Those viewers who enjoy immersion TV � that is, TV that makes you think rather than being merely a backdrop for knitting or reconditioning that table � should know about Clapham Junction .
The five-part miniseries was made for Britain's Channel 4. Written by playwright Kevin Elyot, the series details 36 hours in the interconnected lives of several gay men in London. It's spectacularly good, compulsively watchable and deeply disturbing.
Clapham Junction was loosely based on a gay-bashing murder in 2005 in London, and was made as part of a 40th anniversary celebration of the decriminalization of homosexuality in the UK in 1967.
We lived for a time in London during the Section 28 controversy, and were always stunned at how a nation that seemed almost wholly gay could be so rabidly homophobic. Section 28 was an amendment which stipulated that "a local authority shall not intentionally promote homosexuality or publish material with the intention of promoting homosexuality," or "promote the teaching in any maintained school of the acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship."
Clapham Junction is about the way British society says one thing and does another about gay men. The series begins at a gay wedding and follows several intersecting stories, including a barely post-pubescent immigrant boy learning the violin, a teenager eager for his first gay sexual experience, a gay man from the North of England who has finally realized his dream to live in London and be openly gay, a TV writer, a married father of a young son with a homophobic wife, a closeted gay man who cruises simply to bash his tricks, and a gay doctor, who is one of the two men married in the opening scene. It stars veteran British actors like James Wilby (not his first foray as a closet case), Rupert Graves, Paul Nicholls and Samantha Bond, and gives an all-too-fleeting performance by the gorgeous and gifted David Leon as Alfie.
Clapham Junction takes on male desire in all its myriad and often surprising forms. The married and happily straight friend of the TV writer, who has a perfectly gorgeous wife, tells his gay friend he's just "dying for a fuck."
The series also juxtaposes male rage and violence and male sexuality, and how they intersect. Gangs of queer-bashers troll the toilets at Clapham Common and Hampstead Heath, looking for victims whom they either anally rape or beat to death.
Clapham Junction is not easy to watch. The violence is absolutely horrifying. This is not the stylized, root-for-the-killer kind of violence of a show like Dexter, where we are horrified by the gore yet somehow complicit in the violence. This is hard-core violence that is brutally realistic and makes you loathe its perpetrators, who simply cannot bear the idea of men enjoying other men. Or even enjoying something seemingly unmanly, like playing the violin.
Clapham Junction is so far out of the norm of queer TV that it's positively mind-blowing. Some will no doubt argue that its view of gay male sexuality is too sex-centered and not emotional enough a rendering, but those viewers will have missed the incredibly nuanced sensitivity of some of the relationships.
Are all the characters likable? No. But then, how many of the characters on The Wire or Lost or Damages are likable? Right, then.
So get it, watch it, own it. Prepare to be shocked by the open sexuality and the disturbing violence. Prepare to cry at the end. Prepare to want more. You can check out scenes from Clapham Junction on YouTube and Channel 4.
Be forewarned, however: this series will spoil you for queer TV forever. But until that time, keep watching.