’s Literature, The Lion and the Unicorn, and Marvels and Tales.
I was a big fan of this show right from the start. It was smart, it was funny, and it was fearless. The ensemble cast was perfectly in-tune with one another. The author touches upon those aspects via the introduction that outlines how the show was a queer milestone.
Then, through four chapters, Pugh further provides a scholarly analysis of several topics relating to the show's legacy. From how the show served as a queer primer for much of the country to its use of stereotypes and a utopian lens to it how the reboot was reborn in the Trump era, he takes the reader through his subjects masterfully. All the while, he pulls references directly from the eleven seasons (246 episodes) as well as dozens of other sources to support his assertions. Don't let the book's small size and page count fool you: Pugh has done his homework on this one.
i’ve been rewatching will & grace recently (excellent show, better than friends, etc.) and have finally watched the revival for the first time (aside from karen, it’s excellent, better than the last season of the original, etc.), so naturally that made me want to read a book about it. there doesn’t appear to be an oral history or the story of kind of book about it, but i did find this one. it’s quite short, but it’s a pretty good analysis of the show’s depiction of queerness in both the original run and the revival.
it explores the debate about if the show is political (“it incorporated inherently political messages into the standard structures of the sitcom.”); the topic of viewing queer representation as a “binary between absence and presence”; how the show “picks a side” so to speak regarding republican vs democrat in all the shots they take at conservatives/republicans, makes repeated references to lack of queer representation and rights, and even without depicting many same gender kisses or bedroom scenes is quite unapologetic about it’s direct and indirect references to all kinds of queer sex; discusses the absence of acknowledgement of the aids crisis (which is corrected in the revival in the episode about grace’s dad refusing will’s blood in the hospital); the show’s heteronormativity and homonormativity (not all of which i agree with); the concept of a “queer utopia”; the confusing and contradictory criticism of will and jack being “too gay” or “not gay enough”; jack’s “banal” wardrobe “tempering” his “queer flamboyance” (which is interesting, i wonder if that was the thinking behind his style); the queerness (as in blurring the lines of gay and straight) of karen and grace (the latter of which, while always overlooked, is there nonetheless); touches briefly on amatonormativity (“as will and grace largely overlook their children’s nuptials in favor of their recommitment to one another.”)
one critique i have is the way the author talks about the prioritization of will and grace’s love for and commitment to one another, which shouldn’t be surprising considering the show’s title and the creators have never hid the fact that the show is about their friendship. similar to other critiques i’ve read, the author suggests it’s heteronormative (or in the author’s words an “approximation of heteroerotic romance”) and indicative of the show’s reluctance to depict queer love to have will and grace’s relationship “upstage” a queer commitment ceremony and for them to kiss as much as they did. my issue is this is a very amatonormative reading. will and grace’s commitment to one another also “upstaged” grace and leo’s heterosexual wedding, but that isn’t mentioned, nor is the fact that platonic declarations of love “upstaging” romantic declarations of love (no matter the gender pairings) is not a pattern or problem in media.
saying will and grace’s kiss during the pilot at the bar when the patrons mistake them for a married couple “appears less a peck between friends than an amorous embrace between newlyweds” is a restrictive view of what platonic relationships can look like. sometimes friends kiss, and yes, sometimes more than a quick peck, and yes, sometimes more than once. another restrictive view is applied to will and grace’s dance and kiss during the season one finale. the author gives a flowery description of the scene: “red roses in the background that catch the gleam of grace’s earring and the crimson of her dress, leading to the rouge on her right cheek and her lips attached to will’s.” this is intentionally giving the scene a romantic reading, when in reality the scene is a goodbye between two very close friends who have decided their friendship and living arrangement is impeding their ability to have successful romantic relationships.
the depiction of a close platonic relationship that is prioritized above other relationships is not heteronormativity. will and grace might be a man and woman, respectively, but centering and valuing a platonic relationship over all others, to the point of buying a home, building a life, and raising children is not in any way part of the dominant norms of u.s. culture, nor does a platonic relationship between a gay man and straight woman even fit into the stringent conventions and privileges of heteronormativity. this is not heteronormativity, it’s a challenge to the amatonormative belief that the greatest and most important love and relationship of our lives should be romantic.
the author states the final image in the original series captured the “ambivalence” of the show’s approach to depicting queerness by having the four main characters in such a way that could be “mistaken for two straight couples.” but the fact of the matter is that will and jack are gay, standing next to women doesn’t change that. i think the bigger issue here is that even while trying to address heteronormativity, amatonormativity is being enforced through the suggestion that will and grace standing together and jack and karen standing together will automatically be read as two romantic couples (despite after eight seasons everyone and their mothers knew will and jack were gay), and the implication that will and jack would’ve been read as a romantic couple if they had been standing together and that would’ve been preferable, even though they never were a couple, because at least their sexualities were being overtly acknowledged.
content/trigger warnings; mentions or discussions of homophobia, lesbophobia, biphobia, panphobia, transphobia, coming out, aids crisis, discriminatory laws, sex, racism,