When David Duchovny reprised his role as Denise Bryson in the longtime coming return of Twin Peaks, the internet was surprisingly kind. Bryson, a trans FBI agent, was first introduced in a three episode arc in 1990 and was Duchovny's breakout role, the role that undoubtedly led to his best known Fox Mulder in the X-Files.
The Daily Beast heaped praise on the actor and the character, and her relationship with David Lynch's Agent Gordon Cole. The tables are turned. 25 years ago, Cole was Bryson's boss. Now she's Chief of Staff. Cole's interaction with Bryson is perhaps one of the new series's least Lynchian moments, and he handles it the exact way you'd expect an older agent with a heart of gold to do so, a bit awkward and straight to the point, once telling those who tried to stand in her way to "fix your hearts or die."
We should all aspire to be so direct.
Cole hasn't become more politically correct with age, and neither has Bryson. The two debate the assignment of a hot, young FBI Agent (Chrysta Bell) to a "Blue Rose" case. Bryson calls Cole out for his penchant for sexy young agents, and Cole reminds Bryson that the agency is big enough for two attractive women. It's a charming scene in a series full of bleak imagery, incest, rape, and murder. And although the frenzied internet has (for the most part) welcomed Bryson back, Twitter and social media have been every bit as reactionary as you'd expect.
"Cringe worthy" was the phrase tossed around Twitter. But if you step outside of Bryson's mahogany walled office and into the universe of Twin Peaks, her's is by far the least cringe worthy scene.
Twin Peaks is a show that has made truly unique art out of awkward sentence structure, backwards speaking, dreamscapes, and nightmares. It's full of long pauses, bizarre language, and completely implausible plot points. It is not a show set in any reality, and more a series of isolated vignettes that are likely meant to stir a mood or feeling rather than advance the story, whatever it happens to be about. The entire show is deliberately "cringe worthy."
So to read Bryson's character described as such leads one to wonder whether these viewers actually watched the first four parts in their entirety or simply fast forwarded to Bryson's scene. In the context of the entire show, Bryson's scene is mild to dull, and that's what's always made her the best representation of a trans character on television, in 1990 and today. While Bryson's gender identity is discussed in the show, it's largely incidental. Take away Cole's loud, monotonic voice and it's the real conversation you'd expect between an FBI Agent and his boss.
It's unlikely we'll ever know why Lynch chose to incorporate a trans person into Twin Peaks, but it's not hard to guess. Lynch's works are populated with the unordinary: dwarves, amputees, agoraphobics, giants. We'd all like to pat ourselves on the back and say that transgender people are just like everyone else, and they should be, but the reality is, they are not perceived to be of the ordinary by most people. Lynch also creates strong female characters who struggle against the odds. Drug addicts, rape victims, and women who fall prey to "the evil that men do" abound in Twin Peaks, and Denise Bryson, a trans field agent who climbed to a high ranking office in the testosteronal United States government is an ultimate example of this. That she's shown to have done so without relaying the heart wrenching stories of her transition gives her character the same respect of anyone in the show. Like Deputy Hawk who happens to be Native American, Denise Bryson is an FBI agent who happens to be trans.
Obviously the biggest gripe about Denise Bryson's reprisal is that she's played by David Duchovny, a cis male actor, and accusations of "trans face." I really hope that phrase dies before it takes off because it's an insult to performance art and our own intellect. Acting is about playing someone else. Maybe it's the result of being bombarded by reality TV, docudramas, and deeply personal journey stories like Transperfect, but audiences have been inflicted with the notion that characters can only be played by actors who personally identify with the role.
Only 0.3% of the country's population identify as trans, and plenty are too busy being architects, doctors, lawyers, and teachers to gratuitously play a trans character simply because of how they identify.
If an actor can superficially pass for the character that's needed, the best capable actor will do. That's acting. Gay men and lesbians play straight roles and vice versa, Italians play Greeks, Christians play Muslims. When you're crafting performance art, you want the best talent for the job. And when you're casting a trans character, you can't cast Laverne Cox or Jamie Clayton in everything. In fact, doing so would demean the abilities of talented trans actors capable of playing cis characters too. Expecting trans characters only to be played by trans actors turns those roles into superficial cliches.
Denise Bryson is a compassionate portrayal of a trans woman in a series with a love/hate relationship with compassion for anyone, especially women. Twin Peaks is a surrealist hell-scape of good versus evil, and an unconventional piece of outsider art. It doesn't exist in our universe, literally or figuratively, and to try to make sense of it in the context of our own social rules and expectations is to go looking for trouble. As an unabashed Lynchian and Peaks Freak, my opinions are entirely biased, but I'm thrilled that Duchovny returned as Denise Bryson as more than just tokenism or fan indulgence. She's back and she's relevant. But if you try to dissect Bryson's character or Lynch's directorial choice to recast Duchovny, you need to actually watch the series. Twin Peaks is a world of nonsensical demons, and if you use logic to pick apart every character, or the show itself, you'll fall down a rabbit hole of maddening frustration.
"It's not about the bunny," and if anyone doesn't get that, they need to shut up about a show they clearly never bothered to watch.
Earlier this year, a Change.org petition to "Drop the T" began circulating around social media. The response was brutal, and rightfully so. The petition itself reeks of Log Cabin rhetoric and reactionary politics.
"Drop the T" refers to the transgender community's role in the LGBT community and attempts to address an apparent rift between sexual orientation and gender identity.
The verbiage is crude, and obviously comes from a less than compassionate place, but the idea of separating the T from the LGB does have a certain amount of objective credibility.
In the historical context of our community, we banded together at one time as sexual misfits. In the '60s and '70s there wasn't a lot of delineation between gender expression and those who engaged in same-sex intercourse. We sought solace in our collective differences by arranging gatherings and political rallies from the dimly lit bars and private clubs that accepted us.
But things have changed.
There are plenty of transgender individuals, as well as LGB ones, who have proven over and over that we don't share a broad enough range of political opinions to remain under one tent in 2015. Most notable might be Caitlyn Jenner, who's conservative opinions have drawn ire from LGBT advocacy groups.
However, Jenner's viewpoints, as disturbing as they may be to veterans of the LGBT rights movement, may be emblematic proof that the transgender community is experiencing its own evolution. Like changes the LGB community experienced in the late '70s and early '80s, when we shifted from free-love to picket fences, transgender people like Jenner are expressing individuality that deviates from our all-encompassing umbrella, and it shouldn't come as a shock.
Our older transgender friends came to terms with their identities in gay bars and Gayborhood community centers, and that bonded us. But Jenner came into her own with the support of her family and broadcasted it to the world. Whether or not you think she's a role model or a deplorable conservative, we can expect more of the same: transgender men and women who come out outside any traditional notion of the "gay community," and they're not going to be aligned with our causes by default.
This isn't a callous assessment, it's Cultural Anthropology 101. In fact, this petition expresses a reality, just from the wrong vantage point. Sexual orientation and gender identity deserve their own unique platforms, but most notably because this social conglomerate does a disservice to the transgender community by putting them on the back burner in lieu of the more socially accepted LGBs.
Groups like GLAAD and the HRC can continue to support the transgender community even if they decide to establish their own proprietary platforms, much the way many liberal lobby groups support each other. The transgender community could be more successful by isolating their own unique causes, challenges, and fights from their own podium instead of waiting for the LGBs to tackle our own first.
As a gay man, I'm proudly supportive of transgender rights, as I am ethnic and religious minorities. But like ethnic and religious minorities, I don't share the same specific prejudices and discriminations and will never personally understand what a transgender person deals with the way I understand my fellow LGBs.
It's possible for us to be an empathetic LGB community - a mark this petition sorely misses - without leading the transgender fight for them by affixing a letter to the end of our acronym. There seems to be a lot of knee-jerk hatred for the transgender community and nearly as much blind support in response to this petition, but none of that will change until both communities align ourselves in the most practical way.
Step back and look at it with objectivity. Why wouldn't either community want to put ourselves in the best position possible for both of our futures? Perhaps focusing on our own unique struggles from our own unique camps would be the best way for us all to come together.
Whether you think Caitlyn Jenner is a hero or just another media whore, owning a week of the internet has created a dialogue. And it's a dialogue that has been surprisingly supportive. But a similar story broke last week, and its timing couldn't be worse for the transgendered community. The only thing, it isn't similar in any way.
I'm talking, of course, about Rachel Dolezal, the President of the Spokane chapter of the NAACP who's been "passing" as black for the last decade. The sympathetic arm of the internet has already started praising her as "transracial," or someone who internally identifies with another race, and begun comparing Dolezal's journey to Jenner's. If you're a South Park fan, you probably thought about Kyle's transition into a tall, black basketball player and his father's into a dolphin.
As laughable as the subject should be, they've been taken under serious consideration by legitimate organizations. The difference between Jenner's journey and Dolezal's is that Dolezal's journey was one of deception full of stereotypical appropriations.
With overnight fascination surrounding the transgendered community, others have hijacked the prefix to demand the same respect. And it doesn't stop at the "transracial." Perhaps the most disturbing are the "transabled." You may remember the Taboo episode about Chloe Jennings-White, an able-bodied woman who uses a wheelchair because she believes she's disabled. She isn't suffering from conversion disorder, a legitimate form of hysterical paralysis, either. She can walk. Others have staged accidents to lose limbs or deliberately induced blindness.
While these disturbed individuals do deserve psychological study, they don't deserve a sympathetic paring with the transgendered. In doing so, psychologists are dumbing down the field by ignoring the foundations of science, foundations rooted in cold hard facts.
In science - hard science - the most obvious theory is often the right one, and always the first to be explored. But here - in soft science - sensitivity has become a variable that influences the study. With regard to the "transabled" or "transracial," the most obvious theoretical cause would simply be a cry for attention. These people see the respect bestowed upon the disabled or the tremendous perseverance of the racially marginalized and, in short, want a piece of the action.
By acknowledging "transability" or "transrace" as a unique condition befitting a psychological label, the field of psychology is taking a Creationist approach to science: seeking facts to support a baselessly pre-drawn conclusion. Ironically, allowing sympathy to trump science with regard to the "transabled" or "transracial" fosters a culture that demeans the truly disabled and racially disadvantaged. It sympathizes with the privileged.
It may be knee-jerk, even easy, to draw a parallel between the transgendered and these dubious "trans" causes, but the transgendered who've come to terms with their identities are living honest lives. Legitimizing the "transabled" and "transracial" allows these people to live lies and usurp resources meant for those born or faced without an alternative.
Obviously, the transgendered community, the disabled, and ethnic minorities have espoused outrage against the self-assigned disadvantaged. Perhaps these fringe movements are a sign that First World privilege has reached its cultural threshold, wherein some people are so bored with the luxury of walking, sight, or being white that they seek stimulation by fabricating discourse.
Whatever the cause, whether these individuals have body dysmorphic disorders or simply want attention, legitimizing their conditions by rewriting psychology's Bible, the DSM-5, will only serve to delegitimize the entire field of psychology. There is cause for sympathy in the soft sciences where subjects are concerned, but sympathy is not a variable in the lab. Logic has been lost by an overwhelming call to coddle everyone's innermost quirk. As we charge towards greater equality for our once-most disadvantaged and marginalized, able-bodied white people have once again proven that they can make anything about themselves.
Philadelphia just keeps getting gayer, and that's a great thing.
Last weekend, Lou Cutler was "crowned" Mr. Gay Philadelphia. Why's that astounding? Cutler is transgender. In fact, he's the first trans man to hold such a title.
Congrats, Lou, keep on being who you are!
