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So often the magnitude of complexity renders us incapable of finding it in the most accessible spaces, making its elusive quality all the more paradoxical. This phenomenon is no coincidence, nor borne of random occurrence. To speak in layers and camouflage has been a longstanding method for both preserving and projecting the voices of the unconventional and misunderstood. It allows for a cathartic outpouring that is protected by subterfuge, preying upon the pedantry of what society considers to be acceptable expression within the pre-ordained boundaries concerning moral code. The hypocrisy of its principal tenet have historically yielded encapsulations that construe mixed signals, ascribing to a self-policing format that produces an quantitative arbitrary threshold.
One of the best examples of this phenomenon exists in what we today label as the Pre-Code era, a period spanning roughly five years from the late 1920s until 1934 where cinema reigned unsullied by moral regulation. Its truth only stretches so far, however; what is often overlooked is that morality is highly subjective. It is exclusively tailored to what has been assigned as the normative majority — and in terms of orientation specifically, heterosexuality. Thus, other interpretations are eschewed and discarded in an attempt to yield to objectivity.
The evidence speaks for itself. Sundry films from the era blatantly exploit these loosened principles. They existed and functioned on two levels. Collectively, commonalities evolved into tradition and tropes, including but not limited to pre-marital sex, prostitution, infidelity without repercussion, racy dialogue, and unnecessarily generous segments specifically intended to showcase and sexualize the female physique. On the individual level, they presented nuanced dissections of relationships that defied tradition and convention, but strictly within the limits of heterosexuality. PRIVATE LIVES triumphantly romanticized infidelity without consequence, benefitting from the sanitized, orthodox and “objective” code of morals employed by Pre-Code Hollywood. Sex and sin were great, fun, and titillating so long as heterosexuality was present. Had PRIVATE LIVES centered around a queer couple, there would have been considerable outrage, and what would have otherwise been considered “fun” and “daring” would be inarguably annulled on account of its sensationally abberant perversion.
Few Pre-Codes explicitly reckon with queerness by definition, speaking strictly to its specificity. While it can be argued that there was a global cinematic movement facilitated by the looseness that defined the roaring 20s, the statues comprising the definition are concrete impositions engendered by regulations that exclusively regulated American films. Regardless, even the foreign made films that dared to court overt queerness were met with heavy opposition and censorship. MÄDCHEN IN UNIFORM (1931) famously received vehement backlash despite the fact that it was released during the height of the movement, and would have been nationally banned had Eleanor Roosevelt not intervened. It’s just one of many astounding examples of the hypocrisy that pervaded the sanitized, one-size-fits-all approach that was employed to promote sexual liberation in acceptable terms.
Emilia Unda and Hertha Thiele in MÄDCHEN IN UNIFORM, 1931
Imagination suffered as a result of this climate. Without the pressure imbued by the legal enforcement of censorship, the majority of visionaries didn’t feel nearly as motivated to defy convention. If sex on screen was permitted, what use was subtlety? Such a tool was unnecessary — why resort to insinuation if the material presented was seen as perfectly suitable for filming? The answer resides with the erasure faced by the queer community. Robbed of any chance to adequately demonstrate their orientation, these artists had to resort to a different methodology. Thus, it is not absurd to hypothesize that queer filmmakers were responsible for planting the seeds of what grew to became the art of cerebral subversion, weaving a narrative of abstractly subliminal elements throughout in order to circumvent danger and discrimination.
As film itself continued to evolve into a sophisticated medium, its purpose underwent a slow yet deliberate transformation. The resulting self-awareness afforded cinema artistic credibility, which in turn contributed to the shifting ideology that movies could amount to more than Depression era pragmatism. While entertainment certainly exists as one of the core motivators for constructing a film, it no longer constitutes the lone, unquestioned ideal. Sex in cinema continues to erect a schism amongst movie-goers, though for decidedly different reasons. Funny that something inherent to our nature and being is stigmatized to the point of invoking guilt through piety and rigidity. But that’s a conversation — while contemporary — for another day that warrants an essay of its own.
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BEHIND THE MAKEUP touts an obscurity so great that it largely remains unknown, even amongst those who fondly frequent the films of the Pre-Code era. Performing poorly upon its initial 1930 release, it is plagued by rudimentary sound design, one of Paramount’s experimental endeavors as they transitioned into talking pictures. Its roster boasts three names who would soon catapult to stardom (Powell, Francis, and Wray) as well as the forgotten Hal Skelly. Yet, for all of its faults and flaws, this deceptively innocuous film epitomizes the art of queer subversion. Its title alone intimates that the story transcends superficial value but concurrently conveys and captures its literal reading. Such a title reads as relevant and applicable when the tangible story does indeed offer an intimate, behind the scenes appraisal of two Vaudevillian clowns and the relative irony of their professions when juxtaposed against their personal lives. However, its broad play to ambiguity leaves ample room for interpretation: for what is makeup if not a disguise? Such a subliminal allegory functions so adroitly that it goes unnoticed without circumspect attention. One question begets another, connecting dots until a cohesive portrait is unveiled.
Hal Skelly as “Hap” in a promotional still for BEHIND THE MAKEUP
Thus, this secondary narrative abstraction begins even before the movie starts, teasing a concept of escapism. This alone is both harmless and reasonable enough to infer — after all, movies have played a considerable role in that very process, granting temporary reprieve through beguilement for those who are struggling in their own lives. Alas, this grants an airtight alias for a queer narrative to not only survive but thrive. The escapism is strictly contextualized for the specific of queer representation, yet the only way from which to glean this is by heavy analysis or experience.
A thorough watch of BEHIND THE MAKEUP reveals that the film’s two narratives are not mutually exclusive, and in fact often overlap. What results is something akin to a funhouse of mirrors — continuity and truth surface through often deceptive means of distortion, occasionally daring to wade into visible territory before retreating once more to the shadows. It serves as a notable — and perhaps unintentional — way of courting the carefully trained eye, pursuing intrigue and investment by way of mixed signals. It was prescient in wielding this tactic, which quite literally transposes the vexing ambiguous illusions into living, breathing cinematic dimension. For once a viewer is aware of both readings, the film’s events shift and contour to complement whichever storyline they chose to. It manages somehow to present its events as dualistically conducive, which conjures an air of ambiguity despite the fact that everything is spelled out directly. The “makeup” in question alludes not only to the garish clown paint that Gardoni (William Powell) and his friend Hap (Hal Skelly) apply for performance, but also to their relationship. What at first appears to be a friendship borne of a singular act of kindness quickly reveals itself to be a recurring pattern of manipulation and exploitation. The two are first introduced by way of chance, as Hap is on a homeward stroll when he first stumbles upon Gardoni. He’s bereft of a home and a job, wandering the streets in resigned stupor. Hap, ever the good guy, immediately offers him refuge with disarming warmth. Though reluctant at first on account of his pride, Gardoni finally agrees to accept Hap’s assistance.
Hap encounters Gardoni (Powell) for the first time.
Hap makes arrangements with his boss to have Gardoni sign onto his act, thus securing him a means of income. He works as a clown in a touring Vaudeville troupe, plenty competent but yet decidedly unremarkable. As a result, Hap has been unable to make headway in his career. He patiently explains the ins and outs of his schtick, which is primarily shaped around what he refers to as “hokum,” or cheap and vulgar humor. Gardoni is appalled by this approach, finding it not only in bad taste but also insulting to the plight of the cultured artist. He rattles off a long list of criticisms that ultimately culminate in assessing Hap’s mediocrity. While Hap is understandably upset by this, he all too readily chalks it up to being well-intentioned tough love and nothing more.
Whether it’s ignorance or willful blindness, Hap continues to find excuses in order to reason with Gardoni’s increasingly bizarre, brusque, and ingratiating behavior. After swiping Hap’s romantic interest, Marie, Gardoni abandons his friend without a word. Hap predictably fails on his lonesome, which effectively costs him his job. Sans hope, work, and girlfriend, he manages to procure a kitchen position at his favorite Italian joint thanks to the help of its owner, who happens to be Marie’s father. The movie then shifts into a pensive lull, centering its focus around the tortured ambivalence of Hap’s sentiments, until he is fortuitously reunited with his old friend. Gardoni has now established himself as a successful comedian, and invites an eager and supporting Hap to watch the show.
There’s a lot to unpack in this seemingly innocuous sequence of events, and it’s all rooted in Hap’s piquant emotional attachment to Gardoni. It is here that the first active glimpses of BEHIND HE MAKEUP’S queer undertones come to surface: for while Hap is undoubtedly miffed by his friend’s behavior, the way he expresses himself reveals that he’s more hurt than angry by Gardoni’s unctuous orchestrations. By this point in the film, Hap has egregiously exploited twice by his friend, which entitles him to anger and frustration. Afterall, every misfortune he has endured was in some way a direct consequence of Gardoni’s actions. Yet, Hap is not even remotely angry; rather, he approaches him in maudlin confusion, far more perturbed by having been discarded than anything else. Though at times he ruminates on the morality of his friend’s behavior, it’s always ephemeral and void of spite. It isn’t long before Hap realizes that Gardoni has now wronged him thrice — first by running off, second by stealing Marie, and thirdly by appropriating his act. Again, enmity eludes Hap, as does self reflection. The prospect of revenge has never crossed his mind, nor has he self-reflected on his own gullibility: rather, he becomes obstinately flummoxed by his friend’s cruel behavior. Every expression and movement intones the same thing: Why doesn’t he like me? Why is he doing these things to me?
Publicity shot of BEHIND THE MAKEUP, emphasizing the importance of the relationship between Hap and Gardoni
Hap confronts Gardoni amicably, and once again readily accepts Gardoni’s half-baked excuse without even so much as a singular doubt. The devout fidelity he displays reveals that his feelings for the other man run deeper than what meets the eye, rooted in homoerotic fascination. Whether he is aware of these feelings is ambiguous and ultimately irrelevant, as director blank makes no efforts to subdue these blatant manifestations of admiration. It’s clear by this point that BEHIND THE MAKEUP is not the love story of Marie and Gardoni, but one that profiles the unrequited affection that Hap harbors toward the other man. As this awareness fully settles in, earlier clues that point to Hap’s homosexuality are resurrected from memory. Upon further examination, his alleged infatuation with Marie appears to be forced, stilted, and above all, superficial. For starters, Marie explicitly tells Hap that she didn’t feel romantically toward him. This establishes a precedent that is known and understood by both parties. Further deduction suggests that Hap has been aware of this for a long time and uses it to his advantage: after all, it affords him the luxury of being able to pine to his heart’s content with the added benefit of knowing that he is spared from any repercussions. Thus, she inadvertently becomes the perfect beard for him, a tangible symbol of his compulsory attempt to ascribe to heterosexuality. It would also explain why he reacts to news of her marriage to Gardoni with relative nonchalance, and his consequently quick rebound.
Even when Gardoni begins to openly cheat on Marie, Hap is not moved to action. The line presented here is distinctly clear. Gardoni’s duplicitous nature has been proven time after time, yet Hap still can’t bring himself to fully and adequately confront him. There remains an inherent reticence that cows him every time. It’s irrefutable evidence that Hap has never genuinely loved Marie, solidifying his unyielding allegiance to Gardoni despite the fact that he is actively degrading her. Again, Hap attempts to mildly broach the topic of her mistreatment by approaching Gardoni, but is disarmed by his affections toward him. This point is driven home by the film’s somber yet subversive ending: in the end, it is only Gardoni himself who is able to successfully put a halt to his scheming. Hap is never able to break the cycle himself, and comes into this newfound freedom by fortuity (which, ironically, contributes to the bulk of why Gardoni chooses to end his life).
This twist of fate resides in a minor yet pivotal character by the name of Kitty Parker (Kay Francis), who bests Gardoni when it comes to exploitative chicanery. Her entrance is unremarkable yet far from understated. We first meet Kitty Parker as she descends the stairs, cloaked in sumptuous robes and enigma. She breezes into Gardoni’s dressing room, where she is revealed to be an adjacent actress in the company who is having a liaison with him. Yet, the dynamic is presented curiously from the start: it is she who is independent and coolly aplomb, regal in stature and demeanor. Gardoni, on the other hand, is excessive in his repeated outpouring of affections toward her. Kitty entertains the notion, yet Francis’ subtle and instinctual style splendidly intimates that her motives aren’t genuine.
Gardoni and Kitty Parker (Francis)
This emotional detachment along with her deliberately androgynous appearance (once again, embodied immaculately by Francis) casts an opaque veil over her sexuality, suggesting that she, too, is queer. She is also presented as being a more heinous and heartless villain than Gardoni, as she coolly ends their affair. Gardoni, desperate and devastated, is only met with further derision when he questions her actions. Her dominance and assertive nature challenges contemporary codes of feminine behavior — it is so much of a transgression, in fact, that she emerges as a foil to Gardoni in a paltry attempt to evoke pity for his character. Whereas none of these traits are inherently detrimental on their own, involving gender changes surrounding connotation. Kitty may partake in a gambling racket and dupe men for her own benefit, which is objectively innocuous: but because she is a woman the merit of her assiduously and self reliance is lost to diminutive villainy. To add insult to injury, her presence is minimal, showing a concerted effort not only to misconstrue her character through general inference while forbidding any developmental detail that could attempt to humanize her. While it is entirely plausible to surmise that she has adopted such a callous attitude was borne out of continual abuse from men. It then potentially becomes a question of survival and drastic measures, offering a considerably more sympathetic interpretation. It would only be logical for her to comport in such a way, especially having developed a hardened exterior as a means of defense.
Kitty as she appears in the scene where she discards of Gardoni; note the trace amounts of smug satisfaction that pervade her general nonchalance
Of course, additionally present is the well-established history surrounding villainifcation and queer representation. This most obviously is conveyed through Kitty, but the considerable character defamation quietly stacked against the timid Hap aligns him with this ideology. In his case, the crimes are of a far different nature than Kitty’s, yet they are conducive in establishing and validating Hap’s queerness. His blind adulation for Gardoni renders him futile and holds him hostage in its vicegrip, and as a result he is punished for inaction borne of cowardice and poor morals: two things that correlate specifically with a derogatory caricature of male homosexuality. Like Kitty, his behavior deviates from traditional social code — where Kitty has gall, he lacks it; and while Kitty is sharp, he is pliable and credulous. Arbitrary freedom of expression, though feasible by definition, is inhibited by attitudes and morals for any individual who ascribes to behavior that is atypical of preconceived notions where gender and sexuality are concerned.
Subtle Subversion
Even the most sophisticated abstractions must pander to upholding illusion in a bid to ensure that its intended subtext is preserved intactly without posing any risk to the reputations or careers of those involved. In a day and age where queer media can be publicly celebrated and promoted (though there’s still considerable work to be done), its relative visability has become so normalized that it’s easy to take for granted. Such a luxury was not remotely feasible back in the days of the studio system, despite the fact that many of its constituents were, in fact, queer. It was an open secret hinged upon a tacit understanding that such individuals were forced to comply with measures such as “lavender marriages” in order to sell and safeguard the persona that the audiences desired. William Haines famously relinquished his career after refusing Louis B. Mayer’s ultimatum that he enter one of these unions in 1933. Thus, being openly queer was a hazard that posed serious repercussions that could ripple far and wide. As a result, extra precautionary measures were put in place in order to ensure a kind of labyrinthine immunity, achieved by way of further abstracting pre-existing abstractions.
William Haines, photographed during the height of his career
BEHIND THE MAKEUP exemplifies this well in its obtusely contradictory attitudes toward queerness, alternately celebrating and vilifying its queercoded protagonists in order to preserve an air of protective ambiguity. The only exceptions exist in its adherence to the tacit sanctions imposed by Hollywood: for everything presented in BEHIND THE MAKEUP save for the moral alignment of its protagonists benefits from subjective pliability. Hap suffers an onslaught of misfortune and deceit from the film’s start right up until the end, and his reprieve is presented in coded terms that work to undermine the sympathetic treatment given to his character. The story’s denouement reconciles Hap and Marie after Gardoni’s demise, subverting the bulk of carefully woven queer subtext attributed to him. Thus, positive portrayals of queerness were only permitted if, in the end, it was rendered void – something most often mitigated by irrefutably concrete evidence of a normative, heterosexual relationship.
Hap and Marie (Wray) pictured together in a promotional publicity still.
Though impractical and oppressive, this strategy was quietly appropriated by queer visionaries to employ and ensure queer representation. The loophole that consequently emerged was equally genius and nonsensical, an extrapolation of the theoretical approach so defty utilized to pruriently establish queer subtext. So long as proof existed within the story that “confirmed” that a character was not queer, there were no limits as to how flamboyant their behavior could be. The resulting solution was a genius outpouring of quiet resistance that thrived off the very intellect of subversion that the studios were attempting to use against them. There were no grounds for punishment if conventions were followed, no matter how ostentatiously queer the character was presented. Hap is a textbook example: his behavior is egregiously queer-coded, consistent until the movie’s very end. The abrupt change in character that transpires reads illogically and deviates from the established tone. What was intended, then, to be a catch-all resolution is interpreted as being a cheap cop-out that fails to convincingly nullify the character’s queerness. What better approach to denigrate subversion than by the very art itself?
Kitty is spared from punishment and despair through similar measures. Despite her vocal admissions of disinterest toward Gardoni, the proof of their affair (as well as her continual male companionship) satisfactorily meets the demands of moral expectations. Thus, because her onscreen comportment establishes her as “straight,” she comes out unscathed. This in and of itself is far more important and fascinating than how Hap’s character is handled, as Kitty’s fate and future is instead left open to interpretation. The leniency she is granted offers a compounded, intersectional glimpse of the disparate attitudes of the time regarding gender and sexuality, with residual traces still extant today. Emotional vulnerability has always played a substantial role in dictating traditional gender boundaries in American culture, which in turn influences how different shades of queerness are perceived. Femininity is grounded in empathy and emotion, whereas masculinity is defined by their absence. This dichotomy is responsible for eliciting contradictory readings of queerness and the subsequent privileges and disadvantages that each one faces. For example, the emotional association with womanhood makes it far easier and safer to approach sapphism in a more flagrant manner; yet, it is this very reasoning that also aids in its erasure. Sure, women can be sensitive and affectionate — but the trope is often normalized to the point where insinuations of romance are dismissively misattributed to depicting friendship and nothing more. Conversely, the absence of emotional literacy engendered by toxic masculinity bestows added risk and repercussion where representation is concerned. At the same time, however, they can also inadvertently validate these queer insinuations, as male friendships are seldom displayed as tender.
Kitty, seen in her gambling glory.
Survival has, is, and will always be central to the plight of queer visibility: and as mentioned earlier, presents equal merit whether its impetus was borne of subconscious or intentional motivations. Acclimation is a byproduct of adaptation, and though it serves a definite purpose, can rob us of perspective and awareness as it shapes our victories and privileges into things we take for granted. We are fortunate to be living in an age where queerness is normalized enough for there to be substantial media recognition — and despite this being a relatively recent development, can feel as if its existed perennially in our minds when, in truth, rampant homophobia and transphobia still permeates the fabric of societies around the world and even in the country. BEHIND THE MAKEUP stands as an important artifact of the not so distant past, a testament to both the innovation of film and the tenacity and ingenuity of a movement that is still very much ongoing to this day.
If you enjoyed this piece, I encourage you to visit my other articles that explore the tangential evolution of cinema and queerness, beginning with this piece on OLD ACQUAINTANCE that can be found here.
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