In Berlanti We Trust

All praise Gay-Bee-Cee

A Media Shmedia column

by Scott Patrick Wagner

In honor of the Pope's recent visit, let's talk about gay people. (The Pope doesn't approve of them — what did you think I meant?) There's a funny thing happening at ABC. It's not just become the Home of the Homo; that's been mounting for quite some time, what with the onscreen content of Ugly Betty, Dirty Sexy Money, and Brothers and Sisters, and the behind-the-scenes gayness of Desperate Housewives, Pushing Daisies,, and Grey's Anatomy. No, what's really interesting is that ABC is also becoming the network for a little shot of spirituality. Between the metaphysical meanderings of Lost, the Is-God-Real musings of Eli Stone, and the New Thought and phlanthropic influences of Oprah, ABC is turning into the Place to Go for the Meaning of Life. Even the campy Desperate Housewives had cancer-survivor Lynette (the wonderful Felicity Huffman) hopping from church to church searching for spiritual answers last week.

From an extremely sophisticated sociological Media Shmedia perspective, the most interestingest aspect of all this is where gay ABC and spiritual ABC intersect. Anathema as it might seem to some right-wing brimstone peddlers, there is a historical tradition of the gay folk being the spiritual conduit for the village. Native Americans called them "Two-Spirits," and they were frequently given the roles of healers, medicine men, and seers. And that concludes the Wikipedia portion of today's lecture.

Getting back to TV, there seems to be a singular Two-Spirit responsible for the most impressive areas of ABC's gay- and spiritual-influenced programming. His name is Greg Berlanti and, though his filmography is a bit iffy, his television work is achieving an almost preternatural depth and richness. I first took notice of Mr. Berlanti's work with a short-lived but brilliant series on the former WB called Jack and Bobby. Christine Lahti starred with grace and fury, as a pot-smoking university professor raising two boys, one of whom would grow up to be President while the other would die. It was impeccably presented, and the pinnacle of the show's truncated trajectory was an episode about religion and spiritual expression.

Jump forward to last year and ABC's Brothers and Sisters, a promising new series with a killer cast, created by toasted (I guess I should say "celebrated") gay New York playwright Jon Robin Baitz. Imbuing the show with strong characters and even one integral gay sibling, the show was a stilted, stagey disappointment that apparently was suffering frrom the traits that made Mr. Baitz so toasty in another medium. Enter equally-gay Mr. Berlanti, who injected the show with Rob Lowe and a sense of humor, and now we have an eminently watchable series that has finally returned from its strike-imposed hiatus.

ABC clearly realizes the talent they have on their hands, as Berlanti has since had two other shows green-lit and aired. Dirty Sexy Money is a mixed bag, neither as sharply focused nor as artfully written as other Berlantics. But it does have America's first recurring transvestite (involved romantically with William Baldwin, no less), and the periodic opportunity to watch Jill Clayburgh in action.

The real reason for this seemingly self-indulgent tribute is Greg Berlanti's most recent ABC series, whose short season had its unforgettable finale just last week. The show in question is Eli Stone, and I honestly didn't know what to make of this thing during its early weeks. Its insouciant mix of mystical interpretations and George Michael–obsessed musical numbers (he sang "Faith" — get it?) seemed to be leading somewhere. But maybe not. After all, could one expect a grand spiritual gestalt wrapped in snappy song-and-dance from a network TV show?

Well, my friends, after watching the episodes culminating in a boldly resonant finale, the answer is a definite yes. The ambiguity of whether Eli's predictions were the result of a diagnosed brain aneurism or the acts of a prophet were answered with a startling earthquake in the penultimate show, and a visitation with God in the last one. (And, yes, he did look like George Michael.) It may sound hackneyed in this nutshell description, but the build-up to the culminating events was so masterfully paced, so beautifully realized, that I was quite the puddle of goo when all was said and danced.

So, hats off to spirituality, gayness, and the Pope. And Greg Berlanti. And dance numbers. And speaking of dance numbers, longtime Shmedia readers may recall my overriding obsession with a little Fox series called So You Think You Can Dance? Well, it's returning with a new season next month. I am so excited I'm about to go nonverbal. But you know where I'll be on May 22.