Stage-to-screen review: The Boys in the Band

Last seen in London four years ago, Mart Crowley's seminal 1968 gay play The Boys in the Band got a Broadway revival in 2018, which responded to the calls to let gay actors be the first choice to play gay roles by using an all-openly gay cast. Given that's something clearly close to TV mogul Ryan Murphy's heart as well, it's not too surprising that he's behind a movie adaptation of Joe Mantello's production that was released as a Netflix original a couple of weeks ago. Michael (Jim Parsons) is hosting a birthday party for Harold (Zachary Quinto,) the only member of his friend group who can rival him for bitchiness. Five more of their friends have been invited, and two unexpected guests also arrive, with one of them, Michael's straight former college roommate Alan (Brian Hutchison,) dredging up such strong self-loathing emotions in the host that he goes on an emotionally destructive rampage.

Mantello's film, which Crowley adapted with Ned Martel, has some minor concessions to expanding its scope from the stage - it opens following its characters around New York as they prepare for the party, and ends with following them as they leave - but largely isn't afraid to show its theatrical origins, consisting as it does of essentially a single long scene of dialogue set in one room.

How bold a piece The Boys in the Band must have been when it premiered is apparent in the throwaway references to raids on gay bars (it predates the Stonewall riots by a year,) to the point that the men are slightly worried that even this birthday party could have the police called on them. It's a constant sense of pressure that perhaps explains why a group of people who do at heart have a lot of love for each other express it through almost constant cruelty and personal attacks. It seems to me quite astute and honest of Crowley to have acknowledged the fact that even those brought together by persecution will release their frustrations by punching down, and he hangs a lantern on the fact that Emory (Robin de Jesús,) the most effeminate, and Bernard (Michael Benjamin Washington,) the only black member of the friend group, are treated as at the bottom of the social ladder and generally sent off to get everyone drinks and food.

The central scene of the film, which essentially forms most of the play's second act, is the cruel party game Michael devises to make everyone phone the person they've always loved, and this is where Mantello's film most effectively breaks out of its theatrical confines to provide dreamlike flashback sequences to accompany the characters' reflections on the, sometimes traumatic with rejection, loves that still haunt them. (And while the Matt Bomer full frontal shot people got excited about doesn't actually happen, this is where there's an actualFULL-FRONTAL MALE NUDITY ALERT!from Mark Thomas Young and Alpha Miknas in Bernard's flashback scene.)

When I reviewed the 2016 production I said it was less bleak than I expected it to be (this isn't the first film adaptation and I may have seen the 1970 version a long time ago, which could be why I had preconceptions.) Whether it's the fact of seeing it on a screen rather than live surrounded by a laughing audience, I did find that although full of funny lines this is overwhelmingly a sad story. Not one devoid of hope though - constantly bickering couple Hank (Tuc Watkins) and Larry (Andrew Rannells) do find a way to genuinely express their love for each other, and though comically dimwitted, Charlie Carver's rent boy Cowboy is an adorably good-hearted breath of fresh air among his more jaded elders. The Boys in the Band has been dedicated to Crowley, who died in March, and as a sad but entertaining couple of hours it provides a fitting tribute and an important way to bring a major piece of gay theatrical history to a wider audience.

The Boys in the Band by Mart Crowley, in a version by Mart Crowley and Ned Martel, is available on Netflix internationally.

Running time: 2 hours.

Photo credit: Scott Everett White/Netflix.