All language subtitles for Independent.Lens.S24E06.No.Straight.Lines.1080p.WEBRip.x264-BAE

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

[light music]

♪ ♪

- When I was a teenager,
that's when I first found

Roberta Gregory
and Mary Wings' comics.

And I remember reading those
and just being transfixed.

- I was very tired
of feeling hidden.

I was very tired
of feeling misunderstood.

I needed to speak
to other people.

And I was just super into
drawing the Brown Bomber.

The Brown Bomber was not
only African American,

but he was a gay superhero.

- Defining ourselves was
an exciting thing for me.

point for me artistically.

The experience

of being totally honest,

suddenly it is a greater
chance for high-voltage art.

I was just torn to doing it.

- I remember so clearly when
I discovered "Gay Comix."

All of a sudden,
here was this permission

and a roadmap for exactly
what I felt like

I wanted to do in my life.

♪ ♪

[cat meows]

♪ ♪

- The idea of creating
comics that aren't really

about making people heroic
is one of the things

that I think queer comics
have done the best.

[school bell rings]

- I grew to hate being
photographed as a teenager,

specifically after puberty.

And it was because
I didn't recognize

myself in a photograph.

But when you're
drawing yourself,

you can draw yourself
however you want.

And that's another
reason why I think

that comics is a medium that's
so friendly to a queer author.

- You know, you're gay,
you're lesbian,

whatever you are,
your identity, all of a sudden,

you don't know how to be that.

There's nothing at all,
no fairy tales even, no movies.

♪ ♪

- As a kid, I was always on
the lookout for something

that resonated with my
perspective of the world,

which was tough,
beautiful, kickass women.

♪ ♪

And so in the comics,
those were the kinds

of female characters
I was drawn to,

especially the villains.

Like in Steve Canyon, the
female villains were gorgeous

and powerful and exotic.

[telephone rings]

And then, of course, there
was Hank in "Brenda Starr,"

who was very
masculine appearing.

So I was finding dykes in
comics from a very early age,

I think.

♪ ♪

- When I was in my early 20s
and had ambitions,

I thought I would do
a newspaper strip.

Comic books were considered
slightly lowbrow

compared to newspaper strips,

because everyone
saw newspaper strips.

And there were people
that became famous and rich.

So that seemed like
a worthy ambition.

Eventually,
I learned that newspaper

strips were highly censored.

[dramatic music]

- [cackling]

- In the '50s,
there was a big scandal

over the horror comics
and crime comics,

widely known as EC Comics.

Kids loved them.

Parents hated them.

Government people hated them.

There was a book about how
horrible comics were for kids.

There started to be
censorship in the air.

The Comics Code Authority
was imposed.

And any comic that was
displayed on a newsstand

had to follow a
certain set of rules.

You could never show law
enforcement in a bad light.

There could be no mention
of homosexuality,

all sorts of things that were
designed to reinforce

the most bland vision of what
American life should be like.

♪ ♪

[rock music]

Then when you had
the counterculture revolution,

Underground Comix
could never have passed

the Comics Code Authority.

They were sold, in general,
at head shops where they sold

drug paraphernalia
and psychedelic posters

and things that hippies liked.

Anything you could
think of could be

in an underground comic.

[rapid gunfire]

♪ ♪

And they were full of stuff
about drugs

and uncensored sex,

because Underground Comix
were only sold

to adults, theoretically.

[accordion music]

♪ ♪

- We felt very
alone and isolated.

Most of our parents hated us

or would have nothing
to do with us.

And we were all
living in secret.

And we started to read all

the underground things
that were coming out.

[rock music]

I had seen R. Crumb
comic books,

which were really,
really disturbing

and an example
of why feminists

would want to make their own.

[accordion music]

♪ ♪

So, there was a Portland
women's bookstore.

And I happened upon Trina
Robbins' the

Wimmen's Comix.

And I was so happy to see

there in
Wimmen's Comix
was,
"Sandy Comes Out."

♪ ♪

And then I was disappointed.

♪ ♪

It looked
very superficial to me.

It's sort of as if
one day she wakes up.

She takes a karate class.

She sleeps with a woman.

Men can't come into her house.

She's going to wear
overalls forever

and never shave her armpits.

Goodbye. The end.

♪ ♪

And I thought, well,
this has nothing to do with

what it really feels like.

♪ ♪

And I didn't know
what I was doing.

I grabbed a Rapidograph pen,
and I sat on a sofa

with bad lighting.

And I just sort of went at it.

♪ ♪

"Come Out Comix" is a very
simple story about a woman

who gets attracted to another
woman, and oh, dear,

what are they going
to do about it?

And do they really
feel that way?

♪ ♪

I really wanted to do something
that showed all the emotion,

all the sort of worry
and trauma

that you have
about coming out,

and all those things
about really being a queer.

I did have two friends
who had an offset press.

And they were two women
who ran a karate studio.

So, we kind of printed
it in the off hours.

I created "Come Out Comix"
with absolutely

no idea of distribution.

♪ ♪

I'm not even sure the word
"marketing" had been invented.

I mean, it was sort of the
boondocks, the nowhere.

It was-- the field was open.

It didn't exist.

And when I think more and
more about why I did it,

it was just a gift.

♪ ♪

I wanted women
to have something

that mirrored their
experience, that felt good.

Because most of us just
settle down into lives

that are pretty repetitive.

And I wanted my lesbian sisters
to go on an insane adventure

while they're sitting
in their armchairs

and they have to go
to work the next day.

♪ ♪

[dog barking]

"Come Out Comix" came
out of a period

of great transformation.

Women were transforming
themselves,

breaking barriers
right and left.

It was a very,
very exciting time.

[dog barking]

I had no idea that
I was going to be

part of such a big adventure.

♪ ♪

- I was in the room
with Mary Wings,

Trina Robbins, and Lee Mars.

And I definitely
had a panic attack.

I remember us all sitting
on the couch together

and them telling us how they
first got started in comics

and how drastically
different it was.

And it was just
so overwhelming,

because I was just
so grateful

that these people
had come before

and had helped me get to
the point where I am today,

and have people acknowledge
them and take them seriously.

And without them,
I don't think I would

have been able to do that.

- I was born in San Francisco.

And just knowing,
like, years later

that there was
an Underground Comix movement,

but there was also
like this critique

initiated by women
and queer folks,

like,
to create their own space.

To know that these
are like the footsteps

that we're walking in
for this generation,

that's something
I don't want to ever forget.

♪ ♪

- When I was a kid, I got into
so many different comic books.

I got into
the "Fantastic Four."

I really, really loved them.

They were
my favorite comic strip.

So I drew Batman.

I drew Spider-Man, Superman.

And I drew them well
enough that I gained

notoriety in the neighborhood.

"Oh, Rupert can draw the Hulk.

Have Rupert draw the Hulk."

[upbeat funky music]

♪ ♪

I grew up in Chicago.

And my hero in popular
culture was Muhammad Ali.

- Cassius Clay of Chicago
challenges Garry Jawish.

- Muhammad Ali didn't merely
say he was the greatest.

He said, "I am so pretty."

- He's too ugly
to be the world's champ.

The world's champ should
be pretty like me.

- The degree to which white
people hated his brashness

increased my love for him.

One of the things
that struck me

was his confidence
during a period of time

where Black men
were almost like not

wanting to be seen, be
literally the Invisible Man.

Once I started becoming
really enamored

of Muhammad Ali
and his message,

it was like a wake-up call.

I looked at these
characters I was drawing.

And I thought,
my God, why the hell

am I drawing
white superheroes?

And there was
a certain degree of anger.

The word that keeps coming
to mind, oddly enough,

is "bamboozled."

I felt that I had accepted

that the world of comics
were white.

And that led me
to create Superbad.

He had this giant
'fro that was designed

to strike fear in the hearts
of every white person.

His costume was the Black
Liberation flag colors.

It was the very beginning
of my comics

for me being cathartic.

[light music]

♪ ♪

I decided I wanted to create
a more whimsical superhero

that was more original.

And I actually started
discovering the history

of another boxer, Joe Louis.

Joe Louis always struck me
as more meek, more humble.

His nickname
was the Brown Bomber.

And I started drawing
these little sketches

of this character.

He had these socks
that went up to right

below his knees and a cape.

I just became more and
more humored by the whimsy.

[upbeat music]

♪ ♪

I was at Cornell College
in Iowa.

And I was approached
by the editor

of the school newspaper
saying that they wanted

an editorial cartoonist.

So it was an incredibly
pivotal part

of my whole career.

♪ ♪

All of a sudden,
the Brown Bomber

became melded with this idea
of editorial content.

And it was campus life.

So I did comics
about the way men

were treating women,

kids who were pampered
by their parents.

The Brown Bomber
really had morphed

into being a school mascot.

But he wasn't identified
as a gay character, per se.

It happened my senior year,
where I came up

with the idea of these
totally black panels,

where the Brown Bomber
is contemplating

being in the dark

and wanting to reveal
who he truly was.

But he wasn't sure
if he would be accepted.

[knock on door]

I actually had people come
to my dorm room and say,

"Wow,
I had no idea all along

"you meant
for the Brown Bomber

to be gay, that he's gay."

And then there would be
this light, they'd go,

"Are you gay?"

And I'd have to say,
"Well, yeah,

I've been gay all along."

- Come on, Molly.

[gentle music]

♪ ♪

From the time I was eight
or so

and my father told me that
some people earned a living

doing this drawing
that I was doing.

That got my interest
because the adults

that surrounded me
in the little farm town,

Springville, Alabama,
none of their jobs

looked terribly interesting.

And particularly the farmers.

Looked like that was an
incredibly heavy labor job.

And that didn't appeal to me.

So I began wanting
to be a cartoonist.

♪ ♪

The first time I was aware
that any cartoonists anywhere

were doing cartoons
about gay people

was in the "Advocate,"
the pre-Stonewall "Advocate."

It was called "Miss Thing."

And it was very campy.

Basically, he was someone
that a straight person

would never know about.

Like Tom of Finland,
who is now well known.

And they have gallery
shows in New York.

But for my generation,
it was just porn.

It was just particularly
excellent porn.

♪ ♪

It was a big step
when I moved to New York.

I wasn't just interested
in doing comics about gayness

or even just in doing comics.

I wanted to do
magazine illustrations

and other things.

I didn't want
to be pigeonholed.

[engine revving]

[rock music]

In 1969, by happenstance,
I and some friends of mine

happened to be witnesses
to the Stonewall riots.

♪ ♪

[crowd booing]

[crowd cheering]

[horns honking]

[door slamming]

[glass shattering]

♪ ♪

Within the days immediately
following the Stonewall riots,

it became clear
that a fuse had been lit.

♪ ♪

[cheers and applause]

♪ ♪

I became aware that
there was a civil rights

battle to be fought.

Then I felt like, you know,
something has to be done

so that every
generation does not go

through what I went through.

♪ ♪

And one of the ways that
I felt I could contribute

was to represent a world
that had gay people in it.

- I have only just began
to grasp

the wealth of queer comics
history, so to speak.

It's something that I feel.

You should always
know your roots.

But these are very
new roots for me.

- I remember Mary Wings
said she thought

she was the only lesbian.

To put yourself out there in
a situation where you're going,

"Am I a total anomaly?" and to
still put yourself out there,

I mean, that's just amazing.

- If it hadn't been for people
who came out before me

in a time when it was much
more dangerous to do so

and been willing to make work,
then my work

wouldn't be received
the way that it is now.

- I read
"Dykes to Watch Out For"

cover to cover
at the Lucy Parsons Library

in Boston, Massachusetts.

And that experience
of finding that book

and sitting in this
library by myself

and just really delving deep
into these characters

that this person
had spent 25 years creating,

that had a huge impact on me.

- I'm filling in the blacks
on a very old comic strip.

It's very easy
to fill in the blacks.

It's just a mouse click
in Photoshop.

But for them to really
look nice on their own,

they should be inked in.

So I'm doing that
after the fact.

I remember so clearly
when I discovered gay comics.

The thought that I could
draw about my own queer life

was really
revolutionary for me.

Let me think.

It was soon after seeing that
first issue of gay comics,

and being exposed
to this wonderful world

of these stories,
that I forced myself

to start drawing lesbians.

Because although
I had drawn all my life,

I almost exclusively drew men,

which started to seem
really odd to me

once I came out
and realized that I was, like,

really interested in women.

Why was I just drawing men?

Donny, you're so funny today.

I just use Rapidograph ink.

But I put it in a bottle
so I can get at it.

And I use a dip pen,
a Hunt number 100.

But you can see
it can be a very fine line

or a very thick line.

It's very sharp and precise,
but it's also--

it's got this emotionality
to it, you know,

in a way you can get
so many different widths.

"Dykes to Watch Out For"
evolved really slowly,

first from these
just silly drawings

I was doing for my friends,

just one image with a caption.

That was kind of
like "The New Yorker"

influence of my childhood.

I would always read the
comics in "The New Yorker."

- [gasps]

[dish clattering]

[upbeat jazzy music]

♪ ♪

They were all
just single-panel comics

in the early days.

It was something
that I published

in the feminist newspaper

where I worked
in New York City.

♪ ♪

So this is kind of like my--

my final sketch
that I'm going to draw from.

So I put my good paper down
on top of it on a light box.

So this shines through.

And then I draw--

I redraw it all in pencil.

And then ink over it.

So the pencil is this
beautiful evanescent stage

that no longer exists,
because I have erased it,

and I've drawn over it.

But it's my favorite
part of the process,

is when the pencil
is all finished

and I haven't inked it yet.

- Why is that your favorite?

- Because it still has the
possibility of perfection.

I haven't
[bleep] anything up yet.

[delicate piano music]

♪ ♪

I didn't earn a living
for a long time.

It took me until
I was 30 to really

have enough gigs that
I could take that risk

of quitting my day job.

My day job, at that point,
was cutting and pasting.

It was before computers.

Really, like,
wax and rubber cement,

which was great training
for being a cartoonist.

I loved it.

I love that challenge
of having to fit

a certain amount of text
and a certain number of images

into a given space.

♪ ♪

- If I can find
what I'm looking for--

that's not the drawer.

That's not the drawer.
That's not the drawer.

That's what I'm looking for.

These are drawings
that were either

drawn while I was
tripping on acid

or that were inspired
by the acid experience.

[light piano music]

I was down in Alabama
in Birmingham.

And I discovered
Kitchen Sink Comics

published by Denis Kitchen.

So I sent him some
of my stuff

I'd been doing for underground
newspapers locally.

And Denis liked those
and asked me to send more.

And so he began to
regularly publish my stuff.

♪ ♪

In 1979, Denis, with whom
I had this long relationship

by then, he had published
most of my underground comics,

he said he was thinking about
starting a new series called

"Gay Comix."

So he said, would I be
interested in editing it?

I realized it was
really an ideal way

to come out professionally.

♪ ♪

Denis.

- Howard, hey.

- You remember Molly.

- Of course.

Hey, Molly.

- Let's sit in here.
- Yeah?

- We can have some tea.

- All right.

Nice cup.

- You know, we were talking
about "Gay Comix" a while back.

- Yeah.
- And I remember

getting a letter
from you about it.

But I don't know
if you ever told me

sort of what led you
to think of it.

- I think-- was it a
story you did in "Snarf,"

maybe, one of the comics,
where Headrack came up.

- Yeah, that was
"Barefootz" No. 2.

- Okay.

[funky music]

♪ ♪

- It just seemed to me
the time was right.

I mean, I was doing--
you've got to remember,

I'm doing
other anthologies.

"Dope Comics," well,
I was a card-carrying

marijuana smoker.

That was easier for me.

I was doing
"Bizarre Sex" comics.

- I was doing--
- Yeah, "Bizarre Sex Lives."

- "Wimmen's Comix"
with Trina and others.

And it just seemed like,
for me, what Underground Comix

were partly about
is for a forum

for groups and individuals
to speak their mind.

And it was kind of an offshoot
of the Free Speech Movement.

And it's, like, it's time.

Comics were so
suppressed for so long,

my feeling was,
let all the voices out.

And once I figured out--

it took me a while--
that you were gay.

And I just thought,
well, jeez,

you'd be the perfect guy
to edit it.

♪ ♪

- That was scary.

You can't take it back.
The cat's out of the bag.

[bell dings]

So I wrote to everybody
who was in the world

of Underground Comix.

I said, "I know that many
of you may feel

"that it's threatening
to your career for you

to be open about being gay."

As a gay person,
I felt those feelings too.

But I feel like, you know,
given the onslaught

of anti-gay activity
that it was really

important that people be out.

And it's not just
for political reasons.

People should be able
to do art about their lives.

[typewriter tapping]

We sent this letter
to every cartoonist

in Denis Kitchen's Rolodex.

- I know there were more than
a handful of rather macho guys

who were quite
indignant that they'd

gotten this form letter.

But I mean,
like I said, who knows?

And there were
a number of surprises

that we never
could have guessed,

including some
people who were bi and...

- Mm-hmm.

[funky music]

♪ ♪

- I wanted to establish
this is co-gender.

This is not a boys' club.

I said, I want this to be
an honest comic book

about the human experience
of being gay.

I mean, even if you want
to do a funny animal story,

it needs to grow out
of the real-life experiences

of gay people in spirit.

I mean, it could be fanciful.

It could-- you could take
all sorts of liberties

with reality.

But what I didn't
want was something

that was all about
camp or that was

specifically just about sex.

I said in my little opening
statement, I wanted this to be

about people, not penises.

And some of the artists took
me so literally that the issue

was in danger of being
so sex-free that I made--

my contribution
to the first issue

was the very sexually
explicit story.

It was called--
"Billy Goes Out,"

was the name of the story.

It was about going out
for a night of hopefully sex

in Greenwich Village
in the late '70s

before the AIDS epidemic.

Externally, the guy
was out looking for sex.

He was cruising.

It was about the inner
life of the character.

Every panel had his
thought processes

above his actual actions.

And he had this thing called
the rejection checklist.

[quirky music]

♪ ♪

But also talked about--
had things about his family

relationships,
all the things that

might go through your head.

And the point was, people who
entered that sexual world that

was so freewheeling
during the '70s,

they were full-fledged
human beings who had lives.

[upbeat funky music]

♪ ♪

- I remember in 1979

I had a friend
who was always sick.

And nobody could
figure out what it was.

And he would go to the doctor.

And they would give him
some sort of diagnosis

and give him some
kind of medication.

And he never got better.

And then we started
hearing about GRID,

the Gay Related Immune
Deficiency, and then AIDS.

- 800 cases nationwide,
300-plus of those fatal.

And every day, three more
cases are identified.

And yet still,
surprisingly few people

are familiar with the Acquired
Immune Deficiency Syndrome.

[somber music]

♪ ♪

- And we lived
through this period

where it was this mystery.

And then it was
this death sentence.

♪ ♪

AIDS was a huge
part of our lives.

And our friends were
getting sick and dying.

And we were helpless
to stop it.

♪ ♪

And our whole community--

I don't know if I can
talk about this.

♪ ♪

I can't talk about it.

♪ ♪

[crying]

all: Fight AIDS!
Act up! Fight back!

Fight AIDS!
Act up! Fight back!

Fight AIDS!
Act up! Fight back!

Fight AIDS! Act up!
Fight back!

Fight AIDS!
Act up! Fight back!

Fight AIDS!

- It was a frightening time.

It was a heartbreaking time.

I watched people behave
in terrible ways.

And we wrote
about it in comics.

It was hard to write
about sometimes.

It was difficult.

♪ ♪

Some people told
personal stories

about characters
with HIV and AIDS,

like Howard did in "Wendel."

"7 Miles a Second"
by David Wojnarowicz

was really about the rage
and the horror

that was involved
in this epidemic.

[water splashing]

Some people did satirical
comics about the reaction

to HIV and AIDS.

[water splashing]

- That's the kind
of humor you would get

from people with AIDS.

Humor is one of the ways
that people deal with tragedy.

Death was in the air.

They weren't
pretending it wasn't.

- Jerry Lopresti.

LHM.

Michael--

- Basically, you know,
America at large was

not interested in reacting.

Gay people stepped
up to the plate.

- Michael McDowell.

- Joe Avella.
- William Maysle.

- Michael Babcock.

- Peter Neihaus.

- There's no other
group of people

I would rather go
through a deadly epidemic with

than the gay community.

- Howard Dill.

- Our response
to the AIDS epidemic,

as horrible as it was,
made you proud to be gay.

- Alex Kovnor.

[seagulls squawking]

[upbeat violin music]

♪ ♪

- Look at the highlights
on that sausage sign.

The lettering is amazing.

You've got drop shadows.

You've got italics.

You've got outline.

Some have serifs, some don't.

It's classic, old-style,
hand-painted sign lettering.

I love these two characters
on the roof of the building.

But it always cracks me
up that the little girl

is carrying a mug that looks
like a giant mug of beer.

And I think originally those
were root beer stand signs.

But now, it looks like
she's an exclusively drunken

child, which I love.

I always drew comics.

In school, it was making
fun of the teachers

or the people in authority.

And art was a way for me to
comment on what was going on.

And I am very opinionated.

And I have something
to say about everything.

I didn't really think
of being a cartoonist.

I just-- it was something
that was accessible to me.

It was a pencil
and a piece of paper.

And it didn't require a whole
lot of expensive equipment.

[light violin music]

♪ ♪

I come from
a mixed background.

I'm half Lebanese, half
white-bread American mongrel.

And I didn't relate
to the little girls

in the books I was reading.

And I didn't relate
to the downtrodden,

struggling whatever.

I wanted characters
like me to be victorious.

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

[billiard balls clattering]

I remember going to a gay
bar when I was underage.

And that was amazing.

[laughs]
Those are some stories.

I remember seeing
all these older dykes

and being fascinated by them.

And the drink was the--

what was that orange drink?

Tequila Sunrises.

All those pretty drinks,
that bright colors.

And there were these big
old dykes who had, like,

been kicked out of the army.

And they were like buying
drinks for their girls.

And I was watching
everything and learning, oh,

this is how you do it, right?

[indistinct chatter]

And I remember hanging out,
being just a little brat.

And that's really how
I saw the queer world

and learned about
dyke behavior.

[upbeat music]

[cat growls]

♪ ♪

My feeling was, I was creating
sexual imagery for dykes.

And I felt like,
well, why can't

we have our own sexy comics?

[quirky music]

♪ ♪

Some women felt that
my work was too sexist

and I was objectifying women.

I'm a dyke.

I do objectify women.

I love them.

I find them sexy.

I love the fact that people
were paying attention.

And if they got mad,
then I was doing my job.

[upbeat quirky music]

♪ ♪

I never had an idea
that this was a career.

This was what I did because I
loved it, because it was fun.

In the early '80s,
Howard Cruse had started

the anthology comic,
"Gay Comix," with an X.

And I sent something in.

And Howard said
he would print it.

And Howard was just an amazing
editor, an amazing mentor.

And as I went
along in my career,

every time I hit a wall of,
oh, how do I do a contract,

or how do I--

how much should
I charge for this?

Or what if they don't pay me?

You know, call Howard
because he'd know.

He'd done it, you know?

And so he really is the
godfather of queer comics.

- My now husband,
and for 37 years, partner,

Eddie Sedarbaum, I met
in 1979 after I had lived

in New York for two years.

We met at a gay
discussion group.

I quickly detected
that he was a really

interesting person to talk to.

And he had thoughtful
things to say.

And it had possibilities of
moving beyond just a hook up.

Here we are 37 years later.

- Have you ever
remembered your coffee?

- Once. I think I did once.

And starting with "Gay Comix"
and then continuing

through the '80s,
I was drawing about the kind

of people like Eddie
and me and our friends.

In the third issue,
I felt all the stories were

about young, buff, gay men.

And I wanted to do
something about older gays

who were underrepresented.

So I created these two
characters, Luke and Clark.

And the story was
called "Dirty Old Lovers."

It spun off of some
of the kind of times

that Eddie and I would have.

Eddie and I have always been
very uninhibited about,

you know, saying lascivious
things about what

was going on around us
or taking note of cute guys.

- Nice smile.

- And so
the "Dirty Old Lovers,"

it was just about a stroll

they took in their
neighborhood.

And ultimately,
they wound up at a bar.

And all of the other guys
in this gay bar

were being really snotty
about these two older gay men.

This guy took umbrage at that
and went home with them.

And so they had a nice,
cuddly threesome.

[door hinge squeaks]

It was an affirmative thing
about getting older.

It was also just fun to write,
because these guys

are just so uninhibited.

And their repartee
wrote itself.

- I have a--

I have a very early
"Dykes to Watch Out For."

Oh my God, look it,
yeah, it's crappy.

It's like just normal
drawing paper with Wite-Out

that's all chipping off.

And I can tell you I drew it
with a Niji Stylus.

Isn't that weird
that I can tell just by looking

at the line what pen it was?

[accordion music]

It was almost a mission
of mine for a long time

to show this stuff,
just to show real bodies,

people's real sex lives.

♪ ♪

I wanted to
de-stigmatize lesbian

sexuality and women's bodies.

It was something I felt
really passionately about.

♪ ♪

Well, here's one after
I introduced the characters.

And it's an episode where
they're all on their way

to the 1987
March on Washington.

[engines revving]

♪ ♪

About four years after
I drew the first cartoon,

I finally took the plunge into
creating regular characters,

like I had seen Howard do.

Never looked back.

Every two weeks,
I had to further

my characters' narrative.

And I had to weave in
the latest

horror that had happened
on the political scene.

♪ ♪

Many of my characters
were also consumed

with all of this stuff
that was going on,

the Patriot Act, and all this
sort of creeping fascism.

I kept track of this all

with this
crazy spreadsheet.

You keep track of the
episodes across the top.

And down the side
are all your characters.

So I would map out my stories
almost like they were

spontaneously generated.

Like, I put all this
information

into the spreadsheet,
and I got a story out of it.

♪ ♪

- The first time I can remember
seeing a trans guy represented

in comics,
I think, was probably

in "Dykes to Watch Out For."

Oh look, I exist.

- You know, one way or another,
we all have someone we're

scared to tell something to.

And it's just a--

it's a great starting
point for stories.

- [slurping]

♪ ♪

- I would religiously read
Robb Kirby's "Curbside."

Wow, I really wanted to
be a gay man in New York,

because I'm still, deep in
my heart, a huge fan girl.

[bottle pops]

[people cheering]

- I love that Jen Camper
is an out Arab American

hardcore feminist woman.

- The first queer
comic that I saw--

that I was like,
OK, this is gay,

and like, I have to hide
this from my family,

was the "Wendel" comic.

♪ ♪

- Most of my comics
are not about violence.

But this was a scene where
Wendel and his friends

are attacked by homophobes.

And you have a scene
such as this where Wendel

is getting hit in the face.

It's very central on the page.

For regular "Wendel" readers,
it's shocking.

You know, we love Wendel.

We don't want him to get hit.

[seagull squawking]

[delicate piano music]

♪ ♪

I decided, well,
maybe I should have

Wendel find himself
in love with a guy

and form a relationship.

♪ ♪

It was an area that had
not been covered a lot,

the actual development
of a gay relationship.

♪ ♪

Wendel didn't have scars
from being in the closet.

Ollie, you know,
had a lot of leftover fears

about consequences
of being openly gay,

had trouble coming
out to his parents.

So that was drawing on the
part of me that remembered

that experience vividly.

There's a sequence
when Ollie finally decides

to come out to his family.

He's being very bold about it.

And he gets his
little mass letter.

You know, and he puts
it in the mailbox

and then has
an anxiety attack, you know,

hugging the mailbox,

and what have I done?

- Ten years or so after I wrote
"Come Out Comix,"

there was a gay and lesbian
comic scene.

It happened so fast.

And it grew so huge.

And I met amazing people.

And suddenly, I had a--

I had a whole wonderful group,

national and international,
around me.

It was very exciting.

[rock music]

- I'm here
at A Different Light bookstore

for the opening
of "Queer Cartoons!" show.

And we have 51 artists
in this show,

168 pages
of fabulous cartoon art.

I put this show together with
my good friend Dan Seitler,

who's a wonderful cartoonist.

And we wanted to
celebrate cartoonists

and the gay artists
that we know and promote--

We got to do pretty much
whatever we wanted.

And that was really exciting.

I'm Jennifer Camper.

And I'm hanging out
here in the bathtub.

[toilet flushes]

[laughter]

None of us made money.

But we had a whole lot
of creative freedom.

- I'm Alison Bechdel.

And I draw "Dykes to Watch Out
For" cartoons.

Another thing that was
terribly exciting to me

about comics was,
no one was judging it.

No one was-- it was like
this free play zone.

[upbeat piano music]

There were absolutely
no rules or limits.

People were drawing
all kinds of naked bodies

and sexual activities.

And the crazier something
could be, the better.

- [belches]

♪ ♪

- I didn't feel like there
was competition,

because nobody
was doing the same thing.

Each of us had
a really distinctive

drawing style and voice.

And we all were talking
about different aspects

of queer community.

♪ ♪

[engine revving]

♪ ♪

In the '90s, every major
city had a gay newspaper.

We were all doing comics maybe
for one or two newspapers.

And then suddenly,
it was like, whoa,

there's 50 newspapers
in the United States

that we could send
our comics to.

[upbeat music]

People got the idea that
we can syndicate our comics.

♪ ♪

- "Windy City Times"
in Chicago,

I think they offered
$25 for each strip.

And I think I thought, oh,
OK, that would really help.

And then you get
somewhat syndicated

to a couple of other papers,
and then they pay you.

Then it starts
being significant.

[knock at door]

I went from having
the strip published

in college, that community,
and then in Portland.

And then when I went
to the Bay Area,

it was published in

a queer newspaper,
"Bay Times,"

and then in "The Sentinel."

♪ ♪

When I left "The Sentinel,"

the biggest step for me
with my comic strip

is when it first started

being published in "SF Weekly."

♪ ♪

It was like
a larger playground.

I realized that I had a unique
voice in those publications

to challenge.

I experienced a lot
in the gay community

as an African American.

So I'm like-- I'm using
this as an opportunity

to talk about these things
that we should be addressing.

[bell dings]

[accordion music]

- From the very
first time I saw

an image of the Brown Bomber
and Diva of the World,

I was just like who is that?

Who are these characters?

I love them.

Upon reading more
of his work,

I was just struck
by the level of analysis

and the intersectionality
that he

was able to portray
in his work,

talking about the experience
of being Black and gay

or being Black and woman.

- To be Black and queer

and only know
about Rupert's work,

Rupert Kinnard's work
two years ago,

at Queers & Comics,
is kind of--

it was profound to me.

But also it made me very sad.

Because I'm like,
how many other Ruperts

are there that I don't know
about that I could have used?

Not only was he
making queer comics

about being Black and queer,
but this was way, way back.

And it's not a new thing.

And it would have been nice
to not have to struggle,

is it OK for me to do this?

♪ ♪

[crowd cheering]

- The differences
between Rupert's work

and my work kind of reflect the
times that we were working in.

You know, Rupert's
characters were very much

directly interfacing with white
characters that didn't get it.

And here and now, as artists,
we don't necessarily

have to put a white character
at the center of the

narrative anymore.

- I'm privileged that I have
access to so many people

who happen to look like me.

♪ ♪

- Everybody takes inspiration
from the generation before.

After Art Spiegelman
came out with "Maus,"

there began to be serious
literary graphic novels.

There was always
the question that,

could I do a graphic novel?

And I thought,
there's been very little

coverage about what gay life
before Stonewall

in the South was like.

[light music]

♪ ♪

And it was all of this
ferment in Birmingham

about civil rights
at the same time.

So I would be able
to cover some ground

that hadn't been covered
in other gay literature.

Going into a project as long
as "Stuck Rubber Baby,"

it was a big, scary step.

I got a contract.

And I had an advance
covering two years.

♪ ♪

But I realized that
to tell this story,

you needed to feel the world
around the characters.

It couldn't be done without
putting time into drawing

in more detail,
with more shading

than I had ever done before.

♪ ♪

I began to panic when I saw
that I couldn't go nearly

as fast as I had thought.

And then I was
thinking, oh, no,

this is going to be
a disaster.

How would I--
how would I pay the rent?

And finally, I just had
to change my attitude,

and I said, well,
I'll just have to take

whatever time it takes.

And it wound up
taking four years.

A lot of people
are surprised that these

are as large as they are.

These are actually
2 1/2 times the size

that they appear in the book.

It allows me to put in
detail the large amount

of cross-hatching
to try to create

a shading, a graduated shading
from lighter to darker.

The book uses a lot of that.

This is an example
of comic book conventions.

So things like,
in this case, the dog,

which intrudes
into the surrounding panels.

The feeling of threat is right
at the center of the page.

If possible,
I like to always have

what I call an anchor panel,
the panel

I most want the eye
to fall on when

the person turns the page.

And in this one,
it would be this.

But they still need to read
the panels that go before

to see how it fits
into the story.

But it gives coherence,
you know,

if you-- so it's not just
a bunch of random rectangles.

In each given layout
for the page,

I tried to suggest
the atmosphere

that's going on in the scene.

Here you have, I wanted
a certain feeling of chaos,

because they're
in the middle of a riot.

[dog barking]

[brakes screech]

[whistle tweets]

[crowd chanting indistinctly]

It was a wonderful
artistic experience,

as financially disastrous
as it was.

♪ ♪

- For a long time,
I kept getting more

gay newspapers every year.

It was like
this growing thing.

I was selling more
of my books.

I was publishing
these collections

of the comic strip.

And then all of a sudden,
in the late '90s,

turn of the millennium,
everything started drying up.

There was the internet,
but there was also

the rise of Amazon.com
and Barnes & Noble, these--

you know,
these chain bookstores

that were changing the
whole publishing landscape,

you know.

Anything fringe
or alternative

or independent was dying.

- "Gay Comix"
stopped publishing.

A lot of us were
doing great work.

But we weren't really
finding places to publish it.

That pissed me off.

So I decided to do an anthology
called "Juicy Mother."

And the cover is
by Karen Platt.

And it's a big gay party.

Each "Juicy Mother"
had a cartoon jam.

And a cartoon jam works where
one person does a panel...

Gives it to the next person,
and they do a panel,

and they give it
to the next person.

And it goes around
a few times.

And you get a whole story.

What's fun about
a cartoon jam is,

you get to draw
each other's comics.

But what's weird about it is,
you don't have control.

And suddenly, you've got
to give up your character.

And somebody else
could kill them off.

So I did a lot of cartoon jams
where I kind of edited them

and brought people together.

And back in the day,
it was all done by mail.

And they're great.
They're crazy.

They're nuts.

And they're a lot of fun.

[upbeat punk music]

♪ ♪

- As the gay ghetto
was crumbling in a way,

there was also the rise
of the punk and DIY movement.

And so people started
making their own zines.

♪ ♪

Maybe you couldn't
get published

by a major publishing house or
even a minor publishing house,

but you could make
your own zine.

♪ ♪

- To make a zine,
all you need to do

is write or draw something,
photocopy it,

fold it, you staple it.

You make hundreds of copies,
and you sell and trade

them with all your friends.

The storytelling became very
personal, raw, and visceral.

Diane DiMassa
did "Hothead Paisan."

And it's one of
the most amazing

little self-published
comics to come out.

"Hothead Paisan" is a
homicidal lesbian terrorist.

And she's filled
with rage.

[upbeat music]

And she goes
through life reacting

to all the injustice
that's around her.

♪ ♪

- She was this-- almost
like a cavewoman unleashed.

She walked like this.

And her hair was like
crazy and sticking out.

And she would get
so angry at men

that she would grab like
a labrys or something

and chop them up
or threaten to.

- We'd get away
with a lot of stuff,

because no one even knows
to stop it sometimes.

They're not paying
attention to us.

There's a lot of freedom there.

- Right now, the emphasis
I'm seeing a lot more

in the zine communities
is about heritage,

about culture, really
more and more artists

who are going back
to their histories,

back to their family history
and saying, "This is who I am.

"This is what defines me,
my identity.

"Yes, I'm a queer person.

But I'm also
this other person."

[light music]

♪ ♪

- So then when
the internet really

became part of
everybody's world,

people started
putting their comics

online and getting responses.

And webcomics became a huge
community for all cartoonists,

particularly for people
who were marginalized.

[light guitar music]

♪ ♪

[bat cracks]

♪ ♪

- I was in Mississippi
for my grandmother's funeral.

And the very next day,
I was on a two-lane highway.

I encountered a car
veering into my lane.

And I turned my steering wheel
sharply and went into a ditch.

It was a freak
accident in that there

was no damage to the car, no
damage to me except my hands

could feel my legs.

But my legs didn't
feel my hand.

Scott had to fly
to the hospital in Memphis.

And there was my mother
and father.

And Scott came into
the room and basically

turned to the nurse and said,
"I'm his partner.

"I'll need a cot.

I'll be sleeping next to him."

It wasn't any of this,
"I'm wondering

"if it's possible that I might
be able to get a cot.

"I'm not sure.

I'm not really related,
but he's my partner."

It was just gung ho.

My father is like,
what the hell?

My mom is like,

really?

She didn't have to be
the primary person.

She got to see my partner
do what partners do.

And boy, was that the beginning
of an incredible relationship

between Scott and my mom.

[indistinct chatter]

[accordion music]

I saw a few of
John Callahan's drawings

and work before I even
realized he's a paraplegic.

♪ ♪

I ran into him,
and he was in a chair.

And that was long
before my accident.

♪ ♪

In no way was he gay, but he
knew of my work in "Just Out."

So we connected
as these two cartoonists.

Years later,
I run into Callahan.

He goes, "What's up with you?"

"Well, there needs to be more
than one paraplegic cartoonist

in Portland."

It was a little bit of
serendipity that I knew him,

because there's this anger

about the way you're treated

and how it affects you
that makes

it fascinating
for me to see how you

represent that in your work.

♪ ♪

- So this is a cartoon that
I was doing at that difficult

period when I didn't know
if I was going to be

able to keep affording--

being able to afford
being a cartoonist.

[telephone ringing]

I was losing newspapers,
losing bookstores.

My publisher said,
"You know, the only sector

"of this industry that's
growing is graphic novels.

You should write
a graphic novel."

And I thought, well,
I've always wanted to tell

this story about my family.

[accordion music]

♪ ♪

After graduating from college,
I was going through

all these old family photos.

And in an envelope
of pictures of me

and my brother at the beach,

there was also a picture
of this young man

in his tighty-whities
lying on a bed.

I had stumbled along
in my blithe, happy way,

coming out to my parents.

I unearthed their dark,
hidden, painful secret...

That my father had had affairs
with other men

and boys, some of his
high school students

over the course
of their marriage.

And then, it was very
shortly after that

that my father died.

♪ ♪

My mom said, you know,
I think he did it on purpose.

[tires screech]

You know, it's hard to pinpoint
the exact causal relationship

between everything.

But yeah, I feel
like if I hadn't--

if I hadn't come out
or if I hadn't told them,

things would have
happened differently.

You know,
he might still be alive.

I don't know.

Writing "Fun Home" was--

it was hard.

And I felt a little crazy.

I didn't know
what I was doing.

I didn't know how to write
a serious story like that.

I had Howard's "Stuck Rubber
Baby" as a model.

But I knew that that had
taken him years and years

and driven him almost mad.

I spent many,
many hours trying to recreate

that blurry color photo.

And then I had to draw,
you know, stuff like my father

in the casket.

I posed for my dead father
in the coffin.

I posed for almost
everything in that book.

I mean, at the time,
it was just a drawing aid.

But it was also a way for me to
enter into the emotional world

of the story.

♪ ♪

- I fell in love with the book.

I was immediately taken
by the mere accomplishment.

Then when
the story unfolded,

it was like
I know this person.

I always wondered
about her background.

Not only is it explaining
things; it's just--

I'm awestruck
with every revelation.

♪ ♪

[telephone rings]

- I wasn't thinking
about it reaching

a mainstream audience.

I didn't know who was going
to read this weird book.

You know, I hoped that the
people who read my comic strip

would be interested.

But even that I wasn't sure of

because it was so different
and weird.

And it was becoming
this much more

literary-sounding thing
that I thought

they might not like.

And then it was
actually successful.

Book critics read it
and reviewed it as a book

and not as a comic book,
you know.

So that was a huge gift
and a part of what enabled it

to reach a bigger audience.

♪ ♪

Because of how comics had been
progressing toward being taken

seriously as a literary
form in recent years,

"Fun Home" made it
over that threshold.

♪ ♪

- "TIME" magazine voted it
one of the Books of the Year.

And I thought Alison has
really reached the pinnacle.

And then the next
thing I hear are

these stirrings of a musical.

♪ ♪

- It is so strange to me.

I don't even know
how to think about it.

Like the butch delivery
woman I saw once

with my dad in a luncheonette,
how bizarre

to see that very private
and what I always

thought was a super
idiosyncratic memory,

to see it turned into this
scene in a Broadway musical.

I mean, I can't even believe
I'm saying those words.

- ♪ Wearing your short hair
and your dungarees ♪

♪ And your lace-up boots
and your keys ♪

♪ Oh your ring of keys ♪

♪ I know you ♪

- It was revolutionary that
the play allowed this child

to have this moment
of recognition

that she's a lesbian
and also of desire, you know?

♪ ♪

- Me and Scott saw it
with Alison.

Then it was nominated
for Tony Awards.

And then she wins.

♪ ♪

- It was crazy.

It changed everything.

And it meant I got
to keep being a cartoonist.

♪ ♪

I'm not even sure whose
life I'm leading anymore.

♪ ♪

- I had met Alison a number
of years before my accident.

Once the surgery was done,
I was in a back brace.

I was longing to get
back to Portland.

Maybe a day or two
after I'd gone to work,

I got a package in the mail.

And I opened up the box,
and there

was a little card saying,
"I heard about your accident.

"And I wanted to send
you a get well card.

"But then I knew other
people might want to be

"involved in it.

Love, Alison."

I thought,
this is from Alison Bechdel.

I remember opening the box
and seeing the very first panel

and then pulling it
and just watching

the whole stream just unfurl.

And it just really,
really touched my heart.

Because I kept
recognizing the style

of cartoonists that I really
appreciated and admired

and remember coming across
the original drawing by Alison,

and actually,
one of my favorite characters

of hers, of course.

I love the whimsy
of the Trina Robbins

panel and Jennifer Camper.

I love the contrast of hers,
how dark they were.

- You're going to have to
figure out the magic of it all.

Here we go.
Do you like that height?

Is that horrible?

A lesser man would
need a hammer.

- I fancied myself as someone

who really appreciated
the communities

that I was a part of.

This was the first time
I so immediately

felt embraced by
the cartoonist community.

There's just something
about being

in that community
where you genuinely don't

feel like there's competition.

All of the ways that
we represent the community

and all of the ways
our work--it's personal.

It's yet one more
thing that I never

want to take for granted.

♪ ♪

- We're no longer
token sidekicks.

Were no longer sad stories.

♪ ♪

- I got my mainstream work
because of the queer comics.

I'm very proud to have my queer
roots and my mainstream roots.

But now,
I can mix them together.

- A lot of the people
coming to buy comics

are actually parents.

And they're looking for
material for their trans kid

who just came out.

That's something that
I definitely did not see

when I started making comics.

[delicate piano music]

♪ ♪

[razor buzzing]

- Queer comics
have really created

a space for complexity
that didn't exist

in a lot of other comics.

The space for
different ways of being

a person of color, different
ways of being gendered.

It was really amazing.

It was like nothing
I'd ever seen before.

♪ ♪

- Up next
on "Independent Lens,"

a community of LGBTQ
retirees celebrate life,

love, and legacies
of resistance

in the short film,
"Senior Prom."

[spacey music]

♪ ♪

- I did not, because
I've been gay from day one.

- Yes, I did.
- I didn't. I was too gay.

- And I was still
doing straight.

[laughter]

- Yeah, I double-dated with
my best friend at the time,

Gary, and I would have
rather gone with Gary.

- Anne has made
a difficult decision

to go to her senior prom,
a big night for most kids,

but a night
most gay teens avoid.

- The junior prom,
semi-formal,

is the best dance of the year.

The rules are simple,
and they are very important.

- Wouldn't you rather go to
the prom with your girlfriend?

- Oh, yeah.

But it wouldn't be allowed.

♪ ♪

- Oh!

66.

- Bingo.
- Bingo.

- Andi.

Okay, let's go check out Andi.

Andi, are you a top
or a bottom?

- I have it on top.

- You're a top, okay.

- My name is Andi Segal.

And I'm 71 years old.

I became gay when I was--
gay, lesbian when I was 17.

I live in Hollywood
in a gay and lesbian village.

Every year we have the prom.

You dress up.

You look your best.

Who can ask for more?

Many of us that are lesbian
and gay or transgender,

they couldn't go
to their prom,

because people are very cruel
in the straight world.

- My name is Nancy Valverdi,

born in March 1932.

I didn't go to anybody's prom
because of my attire.

And I wasn't gonna put on
a dress to please anybody.

♪ ♪

- Did you go
to your high school prom?

- I went, but I wasn't
very happy about it.

This was a heterosexual world.

This is a world where
we can be ourselves.

- Welcome to prom.

[Earth, Wind & Fire's
"Boogie Wonderland"]

♪ ♪

- ♪ Dance ♪

- I love to dance,
and she loves to dance.

- Yes.

- Oh.

- Oh, you got lipstick
on your lip.

- It's good exercise.

It's a sexual release as well.

- Oh, my.

Oh, my.
- Yes.

♪ ♪

- At 88 years old,
I like to sit around

and see other people dance
and see the action.

By the law of average,
I should not be here today.

I grew up in east Los Angeles.

I was the only Latin lesbian
out there.

My friends, you couldn't tell
they were lesbians,

because they didn't dress
like me.

I just like to wear
my male attire.

I was about 17
first time they arrested me.

It was illegal
to wear men's clothing.

I went to jail for that.

It was worth every bit
of everything I went through.

Because now you can wear
anything you want.

- ♪ Oh-oh-ahh-ahh ♪

♪ Dance ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Boogie wonderland ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Dance ♪

- I remember the first dance
I ever had with a girl.

She leaped on me,
and she stuck her tongue

in my mouth, okay?

And I liked it.

I liked it.

I didn't go to straight places
after that.

But it was very,
very hard for us to dance

out in the open.

- Gay people want
to be themselves, flirt,

hold hands, kiss,
just as heterosexuals do.

- Well, we weren't wanted
in the world.

We were scorned.

We were outsiders.

We were outcasts.

I realized I was gay,

but I'd already decided
I wanted to be a priest.

I felt that I had
to hide myself.

I was in the closet
until I broke free.

And when you break that free
there's no going back.

I came out as a gay man
who was going to be a priest.

- We preach in our church that
the people should be proud

of themselves,
proud of being gay,

and all parts of their life,
and being gay is good,

so one should be proud of it.

[crowd chanting indistinctly]

- Everyone should know
that they are worthy of love,

that they have worth
in just being a human being.

[gentle music]

- Raise your hand
if you believe in love.

Do you believe in love?

Well, come on, seniors.

I have something
to say about it.

♪ ♪

- I didn't feel
that I deserved to be loved.

When my mom discovered
that I was lesbian,

she would say, "You're gonna
grow up to be a nothing."

When I started going
to the lesbian bars,

that's where I found myself.

I was just dating, you know,
different women,

and then I met Skid.

♪ ♪

My life began with her.

♪ ♪

I never had anybody love me
the way she did.

And I loved her
because of it.

♪ ♪

She died in 2005,

February 2nd.

When she passed away,
she's gone.

She's not in my bed
holding me

and telling me
that she loves me.

I know that I'm blessed
to have her for 36 years.

You know what? I--all those
years that I had her.

♪ ♪

It was time for me
to move on.

I went to grief group
at the village,

and Nancy was there.

I looked at her,
and I thought,

"My God, she's gorgeous."

♪ ♪

They need to know,
the young ones,

that you can have
lasting relationships

until the end,

that you can make it last.

♪ ♪

- Now we're at the big moment
of the evening

where we're gonna crown
a king and queen

of the senior prom.

[cheers and applause]

We're first gonna do
the oldest.

Who here is between the ages
of 80 and 85?

Raise your hand.

- I look in the mirror,
and I see this older man.

Try and remember
when you were 21, 22, 23.

That's the person
that's inside my skull.

- Gertie and Robert
are our new king and queen.

Come on up.

[cheers and applause]

- We've come quite
a nice distance.

But there's still more to go.

[cheers and applause]

We're here, we're queer,

and we're not going
to curl up and die.

["Dancing Queen" playing]

♪ ♪

- Are you all having fun
tonight?

[cheers]

- Good night, everybody.

- Like a queen.

- Thank you. Good night.

I look forward to seeing
the whole bunch of you

at the next big affair.

Ciao, bambinos.

♪♪