David is | Schitt’s Creek’s impact on queer people

David is

Schitt’s Creek’s impact on queer people

Tomás Loyola Barberis

Imagine a place without the slightest trace of LGBTIQ+phobia. A place where people can be themselves without fear of retribution or violence, where neither sexual orientation nor gender expression (whether in terms of their mere existence or whatever impact, however minimal, they might have on one’s own or any other person’s everyday life or existence) are determining factors or questionable matters. A place where, moreover, being queer is represented in a positive light, meaning its inhabitants can feel personally, emotionally and professionally fulfilled without any barriers other than the ones anyone else might come up against.

In practice, however much it irks us in 2024, this is still a utopia in the real world. Yes, there have been important steps forward, but there are still no guarantees in this area. The figures show there are still high levels of social and institutional resistance, and reality continues to bombard us with acts of violence, harassment and discrimination against people in the LGBTIQ+ community, especially when certain extremes of the political spectrum legitimise such types of behaviour and beliefs.

In fiction, however, such a place does exist, and its name is Schitt’s Creek. The series, created by Eugene and Dan Levy (father and son in real life as well as in the show), offers us a safe, open and heterogenous universe, where everyone has space to grow and to be treated with kindness and respect, despite the major differences that may separate them. In fact, the sexual orientation of one of the main characters is dealt with in a matter of seconds. And a coming-out story focusses on personal fear rather than on any external rejection, with the plot keeping the drama to a minimum, and love and emotions taking centre stage above anything else.

This premise gives rise to an “unconventional” love story like no other we’ve seen anywhere before; two people who love each other and that’s it. There had not previously been any show in which being queer was represented in such a positive manner; not even today, four years after its final episode aired (with the possible exception of Heartstopper, although it does deal with issues of bullying and LGBTIQ+phobia). To start with, they would never have had such a prominent or pivotal role in the storyline. And we can be almost certain that the relationship would have developed to include numerous dramatic plot twists before David and Patrick got to where they ended up.

Just cast your mind back to the suffering in Arizona Robbins and Callie Torres’s relationship in Grey’s Anatomy; or the misfortunes experienced by the protagonists of The L Word and Queer as folk. And I won’t even bother to mention all those shows in which non-straight relationships swung from the extremely tempestuous and/or bloody to the quasi-angelic, where you would rarely see more than a caress or, at most, a chaste kiss.

It is true, of course, that real life is far more dramatic than this sweet and irreverent comedy, but we needed (and still need) to see this sort of positive and transparent representation on screen; both inspiring and emotional in equal measures, where all members of the LGBTIQ+ community might feel safe and free.

Schitt’s Creek, nevertheless, goes far beyond that. David is. Plain and simple. Without questioning anything or becoming the subject of local tittle-tattle. His relationship with Patrick is portrayed so naturally that, in its first scene, where Patrick plays a Tina Turner cover, the big surprise is just how sweet the moment is, rather than some other shock the situation might have caused among the locals.

For all that the relationship is treated with a delicate touch, their love isn’t free from trouble. Like all couples, they have their issues. These are, however, of the everyday variety, and completely unrelated to their being queer. They are simply two individuals who have to learn about each other and learn to communicate with and trust each other. Just like in real life. And that bond between them is sketched out so skilfully that, with their healthy, respectful and loving relationship, they become not only an LGBTIQ+ benchmark, but also an ideal to inspire and represent many others.

With his personal and professional growth, David also moves forward triumphantly, far surpassing whatever minimal expectations we might have had for him and his life path: a spoilt, picky brat, extremely superficial, whose dreams finally come true when and where he least expects it.

As its protagonists have pointed out, this queer story came to a large audience at a point where we had already become attached to the characters, which increased its chances of acceptance and of its message getting through; or simply allowing the subject to be raised in contexts in which it might have otherwise been difficult to do so. This is because the series was allowed to develop as a slow-burner, without the pressures of the major networks. This comes through in the end result and its social impact. The messages the show received throughout its six seasons are proof of the importance of this depiction. It is worth mentioning the letter read in the documentary special Best Wishes, Warmest Regards (available on YouTube), sent by a group of mothers grateful for the visibility the series had given to so many people who had yet to find a mirror in which to see themselves reflected. Grab your hankies!

I have just finished watching the entire series for the second time (along with the special and countless video interviews and award ceremony speeches given by its actors). It’s made me laugh (it really is hilarious) and moved me deeply, once again. All day, I haven’t been able to stop wondering whether the course of my life would have changed had this series existed in my teens. Perhaps not entirely, but at least I would have learnt that there was much more out there besides solitude and suffering, the two states I’d been told would forever burden my life just for being gay. And if a small Canadian comedy can offer that kind of relief, even if just to one solitary person in the world, then its existence is more than justified.