Not all actors are

gay; but a lot of them are. When I was artistic director of Buddies in Bad Times Theatre many years ago this presented a huge dilemma for the theatre community. So many actors are in the closet — or straight and fearful of being thought gay — that the existence of a ‘gay theatre’ put all their lives — and livelihoods — in jeopardy. Everybody knew this but nobody would talk about it. The closest I got to hearing anybody talk about this was when Eric Peterson said to me — at a Canada Council meeting — “You know most people  have to wear a paper bag over their head when thet go to Buddies.” He didn’t mean it in a nasty way — quite the opposite — he was just commenting on the homophobia in the gay community at that time. Things have not significantly changed. It’s still news when a movie actor comes out, and their careers inevitably wither — men like Matt Bomer and Alan Cumming. Buddies will probably not be a gay and lesbian theatre much longer, but the issues around gay men and acting still persist. All gay men are actors; that’s why we are so suited to the profession. Women and gay men have this in common — we must perform, it is incumbent on us, a social pressure which we could bemoan, but we often instead just cheerfully appropriate and have fun with, because our behaviour is always scrutinised. Straight men are not scrutinised (except when it comes to #MeToo). No one cares how they look -- they can be as fat and rude and mean as they like, and society says ‘oh they’re just being guys.’ Women have to worry about the word getting around that they are sluts, and they must monitor their physical appearance in order to get approval from (it seems to me) other women. Have you seen the commercial with the woman who just finished another weight loss plan marching into a hair salon? She removes her mask and another woman releases an astonished — ‘Sarah!’ —  in shock and awe at her friend’s transformation. (Why in these ‘trying times’ is a woman removing her mask upon entering a hairdressing salon? —  the COVID-19 police will have to deal with that.) The point is this woman has lost weight to get a reaction from other women, not men. Gay men are much the same, only different. If they are masculine then they must perform their masculinity in order to get approval from straight men, and if they are evidently feminine and gay, there is a tendency to give in to being 'fay as the day.' I mean why not? Why not be what you are, if the jig is up? Hence the over-the-top ‘Nelly Queen’ who flaunts his femininity. No one ever talks about why so many gay men are actors — it’s clear that we learned it at our mother’s tit — even back then we had to act like that tit was turning us on, not merely facilitating feeding. It’s a heavy burden to bear. (A young gay man said to me a couple of years ago - 'Do you notice how gay men get gayer when they get in a gay bar?’ Why yes, I do.) When did this performance become so important to us? It all started with the 19th century ‘flaneur' — a poetical dandy who paraded  the city streets proclaiming his aestheticism through a rarefied manner and a singular attention to dress. The dandy was allowed to act in this somewhat suspicious manner because his purpose was to attract women with his peacock plumage. The ‘fop' was the gay iteration of the dandy — though  obsessed with his appearance, he was somewhat less successful with women, and thus assumed to be superficial. Enter the 20th century gay man. Like the fop he lacks the ability to successfully procreate.  He is, and always will be, as we all know — useless. For  men were put on earth to begat. And though yes technically speaking the law now allows us to adopt, we can do nothing with our own sperm but spill it, ultimately, on the ground, or into a turkey baster. Oscar Wilde owned this ‘uselessness,’ proclaiming that nothing of any value was ever useful, worrying instead whether or not he had lived up to his blue china. Gay, effeminate men who flounce and mince and sulk are enjoying their womanishness to the utmost. Why? Because they can. Drag is nice, but it's a concrete disguise, and it makes it easier for straights to deal with us, because the reason why we are attracted to penises and male backsides must therefore be because we were probably really just women all along. As much as I adore drag -- being an effeminate man (or a masculine woman) is much more revolutionary, and certainly rocks gender more than any ‘trans’ person could ever imagine. Being trans, like drag, has become socially acceptable, probably because people can imagine it’s all about gender, not sex. But gay men are defined by sex. Speaking of which, the COVID lock down has been particularly hard on us gay men. It's not only that we are much less likely to pick up anyone outside of our homes (or at least it is nearly impossible in winter) — but much much more importantly — we are not able to display our wares -- and ultimately, our strange and alluring identity, as men who like to take it up the bum. Straight people are fine -- they can sit at home, identity be damned. But gay men need to get out of doors  to fully actualize who they are. They are not real to themselves or anyone else without the mirror that is the admiration -- or the scorn -- of others. Whichever we get — well it doesn’t matter really; we just need to endlessly confirm our identity as cocksuckers and bum worshippers,  period. Last night I actually managed to have sex sort of outside — with a stranger, in an apartment stairwell— quite high up, just below the 9th floor. It took me back to the good old days of oppression, which I never actually experienced (as I came out in 1981) but which I have heard many colourful tales of. There is and always will be something terribly attractive about doing it where you are not supposed to. I loved kissing him,  and he was very naive and sweet about the whole thing. I know that for some, sex in a stairwell may seem the opposite of sweet; but that just means, my dear, that you have never lived.