When the general public thinks of comics, their minds will more than likely go to the Marvel Cinematic Universe or the DC Comics Universe. They may even mention classic comics like Marmaduke, Garfield, Family Circus or Beetle Bailey — but it is rare that we see the impact of the queer comic movement. Directed by Peabody Award-winning filmmaker Vivian Kleiman, No Straight Lines introduces us to this overlooked segment of the industry as she follows five queer comic book artists journey from the underground comix scene to mainstream acceptance.
Featuring Alison Bechdel, Jennifer Camper, Howard Cruse, Rupert Kinnard, Mary Wings, and other queer comics artists, No Straight Lines, which premiered on PBS in January, comes from Justin Hall’s award-wining book of the same name. It tells the story about these cartoonists who depicted everything from the AIDS crisis, coming out, and same-sex marriage, to themes of race, gender, and disability. They put queer lives into the spotlight — with humor as they portrayed the LGBTQ community and their everyday pursuits of love, sex, and community. No Straight Lines takes a unique, informative and uncensored window into LGBTQ lives from the 1970s onward, beginning at a time in which there was no other genuine queer storytelling in popular culture.
GLAAD had the opportunity to chat with Kleiman about her connection to the world of queer comics, the journey of No Straight Lines and the significant contributions queer comics artists contributed to the LGBTQ community.
GLAAD: What was your gateway into this world of queer comics?
VIVIAN KLEIMAN: In the 80’s Alison Bechdel’s long-running comic strip Dykes to Watch Out For was published in our local feminist newspaper, Plexus. To see our daily lives, with the innocence and complexity of characters and stories, was enormously impactful. All the issues of the day – from looking for love at a bookstore, to going to DC to protest President Bush’s policies – were contained within the panels of those strips. It was so affirming to see ourselves reflected in those publications.
GLAAD: How long did the idea of No Straight Lines sit with you before you finally said, “I have to make this documentary”?
KLEIMAN: Queer comics historian Justin Hall had teamed up with filmmaker Greg Sirota to make a film on the pioneers of queer comics. After some filming, it was clear they weren’t getting traction with fundraising, and subsequently asked if I wanted to take on the project. Quite frankly, I hesitated because pretty much the extent of my involvement in comics was with Alison.
It was the first Queers & Comics conference in NYC that changed me. After listening to Howard Cruse deliver his keynote talk, I knew this was the outline of a film that would present queer history in the US through his personal experiences, and also present the framework for a film that speaks about challenges faced and then overcome. Those are powerful stories for a new generation to hear.
GLAAD: How did you go about finding and choosing all the artists and interview subjects?
KLEIMAN: It was a painful process of elimination because I knew from the get-go that I wanted to limit the number of artists who are profiled in the film, and thus create a more intimate experience with the viewer. I also knew that the film must include Alison Bechdel whose graphic memoir Fun Home was on the New York Times bestselling list for almost a year, and brought queer comics to mainstream readers.
The late, great Howard Cruse is described by all as the “Godfather of Queer Comics” so that earned him a seat at the table. His description of the Comics Code Authority and its restriction on any mention of homosexuality, helped me understand how the Underground Comix scene got started. I had known Rupert Kinnard when he lived in Oakland in the 80s. A Black gay man from Chicago, Rupert was a great story teller who had a powerful story to tell. The pioneering Mary Wings of course created the first queer comic by an out LGBT person. And finally, Jen Camper, a self-described badass feminist, is totally irresistible.
GLAAD: What was something that you learned while making this docu that surprised you?
KLEIMAN: When I was young, we all thought older people are just that – both old and out of touch with things. So imagine my astonishment to hear the Next Generation artists in the film praise the work of those who came before them, and helped blaze a trail. Their appreciation for the path the pioneer artists blazed, and the admiration for their work, in all honesty took me by surprise.
GLAAD: How do you think the queer comic movement influenced the comic world as a whole?
KLEIMAN: For the longest while, there was a cavern that divided the two worlds – queer comics and mainstream work. Then slowly, the Marvel and DC comics saw the general acceptance of queer characters in comics, and started to include them in the mainstream works. As Ivan Velez, Jr says in the film “It’s thanks to my queer comics roots that I could get work in the mainstream comics world.”
GLAAD: HIV and AIDS are part of LGBTQ history that will forever be difficult to talk about, but it is a part of our history that we continue to learn from. We have seen these narratives in film and TV many times, but how did you want to mindfully frame AIDS within the documentary?
KLEIMAN: I knew that the landmarks of queer history in the US had been covered by many documentary films over the decades. But each generation needs to hear their “Genesis story” from a new vantage point. One day I had a realization. Given that the film is about comics, we should use the vernacular of comics to trace their history. That moment of insight led to a series of aesthetic decisions that culminated in a new filmic approach: to tell the story of the AIDS crisis through the language of comics, So we see comics that are gut wrenching sagas of pain and loss, but we also see comics that keep a sense of humor about the epidemic. It’s a remarkable range of reactions to the AIDS crisis.
GLAAD: When do you think art as activism works the best?
KLEIMAN: Over the years, documentary films have demonstrated their capacity to be powerful tools for social change. Usually, their impact penetrates the deepest when the outreach campaign is with a major organization with members who care about the issues in the film.
Towards that goal, we are now in discussion with the national leadership of a few organizations to use No Straight Lines either for advocacy work, for groups to have discussions, or just for regional groups as a fundraising event, or just to have fun.
One idea is to have a major screening of No Straight Lines on a college campus in de Santos’s backyard in Florida. It would be a high-profile event to attract the attention of the press and disrupt the extreme conservative effort to make us invisible.
GLAAD: How do you think No Straight Lines peaks to where you are at in your career as a filmmaker?
When I was creating No Straight Lines, I took a risk and spent a day filming an experiment at the second Queers & Comics conference. It was a remarkable day of inviting a random selection of Next Gen artists to do quick 10-minute interviews in a side room at the conference. These mini-conversations were startling fresh and eye-opening. And after much trial and error, the editor and I found a way to weave these comments into the narrative without sticking out like a sore thumb. As a result, the film was infused with a vitality and heightened relevance that had been missing. I am starting to think of how to incorporate a similar aesthetic motif – to punctuate the narrative with what might seem like extraneous material – in my next film.
GLAAD: What do you hope people take away from No Straight Lines?
KLEIMAN: We always want people to have a good time but also to think about the power of self-representation, and having the media include representations of LGBTQ people that accurately reflect our lives.