Sex Variants of 1941 – 15 November 2024

Sex Variants of 1941 was full of emboldening and empowering moments that were reassuring to the queer community in our post election haze. It was the perfect time to remind the target audience that queer people have always been part of the fabric of society and have survived intense scrutiny at junctures where mere existence has been illegal. The inclusion of the verbatim structure was important, interesting, and validating. Equally important, the fictionalized moments kept the audience engaged and clarified the significance of the publication of the interviews and conclusions in the actual book of the same title. This made the mixed nature of the ultimate conclusion on sexuality disappointing, but the consolation prize of lack of differences in gender puzzling, as today, more than 80 years later, gender differences are still under a microscope, while sexuality is increasingly accepted.

The content of the show felt meaningful, but because of sound issues, I struggled to feel an emotional arc. The show is doing vitally important work in deconstructing the gender and sexuality spectrums, and, as a former audio engineer, I firmly believe that these sound issues are fixable—once they are fixed, the show will be able to truly soar as an experience that holds space to be riotously funny, deviously enjoyable, soberingly sad, and crucially demystifying. I felt that the audio issues hindered my ability to connect all of the dots between moments, but gave me enough to appreciate the effort, meaning, and purpose. I also think the show deserved better in lighting and scenic elements, though projections were spot on.

The campy ending of “let’s all get naked and gay” was meant to end a serious examination of the misunderstood in a way that was celebratory. With actors shedding clothing and dancing in the aisles, this actually felt to me like a moment of desperation, suggesting that if we all band together and flaunt our identities, then we will find a way to keep laughing our way through the world. It felt like desperation, because people trying to do exactly that have been documented as early as 1941 if not earlier, and I felt a twinge of sadness knowing that it really isn’t that simple and we all have to go home to an uncertain world. The people who agreed to be interviewed and medically examined as part of the 1941 study were brave, but 80 years later when transgender people go for hormone replacement and surgical consultations, and are still told that there’s not enough data. The people who danced to gay anthems at the Pulse Nightclub aren’t here anymore. Today in the United States of America, drag bans—literal bans on the cut of a person’s clothing, are returning to a world that threw out that archaic idea a long time ago. And, saddest of all, women like Jan Gay are still struggling to break through the glass ceiling to be recognized and credited for a lifetime’s worth of hard, dangerous, important work.

What I took from this show was that gathering data and drawing conclusions is a first step, but if no one picks up the work and keeps going, the collective knowledge in the world doesn’t make progress because others are also starting at square one. I sincerely hope that Sex Variants of 1941 helps current researchers understand that there is already a square one so that they can read the book in its entirety and start further along in the process in ways that will lead to real progress. I’d like to see a future where singing, “let’s all get naked and gay” doesn’t feel campy, subversive, and sad—I want it to feel normal. I thank The Civilians for bringing this piece into the light right now, because not only do we need a reminder of the history of our existence, we also need a reminder of how much work is left to be done.

I attended this performance on a press pass from Helene Davis PR.