The Evil Bisexual. The sociopath, the murderer, the confused, depraved, violent bisexual we all know and hate to hate. Catherine Tramell of Basic Instinct; the evil mirror universe bisexuals of Star Trek; Tony Stonem of Skins. For decades the Evil Bisexual has taken centre stage of bi representation in television and film. And while they might maintain a strong foothold in the media (Star Trek: Discovery, how could you?), they’re having to make way for new bisexual tropes ready to populate the roaring 2020s. The two new primary categories of the Bisexual Other are the Magical Bisexual and the Hedonistic Bisexual.

The Magical Bisexual is not from here. They’re not familiar with our ways, and if they are, they don’t quite understand them. The Magical Bisexual is from the future (Jack Harkness and River Song, Doctor Who), from a mystical world unbeknownst to us (Magnus Bane, Shadowhunters; Tara Thornton, True Blood; Bo Dennis, Lost Girl), or even from another planet (Frank N Furter, Rocky Horror Picture Show).

The Hedonistic Bisexual is similar in that they are counterculture, whether intentionally or not. They’re from our world, but in their pursuit of pleasures, they find themselves playing by different rules from the rest of us. Perhaps because they rejected cultural conformity at a young age, or because they cannot make sense of why they should bother to conform in the first place. They might be a heavy drinker (Klaus, The Umbrella Academy, John Constantine, Legends of Tomorrow), horny and indulgent (Ilana Wexler, Broad City; Oberyn and Ellaria, Game of Thrones), or overconfident and possibly autistic (Elise Wassermann, The Tunnel; Lisbeth Salander, Girl with the Dragon Tattoo). You can probably already see some overlap, some characters fusing their tropes into the combo Magical Hedonistic Bisexual.

The Magical and Hedonistic Bisexuals do not adhere to the monosexual rules of mainstream culture, and possibly do not understand them. Gay? Straight? What are these sexual orientations of which you speak? As Jack Harkness once lamented, “You people and your quaint little categories.”

These characters are fun, and creative, and unlike the Catherine Tramells of the world, they’re often good people. It’s easy to fall in love with characters who break the mold, and even inspiring to many bisexuals to see how alternative and revolutionary our sexuality can be when we’re often told it’s simply “gay lite”. They are superheroes, special detectives, warlocks, even royalty. In these unusual, unrealistic (though enjoyable) portrayals, bisexuality goes hand in hand with power. In a world where bisexuals are struggling more than most in terms of poverty, mental health, addiction, domestic abuse, and suicidal ideation, that power is a comforting fantasy.

The Magical Bisexual and the Hedonistic Bisexual are the “other”, and their bisexuality is shown as another aspect of their otherness. Bisexuality is used as a metaphor to convey their hedonism, their alienness, or a general anarchistic attitude towards the rules of polite society. The Evil Bisexual also utilises the role of the “other”, but in that context, otherness is used to convey how dangerous they are. The Magical and Hedonistic Bisexuals flourish in their otherness – it’s an expression of their beauty and goodness. Magnus Bane is a lover, not a fighter – a lover of any gender. Jack Harkness is indulgent and strange – but will always fight for a future with no societal (or gender) hierarchies. Elise Wassermann doesn’t see people, or sexuality, in black and white terms – her alternative ways of thinking are what make her a great detective.

However these characters almost never outwardly identify as bisexual, God forbid. Because they exist outside of labels, outside of “quaint little categories,” it doesn’t matter how many decades of bisexual community building or activism pass in the real world; they will never truly identify as “one of us.” They will never go to a bi meet up, or even have bisexual friends. Where are the Normal Bisexuals? Where’s me? As much as I want to be a magical hedonist from the future, I’m afraid to say I’m very much a couch potato from the present.

The Normal Bisexual is much harder to find, although a few good examples would include Abbi Abrams from Broad City, and Laila from The Bisexual – both of these examples being written by real life bisexuals, who also played the character themselves. The bisexuality of Rosa Diaz from Brooklyn Nine-Nine, another character who easily falls into counterculture categories, was heavily influenced by the bisexual actress behind the character. Orange is the New Black’s Piper Chapman is bisexual because the real life Piper Kerman is bisexual herself. It’s not surprising that the most realistic portrayals of bisexuality on television would come from bisexual writers, and perhaps even less surprising that those writers are overwhelmingly women.

Bisexuality is a loaded issue. With it comes a broad range of specific and difficult life experiences which may be less appealing to creators than bisexuality as metaphor. To the gay and straight writer, the bisexual certainly is the “other”. It must be hard to resist using bisexuality to represent the straddling of two worlds, a character’s alien duality. For example, River Song and Jack Harkness are both simultaneously from the future and the past; Tara Thornton walks the line between her human life and her new life as a vampire. Perhaps it’s time to move away from bisexuality as a metaphor and bring in more bi creators to portray their lived experience.

Do the Magical Bisexual and the Hedonistic Bisexual tropes have the potential to be harmful? Certainly. Any tropes do if they become the standard portrayal of a minority, erasing diversity, and creating a stereotype. But standing on their own, in the context of their respective stories, they’re fairly harmless, often lovable, and even empowering to bi viewers. I will continue to long for more of the Normal Bisexual, who might openly identify as bi on screen, or maybe even have a cute bi button on their backpack. In the meantime, bring on the magical hedonists! Gotta love ‘em!

 

2020 Update: Please enjoy this cinematic dramatisation of this essay.

Comments (1)

  1. I love that Crazy Ex-Girlfriend had three bisexual characters (Darryl, Maya, and Valencia). Each are relatively normal, considering most of the characters in the show are pretty goofy. I love Darryl’s storyline, in which he goes through a divorce, and then falls in love with a man. I love that, even when he broke up with his male partner and started to date a new, female partner, that didn’t erase his bisexual identity. Dating a man wasn’t a phase, he wasn’t temporarily gay, he didn’t “go back” to being straight. He was a bisexual man in a relationship with a man, and then in a relationship with a woman. I think that’s really important representation for me.

    A lot of people dismiss bisexuality because if you’re dating someone the same gender as you, you must be gay, and if you’re dating someone who isn’t your gender, you’re straight and just looking to be “special”.

    Darryl’s bisexuality becomes an important part of his identity. He sings a song about it, and really celebrates that aspect of himself. Meanwhile, for Maya, it’s such a normal thing to her that – other than mentioning it a couple of times – she doesn’t really bring it up; it’s just one tiny part of her that has little bearing over her life.

    I particularly loved Valencia’s storyline because – whether this was the show’s intention or not – she seemed to identify pretty strongly as straight; but then she falls in love with a woman, and it’s not so much that she was attracted sexually to this woman, but that she really fell in love with her as a person, and that her gender became irrelevant to Valencia in that moment. Watching Valencia come to terms with what that meant for her was beautiful. Watching her realise that in a relationship with two women, tradition is already thrown out of the window, and so she didn’t need to wait for some knight in shining armour, or some masculine figure to come and propose to her; she could be the one to propose, and that gender roles didn’t have to define *any* relationship she was in.

    And most importantly, these were not the point of the plot. I love stories with bisexual people like me, but I love them the most when these are just parts of a character’s identity and not the entire point of the story. These are just normal people living their normal lives (within the context of the madness of this show, of course!), and sometimes, the things that happen are relevant to their sexual orientation, but often, it’s not. Their identity is not some burden on them that consumes every waking thought. It’s not a burden on their friends.

    Most importantly, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend was not afraid of that word: bisexual. It’s not a dirty word to them. It’s not synonymous with weird, or slutty, or promiscuous. They’re normal people doing things normal people do, and they’re bisexual.

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