For years, public access was the only place on the TV dial where gay people could see positive images of ourselves, produced by ourselves. We weren't completely absent from the tube. On ground-breaking network shows like Dynasty and Soap, we got to see characters who couldn't decide if they were gay or straight. We got to hear sad, plaintive pleas for tolerance on various sitcoms, many of which did one-shot gay episodes.
But who we really are was conspicuously absent from the tube until that glorious night in 1997 when Ellen De Generes, an honest-to-goodness, card-carrying lesbian, said, "I'm gay." Thirty-nine million people tuned in to hear Ellen say those two words. Time magazine put her on its cover. Networks took notice.
Two years later, Will & Grace debuted. Though its leads were straight, one of its creators was an out, loud and proud gay man. During the show's initial press junket, cast member Megan Mullaly proudly announced her bisexuality, and made it abundantly clear that she didn't give a hang what anyone thought of it.
Soon after, we got our first soap. Queer as Folk became the most heavily watched program in the history of Showtime. It inspired the creation of a sister soap, The L Word. Then Bravo gave us Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, which has become a pop culture phenomenon.
It was only a matter of time before cable television, the home of niche networks, offered up some all-gay channels. And why not? There were theme channels devoted to everything else, why not LGBT channels?
Of the three channels we got, one, Logo, an MTV/Viacom advertiser-supported network, seems to be holding its own. But Logo, a basic cable channel, sanitizes its programs so as not to offend any Family Values channel-surfers. During a recent telecast of Tony Scott's The Hunger (1983), it censored the highly erotic lesbian seduction scene between Catherine Deneuve and Susan Sarandon. All of Sarandon's nude shots were gone, as were most shots of the two women kissing. Most of the scene's seductive power ended up on the cutting-room floor as well.
Deep dish
Three years after launching, gay-owned/operated pay channels Here & Q Television Network [QTN] struggle to stay afloat. Here, which offers 12 hours of movies and original programs a day, is offered largely as a pay-per-view service. Until recently, Direct TV was one of the few outlets to offer Here TV full-time, but Direct has since cut the channel back to pay-per-view. Direct TV reps did not respond to queries. Dish Network also offers Here as a pay-per-view, but neither satellite service offers QTN. Dish rep Marc Lumpkin told me that Dish always strives for the most diversified programming possible, but had no current plans to add new channels.
QTN, going into only 3 million homes nationwide, may be in serious trouble. The channel has prided itself on its daily live programs, but last month they laid off 100 staffers and suspended production for a week. Worse, the lesbian magazine Girlfriends is suing the network for unpaid advertising bills.
QTN Vice President of Live Programming Scott Withers said, "Reports of Q Television Network's demise have been greatly exaggerated." Withers pointed out that no shows have been cancelled.
QTN Chief Financial Officer Rene Schenk put it this way: "We are proud of being grounded in the gay community and are the Gay Family Network. At $7.95 a month, we are affordable, and we want to be invited into people's homes."
Schenk said he felt QTN's long-term survival prospects were excellent. "That's the reason we come in every day and work as hard as we do. We had to cut back. We are regrouping, and everyone will be paid."
But the bottom line is this: without subscribers, these networks cannot survive. They need carriage on cable and satellite services in order to obtain that subscriber base. But even San Francisco's main cable provider, Comcast, has declined to carry QTN, though it is offered by the much smaller local carrier RCN.
It may be up to us, the LGBT viewers, to contact our cable providers and demand these channels. If we don't, then the lack of real LGBT programs on our dials may be no one's fault but our own.