GLR Review March-April 2019

discovered my niche very early in my ca- reer. I was always at my best when I was playing a character that clearly had some- thing wrong with them. Those characters rarely ever had girlfriends (or boyfriends, or any kind of love life), so I never had to worry much about hiding who I was. The screenwriting business was a little different. It was ridiculously competitive, and there was a lot of testosterone fueling pretty much every decision. Fortunately, the movies I wrote were mostly smaller budget, character-based films, so I wasn’t dealing much with ultra-macho directors or produc- ers. My scripts were smart and funny and, as long as the actors were happy, nobody cared who wrote them. I will say that in the olden times, the prevailing notion was that if you were openly gay and wanted to stay steadily employed, you had to make sure that the heterosexuals in the room weren’t uncomfortable, so a lot of us did stupid things like cross our legs at the ankle in- stead of the knee and try not to wave our hands around a lot while talking. That all seems really laughable to me now. Some of the most successful creatives in television and film are openly gay. CF: In your book, you talk about a lot about the psychology of acting. Did you know that before “the closet” the operative metaphor was “the mask”? You were a queer kid growing up in Kentucky; does the mask image resonate for you? DDB: Speaking as the son of a small-town Evangelical minister, I can say I put my mask on pretty early. When I look at photos of myself as a kid, I feel bad for that little boy. It’s rough when you realize your fa- vorite toys are the ones that belong to your sister, but the only time you can play with them is when no one is around. My mask stayed on until my college girlfriend discov- ered I was having an affair with another guy. That was a rough patch for me (and for my ex-girlfriend and for my family), but it was also like that moment it in The Wizard of Oz when the world is transformed from black and white to color. I fell in love with a sweet boy with a hairy chest. And I fell in love with my life. CF: At one point in the memoir you de- clare, “I was going to be me—not Sean Penn.” That realization was a huge turning point for you, no? DDB: Yes, that moment was huge for me as both an artist and a gay human being. A few years ago, I started teaching. It’s been a re- markable experience, and I’ve truly loved it. One of the things I try to stress with young actors is the importance of taking whatever you perceive as a flaw—whatever you are secretly uncomfortable with—your height, your weight, your nose, your hair, your skin, your background—and remind your- self daily that “flaws” are your greatest as- sets. Being an actor means transforming ourselves, but it doesn’t mean hiding who we truly are. Our humanity, our pain, our faults, our courage are all part of the essen- tial clay out of which we’re going to fashion some kind of art. Until you know who you are (and are okay with that), it’s hard to cre- ate anything good. CF: Your book is primarily for actors, but I found it highly relatable for me as a teacher. I especially like what you say near the end: “I wrote this book so I could cheer all of you on from the sidelines.” DDB: It’s funny. My copy editor said she really enjoyed the book because it spoke to her experience as a freelancer. Who knows? Maybe it will find an unexpected audience. I have discovered over time that ambition and accomplishment will only get me so far. If I’m only interested in myself and my de- sires, if I’m always avoiding the inconven- ience created by other people, I’m missing some of the best stuff life has to offer. I’m currently in a truly wonderful relationship with a terrific man. What makes it great is that both parties seem to understand that the word “care” should always be a verb. We’re living through a great chapter together. My students have also taught me a lot. It true, when you give, you receive. CF: Finally, you write about where you find yourself now in a very level-headed and in- spiring way. What more can you say about where you find yourself now? DDB: Show business is constantly produc- ing shiny objects that appear to be just out of reach. It never ends. Although I didn’t al- ways feel this way, I now feel lucky to have been born gay in Kentucky. It forced me to educate myself and develop life skills like humor, curiosity, courage, and compas- sion—all of which made me a better artist and a better man. Whatever cards you’ve been dealt in this life, I believe discovering and using your creative impulses are the surest way to heal yourself. The most fa- mous and successful people I know have said to me, “I’m grateful for what happened, but I didn’t get what I wanted.” I had no idea what that meant when I was a young man, but I sure understand it now. You can plot and plan all you want, but in the end, all you have is today, so you’d best carpe the hell out of that diem and try to be proud of your efforts. It’s important to absorb what’s going on around you and then contribute something new to that. To live fully is the greatest accomplishment there is. Chris Freeman teaches at UCLA. His next book, Isherwood in Transit , is forthcoming from the University of Minnesota Press. Is Born , Gaga is a pop star playing a pop star, which is no more of a stretch than diva Madonna playing diva Eva Perón in Evita . Is there anything especially queer about A Star Is Born ? Not particularly, aside from the fact that Jackson first encounters Ally after stumbling into a gay bar on drag night. He has come straight from a concert and craves just one (or five) more drinks. A bad romance ensues. Cooper, in his directorial debut, cast many of the drag queens he knew from Philadelphia. Ally is the only biological female who’s allowed to take the stage (where she sings “La Vie en Rose”). If A Star Is Born is a vehicle for its leading lady, this isn’t the first time. Janet Gaynor originated the role in 1937 (with costar Frederic March), followed by Judy Garland in 1954 (James Mason) and Barbra Streisand in 1976 (Kris Kristofferson). In the third version, Kristofferson is as- toundingly flat and far less sympathetic than Cooper’s Jackson, who, in a full tailspin mode, crashes an awards ceremony when Ally is onstage, falls over drunk, and pees his pants. Kristof- ferson uses vodka as a hand sanitizer and says things like “Let’s go boogie!” Clearly it was time for an update. The film’s success could not come at a better time for Lady Gaga, whose star has dimmed a bit in recent years. Since her debut ten years ago, she has won six Grammys and one Golden Globe, and knocked ’em dead at the Super Bowl. Yet the third of her five studio albums, 2013’s “Artpop,” was dubbed “Art Flop” by music critics, and a hip injury and subsequent surgery left her debilitated. Last year’s documentary Gaga: Five Foot Two provided fans with a behind-the-scenes look at her break- up with actor Taylor Kinney and her ongoing defense of LGBT rights via the Born This Way Foundation, which she founded with her mother. All told, Gaga has safely secured her status in a pantheon that includes such icons as Garland and Streisand and, for that matter, one Freddie Mercury of Queen.   