Blogging Broadway: "13"'s fagmos and "Spring Awakening's" gay scene

A scene from 13 (Photo credit: Joan Marcus) 

Editor's note: Starting today, our theater critic Michael Portantiere will be blogging regularly about Broadway and Off-Broadway shows as well as other items of theatrical interest.

Broadway is one of the last places where you’d expect to find any sort of homophobia. But since the theater deals with every conceivable sort of life situation, and since producers and artists can’t control audience reaction to gay (or supposedly gay) characters and subject matter, there are occasions when the inclusion of certain words and situations in shows makes some people very uncomfortable.

If a show depicts homophobic behavior by characters who aren’t clearly characterized as villains, is that wrong? In a related question: Is it acceptable to present “comic” scenes of gay intimacy that result in gasps, groans, and/or nervous laughter from the audience, especially when young performers and audiences are involved?

These questions are begged by two musicals now on Broadway, 13 and Spring Awakening. The former just opened, whereas the latter has been playing at the Eugene O’Neill Theatre since December 2006, following its initial Off-Broadway run at the Atlantic Theatre Company.

Graham Phillips in 13

Photo credit: Joan Marcus

A source of controversy in 13 during previews was the colorful insult “fagmo,” which had been used by the popular jock Brett (Eric M. Nelsen) and his minions to deride the central character, Evan (Graham Phillips). A combo of “fag” and “homo,” the word was cut before the show opened. Apparently, some audience members – as well as a few theater industry people – were upset by its use because it perpetuates the idea that the most hurtful thing kids can do is imply that one of their number is gay. (Among kids, “fag” doesn’t always mean “homosexual”; it often means “lame” or “totally uncool.” But it’s never a compliment.)

Robert Horn, co-author of 13, told me recently that he made up “fagmo,” though it certainly sounds like an authentic middle-school insult. Horn confirmed that a lot of material was cut from the show during previews to bring it down to its current 90-minute length; he said he had received a list of suggestions of cuts and changes from various people involved in the production, but he insists it was his own decision to excise “fagmo” This led to an interesting discussion of homophobia and perceived homophobia. I got the impression that, when all was said and done, Horn didn’t feel it essential to keep the word if it was going to upset people who would otherwise love the show.

There’s another moment in 13 that could have been very dicey, but as far as I’m concerned, discomfort has been avoided through skillful direction: Two of the boys end up at the movies with the same girl, who’s sitting between them. When the guys close their eyes and lean in to tongue-kiss the young lady, she moves away at the last moment, and they end up making out with each other. This is staged in such a brilliantly hilarious way, with slow-motion and strobe lighting, that even the most vociferous laughter and shouts from the audience seem appropriate.

Gideon Glick and Jonathan B. Wright in the original Broadway cast of Spring Awakening

By way of comparison, let’s take a look at the “gay scene” in Spring Awakening, the contemporary rock musical based on Frank Wedekind’s late-19th century drama about clueless teenagers in lust. In the Wedekind play, there’s a sweet, funny, moving scene in which the young students Hanschen and Ernst connect emotionally and physically. While Steven Sater’s adaptation of this scene for the musical hews closely to the original in terms of the text, the onstage encounter was directed by Michael Mayer to be played in such an over-the-top comedic way that it has become a broadly comic seduction scene, marked by coolly calculated moves on the part of the seducer and pop-eyed skittishness from his prey.

We may never know for sure why this scene has been handled in this manner, but I have a guess. Although I don’t remember any gasping, groaning, or inappropriate laughs when I saw Spring Awakening at a critics’ performance early on at the Atlantic, I imagine that the moment in question began to elicit unwanted vocal reactions when performed before general audiences — including young people — later in the Off-Broadway run and during Broadway previews. Mayer probably decided to ramp up the comedy of the scene as a pre-emptive strike: You know, “If we play this in such a way that it’s obvious we WANT the audience to laugh, it won’t be jarring when they do.”

One can understand the impulse, but it brings us back to the questions raised at the top of this commentary. I’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts.