Rock and Riot, written by Chelsey Furedi, is the story of two rival gangs: the Rollers and the Jaquettes. Feuding ever since they were kids, tensions started rising even higher after Rolly decided to leave the rowdy, narrow-minded Rollers for the more welcoming Jaquettes after she transitioned. Shortly after, Rolly draws the attention of Ace, founder of the Bandits, but their relationship isn’t the only one that’s been hiding in the shadows. It turns out the Rollers and the Jaquettes have a lot more in common than they thought.
Why set a love story with queer characters in an era that was intolerant of them?
As discussed before on this blog — and by countless others in other media — representation of queer characters has been advancing slowly but surely. While the medium and target audience of these stories are major factors behind the possibility of actually featuring sexuality diverse characters, an overall popular genre to explore queer people and relationships continues to be slice-of-life since the contemporary, down-to-earth scenarios resonate with many and their own experiences. In a similar yet more appealing genre for some, we have the period piece: a popular genre featuring realistic scenarios set in a past era that ultimately prove that people have always been people. Where do queer characters fit in these stories?
One of the main drawing points of the period piece is its emphasis on hyper realism. This means that not only must the characters, setting, and drama be grounded in realism, but it must depict the truest of realism. The darkness and grit of the times must be heavily showcased to distance the text from sterilized history lessons. At the same time, however, the deeply-rooted ideas that people have of the past must not be completely disturbed because, to the uneducated audience at large, certain aspects of the past might be perceived as “unrealistic,” a conceit on the creator’s part, if you will. This reaction is easy to see within the cries of “forced representation”: the alleged imposition of sexually and ethnically diverse characters in media. Representation is never forced; it is acknowledged and doing so, just like everything else we do, is inherently political. Including queer characters in not only contemporary settings, but also in historical settings normalizes the fact that queer people have always existed.
Rock and Riot is an great example of this reclaiming and queering of history. The 1950s are often glorified in the United States as a kind of golden era: World War II was over; the economy was booming; suburban development was thriving; and most importantly, the aesthetic was on point. The cars, the music, the clothes… It was all so carefree, remembered which such fondness especially after the doom and gloom of the 1980s set in. Conservatives wax poetic about the 50s, but for those that couldn’t conform to the narrow mainstream, the 50s were a time of fear. In the eyes of the public, marginalized groups didn’t exist or had no place in society, which in turn reflects in the media of the time and about it: heteronormative and white-washed. While some may cry historical inaccuracy and forced representation at a story like Rock and Riot, the reality is that, beyond the conceit that these characters lived in relative safety, queer people existed then, with all the emotion, need for companionship, and excellent taste as they do now. We need to see more stories like this.