Even before Hagrid delivered Harry’s first Hogwarts letter, the realm of the fantastical had me in its thrall. As a child I remember devouring Satyajit Ray’s Goopy Gyne, Bagha Byne films—about two ostracized musicians who are blessed with magical powers by a ‘King of Ghosts’. While my love for the fantasy genre remains unabated, what disappoints me is that it does not have greater queer representation. When, a few years earlier, J.K. Rowling revealed that Dumbledore was indeed gay, it almost felt like a gimmick thrown at the realization of her substantial queer fan base. It feels like such a missed opportunity because the very element of fantasy lends itself to subverting the conventions of a normative world.
Then I stumbled across the Netflix series “The Sandman”, which was adapted from Neil Gaiman’s comic book series of the same name. The Sandman aka Dream (Tom Sturridge), is one of the seven ‘Endless’—eternal beings who govern over various aspects of human life like, Desire (Mason Alexander Park), Despair (Donna Preston) and Death (Kirby Howell-Baptiste). At the very outset, Dream is inadvertently captured by a group of occultists led by Roderick Burgess (Charles Dance), and the series follows its eponymous protagonist to his escape and subsequent return to his realm, the Dreaming. Thereon, the narrative flits back and forth between the eternal world of the Endless and where it intersects with the temporal world of humans.
To say I felt like a kid let loose in a candy store would be an understatement. The series upends the trend of tokenistic stand-alone queer characters, by peppering its universe with not only a multitude of queer characters (in all shapes and sizes!) but also queer themes. In the very first episode we meet the Corinthian (Boyd Holbrook), one of Dream’s Nightmares who is wreaking murder and mayhem in the human world. Besides having a taste for fresh human eyes, he also has a taste for human men. Further down the storyline we are introduced to Dream’s sibling, Desire, who secretly fathered a child with a human woman, and is a visibly queer persona. When Dream descends to Hell to retrieve his lost helm, he has to stand his ground before the intimidating Lucifer Morningstar, the monarch of Hell. There is a queer subtext in the presence of Lucifer’s female consort, Mazikeen (Cassie Clare).
The queer figures are not limited to the supernatural realm, but are quite the norm in the human world as well. Both Alex Burgess (Laurie Kynaston), the son of Dream’s kidnapper, and Johanna Constantine (Jenna Coleman), an occult detective in possession of Dream’s sand pouch are shown to have same-sex partners. In the fifth episode, the unhinged power-hungry John Dee/Burgess (David Thewlis) tries the magical powers of the Sandman’s ruby pendant on unsuspecting patrons at a diner. A third of those characters are queer or realize their queerness as the plot progresses. Later, the owner of Rose Walker’s (Kyo Ra) bed and breakfast turns out to be a delightfully queer drag queen, Hal Carter (John Cameron Mitchell).
The show does not simply stop at portraying a wider representation of sexuality, but also plumbs the possibilities of gender expression. An undercurrent of androgyny and fluid gender expression holds up the series. Dressed in exquisite tones of red, Desire stands out as the most memorable example. They have the wiles of a femme fatale, although it is reported that they fathered a child with a human woman. Traditionally, Lucifer is portrayed by cis-het men. However, in a brilliant casting choice, Gwendoline Christie portrays a towering Lucifer. She brings an ominous gravitas and poise to the character, going beyond the confines of gender. With short blonde hair, and dressed in either pristine white or a sinister black structured cloak, Lucifer gives a deliciously androgynous vibe. There are also other examples in Dream’s librarian Lucienne (Vivienne Acheampong) wearing immaculate suits, and Johanna in her androgynous jackets in the human realm.
For once I find myself in the happy situation of being unable to delve into the details of every character and examine them because of the sheer number of queer personas in the Sandman universe. All of these characters have well etched out arcs, instead of their queerness being their only defining trait. Beyond their supernatural element the fantastical personas are also allowed a level of humanness. The so-called evil characters are not stock figure stereotypes, and their motivations in acting the way they do varies. For instance, both Corinthian and Desire are postured as antagonists, but their reasons to defy Dream differ. While Corinthian values his freedom from the authority of his creator, Desire simply amuses themselves by poking fun at their self-righteous sibling Dream.
The Sandman might have a straight love story, with his love interests in the human prehistoric African princess Nada (Deborah Oyelade), and the ethereal Muse Calliope (Melissanthi Mahut). However, on a closer look he lends himself to a queer imagining. Lord Morpheus, as he is referred to, hints at a shape-shifting nature; hints towards his potential to ‘morph’ stories into dreams. Although rigid in his rules in the beginning Morpheus is willing to change the rules of his realm. Thereby he allows the Nightmare Gault (Ann Ogbomo) to evolve into a dream.
The well spread milieu of queer characters in the Sandman universe, firmly posits queerness as the norm. Even beyond the scope of characters and their actions, the very element of changing shapes and stories that is a leitmotif throughout the series creates a fertile ground for queer possibilities to emerge: where the temporary finite world of human facts, collides with the timeless realm of stories and infinite possibilities.
