Period pieces like “GLOW” can face a real dilemma: How do you constructively move forward a conversation about racism, LGBTQ culture and sexual harassment of the ’80s, in the 21st century?
“There’s a real trap, especially in period pieces, where you’re revisiting, let’s say workplace harassment, with this 20/20 hindsight, which can be unfair,” says Chris Lowell, who plays the producer turned announcer in the Netflix wrestling show.
Through both its first and second seasons, “GLOW” chose to embrace racist personas, like Welfare Queen and Beirut the Mad Bomber, and didn’t shy away from tackling sexual misconduct pre-#MeToo, and aspects of the LGBTQ experience that were, at the time, unspoken.
“I think one of the smartest things that Liz (Flahive) and Carly (Mensch) did when they designed the show is they very clearly set up different worlds; the world inside the ring and the world outside the ring,” Lowell, 33, says, explaining why he feels the series gets away with material that can be considered politically incorrect.
“It’s highlighting the fact that this was being pushed as entertainment,” he adds, noting the fictional series aims to remain accurate with its portrayal of the cultural environment of the ‘80s.
Decades later, “GLOW,” based off the creation of the real “Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling,” has found itself more relevant — and complicated — than ever.
The series’ second season mixes in a reaction to misconduct that’s difficult to watch in a Time’s Up era. Bash loses his butler Florian to AIDS, but his doctor refuses to acknowledge the disease and funeral homes won’t tend to the body; Alison Brie’s Ruth removes herself from a seemingly Harvey Weinstein-inspired encounter with a director only to be dubbed foolish by Debbie (Betty Gilpin).
“We go into season two and then the Weinstein scandal breaks and suddenly the seemingly old-school plot points that we’re talking about, it reminds you just how relevant they still are,” Lowell says. “There’s a reason that we’re looking back.”
During a visit to the amNewYork offices, Lowell reflects on how the series tackled these issues in its second season and what it may mean for a third season.
“GLOW” dabbles in issues prevalent in the ‘80s, which is considered the rise of the Trump real estate era in NYC. Today, with Trump as president, these topics are at the forefront of the conversation. Does this make “GLOW” a timely work?
I think that “GLOW” is frighteningly relevant. You want to look at the show and think that the misogyny, the sexual harassment in the workplace, the racism is something that stayed in the ‘80s along with the shoulder pads and the legwarmers, you know?
When we first started shooting in season 1, there was just this real sense of bliss on set … then Donald Trump got elected and the next day coming to set was much darker, but it suddenly made the show and what we were doing a lot more significant.
How does “GLOW” get away with finding comedy in the culturally insensitive?
These were cultural norms. These weren’t even offensive at the time. Outside of the ring, you get to see how all of these people are dealing with the sexual exploitation or the misogyny or the racist undertones. And I think you get to see how all of these characters are grappling with them. Some, it’s no big deal. Others, it’s extremely difficult to rationalize. How can you be a self-respecting woman and then go in the ring and perform and say these things? And I think that (“GLOW”) creates really beautiful perspectives in all of these different difficult social discussions.
Like the sexual harassment scene with Ruth?
What I love about that is (after standing up for herself) she then goes to Betty’s character, Debbie, and you get to see the perspective of the time, which is Debbie being like, “You have to play the game. You have to come up with a reason not to sleep with them, but let them think that you still want to.”
And just to have the perspective of, is that really how much gymnastics you had to do just to survive? And is that maybe still the kind of gymnastics you have to do to survive as a woman in the workplace?
You had a rewarding plot progression this season, with Bash coming into his announcer role, dealing with a death and ending it all with a cliffhanger wedding.
Yeah, it’s great. You know, it’s not often that a half-hour comedy takes on the AIDS epidemic in an episode or two and I think there are so many ways to do that wrong. It was really masterful the way that Liz and Carly executed it. One of the simplest decisions they made, but one of the most effective, is that you never say the word AIDS, it’s all referenced. I think that is very reflective of the time, because it was such a taboo subject. To take on something so significant is really a great gift.
Do you think Bash’s wedding is simply a reflection of him railing to deal with his grief and come to terms with his identity, or something more?
I don’t know that I have an answer to that question and I don’t know that there is one. I think that at the end of the season, Bash is trying to wrap his head around the death of his oldest friends and how he died and what that says about him and his sexuality.
I think there’s such pressure that he’s putting on himself that rather than confront these issues and try and answer these questions, he just runs as far away as possible. When there’s an opportunity to get married to Rhonda, without thinking about it, he just throws himself into it because it seems like a quick fix. I’m really interested to see where that takes us or where that takes him.
