The Birdcage turns 25: Celebrating one of the greatest, gayest mainstream comedies ever made

Anne T. Donahue and Peter Knegt each write regular columns for CBC Arts, and when Peter discovered Anne had never seen The Birdcage, he asked her to watch it so they could celebrate its 25th anniversary together.

Peter Knegt: Anne, we are gathered here today to celebrate a movie I felt betrayed and bewildered to learn you had not watched all the way through in the 25 years since it was released. I have been told this was corrected this past weekend, and I hope you understand now what you have been missing by keeping yourself from the glory that is Mike Nichols's The Birdcage? 

Anne T. Donahue: I have lived a long and storied life, and I have no regrets outside of my choice to wait for this past weekend to watch The Birdcage. Peter, it's a masterpiece. It's so funny. It's so smart. It's filled with heart and love and an aesthetic I now plan to model my entire life on. (I will think about that rooftop pool every day until I die.) The Birdcage really touched my heart, and I wish I'd seen it so much sooner.

I also wish I had a better excuse for taking this long to see it! Fact is, I was 10 when it came out, and very comfortable in my world of G- and PG-rated films. I also had a mushroom cut, and my favourite TV show was Home Improvement, so while I'll never apologize for my long-standing crush on JTT, I should've known there was more out there. When did you see it? And what did you think-slash-feel when you did.

PK: I'm so glad you loved it and take back any judgment for you taking so long to find your way to this love. All that matters now is that you're here now — because I hold this movie tightly and am very protective of it. I have seen it roughly 25 times? And every time, I'm nervous it will all of a sudden not hold up. But with one major exception we'll get to soon enough, it always does. The performances are, across the board, comedic genius, and Elaine May's screenplay (which adapted the 1978 Franco-Italian film La Cage aux Folles) is basically perfect: sparkling, fabulous and with some wildly progressive social messaging for a mainstream studio comedy released in 1996 (or even 2016, for that matter).

As my manic declarations may have already suggested, there's some deep-rooted personal attachments going on beneath the surface here. My mother rented The Birdcage when it came out on VHS in late 1996 and asked me if I wanted to watch it with her. As a closeted 12-year-old, who had told no one he was gay, I was terrified. She had said our mutual love of Robin Williams — who at that point was just coming off a string of child-friendly much less (overtly) gay hits like Aladdin and Mrs. Doubtfire — was her reasoning for suggesting this, but I wondered if it was a trap? 

I don't know if my mother knew what The Birdcage was really about, but I read my Entertainment Weekly and was well aware. But Anne, here's the really nice thing about this story: we watched the movie, we both laughed a lot and ultimately proclaimed our love for it, and that was that. We didn't talk about how it was the gayest thing either of us had surely ever seen. But for the first time, I saw a big star-filled movie with multiple happy, healthy gay characters in which none of them died. And the movie itself … seemed to be on their side! I mean, Nathan Lane's proudly effeminate Albert is really the film's hero. And this was really my first inclination ever that my mother couldn't be homophobic. If she loved The Birdcage, she must have the capacity to love gay people! And whenever I watch it again — in addition to marvelling at the cast, the one-liners, the costumes and the production design — I'm reminded that, as it turned out, my mother did have that capacity!

Sorry, this was a detour. But, like, you get where I'm coming from now. And now that that's out of the way, we can move on to less earnest and ultra-specific reflections on The Birdcage!

ATD: Peter, I LOVE THAT. Honestly, that's what a wonderful movie should be. That's how it should feel! This warms my heart in so many ways!

I had no idea what this movie was about until I started it. I knew the cast was amazing; I knew it was an iconic feature; and I knew I should be ashamed I hadn't seen it yet. But here's the thing — and it's like you said: it holds up! It holds up so hard! Yes, there are a few issues that we'll clearly get to, but Gene Hackman's character feels like a page out of the current GOP (which is infuriating and heartbreaking at the same time). There's also the root of the relationship between Robin Williams's Armand and Nathan Lane's Albert, which is this profound and lasting love. These men genuinely care about each other, and even when bickering, their admiration and affection still shines through. It's beautiful! Plus, their concerns over the course of the movie are so valid: they don't want to be anybody but themselves, especially since it took them so long to get there. When Armand tells Val it took 20 years for him to reconcile his identity and he wasn't about to squash it, it's impossible not to feel his frustration and hurt and that need to convey to his son how much work it took for him to finally embrace who he is.

To be honest, I was so angry at Val for most of the movie. GOP in-law be damned! You don't tell somebody — let alone your father — to hide their sexuality or their essence or their spouse or any aspect of their life just to appease someone who's built a career on discrimination. And he's not even appreciative of Armand's efforts! Like, buddy, you're a grown-ass man. If your family's not good enough for somebody, then they can absolutely hit the bricks.

I will say, though, Calista Flockhart in this role is absolutely delightful (even if I wanted to scream into the rented crucifix when she nearly ditches everyone). What say you?

PK: So I basically have two major issues with the movie. The first is Val. He's so mean! And then when he all of a sudden decides to emotionally proclaim how proud he is to be part of his family, it just feels like a forced character development I couldn't quite buy. He's also played by Dan Futterman, who I feel is the only weak link in the cast. Obviously, it's daunting to be a young, relatively unknown actor and have to work alongside one of the most stacked casts ever (we haven't mentioned Dianne Wiest and Christine Baranski!). But as you say, Calista Flockhart (who notably was 32 years old at the time, while her character is just 19) pulled it off, so why not Dan? Fun fact, though, a decade later he'd get an Oscar nomination for writing the screenplay for Capote, the same year Grant Heslov (who plays one of the paparazzi in The Birdcage) got nominated for co-writing Good Night, and Good Luck. Seems like acting on that set proved a master class in … screenwriting?

My other major issue is of course, the elephant in the birdcage: Hank Azaria's casting as Armand and Albert's why-did-he-need-to-be-Guatemalan housekeeper, Agador Spartacus. It's uncomfortable to watch in part because Azaria — no stranger to being a white actor playing non-white roles (see Apu on The Simpsons) — is, like, spectacularly charming. Sadly, this kind of problematic casting was not unusual in 1996 (or even more sadly, 2016), but it's still very unfortunate because the movie is otherwise so ahead of its time.

ATD: I love the Capote and Good Night, and Good Luck shout-outs because I absolutely learned this while creeping the cast intently post-watch and combusted with joy at this information. (Good Night, and Good Luck is one of my favourite movies! Let's talk about McCarthyism forever, please!) But anywho. Did I have a crush on Dan Futterman in this movie? Absolutely, because I have a crush on Dan Futterman (even in his turn on Sex and the City when he played the pastry chef Charlotte saw briefly and thought might be gay). But also, he sucked as a character. He's a whiner, and he's weak, and his declaration of familial pride came way too late and after hurting way too many people. Honestly, if I were Barbara, I'd be appalled that he'd be willing to send his dad's partner away and to force them back into the closet just to appease my bigoted dad. Because that's the thing about Val: if he's that willing to purposely hurt the people who genuinely love and care about him and so quickly, what else is he willing to do? Like, is he just going to get worse? Because I bet he is!

(I still love you, Dan Futterman! It's not your fault Val was such a drip!) 

And then, oof, yes — Hank Azaria. Man. OK, I do need to state that Agador Spartacus is my new favourite character name ever, and hearing it repeated over and over is the stuff of my text alert dreams. Also, his physical comedy is magnificent, and his inability to wear shoes will be something I hold close to my heart in moments of personal strife.

But also: he's playing a Guatemalan man. And this sucks! There's no reason for him to be Guatemalan! It's not like there was an intense backstory about his Guatemalan heritage or any other logical explanation outside of "I bet it would be funny for Hank Azaria to have a Guatemalan accent!" Which I get is likely a very 1996 conversation to have happened, but it bums me out massively because like you said, so much of this movie ages perfectly while this feels like a massive scratch on an otherwise perfect and beautiful car. It's really culturally insensitive, and it didn't have to be — and that's what's frustrating. I mean, he could've played anyone! He could've just been an American dude from Wisconsin. There were options! It didn't have to be this way! The man is a master of voice work. There was potential waiting to be tapped.

Oh, and before we go, can I quickly freak out about the lack of Oscar love for this cinematic masterpiece? It got one nomination: production design. Like, why don't I just load my pockets full of erotic bowls and drown myself in terrible soup. How were Robin Williams and Nathan Lane so overlooked? How was there not a screenplay or directing nod? I'd like to be optimistic and think that if it were released today, we'd see more accolades for what The Birdcage deserved. But then again, the Golden Globes couldn't even coordinate Zoom calls, so what do I know?

PK: Anne, you are preaching to a one-man choir, who has been singing about these snubs to the gay hilltops since 1997! Williams, Lane and, honestly, even Hackman and Wiest were all worthy of nominations. And how they passed up an opportunity to nominate the legend that is Elaine May for best adapted screenplay, I will never understand. Especially because this movie was, like, a huge commercial and critical hit. It made $185 million (in 1996 US dollars), holding the record for the highest grossing film with a lead LGBTQ character for a whopping 23 years (until [inserts dagger to heart] Bohemian Rhapsody beat it two years ago). Dare I say Academy voters were uncomfortable voting for a queer movie where the characters don't die of AIDS or get murdered? Or were they just not down to reward comedy, a genre that for whatever reason some deem inferior to others despite it being way more difficult to pull off than drama. I mean, it's not like they historically have had issues doing both things!

Either way, it at least warms my heart that in the Oscars of both our hearts, justice was served to one of the gayest, greatest mainstream comedies ever made.

Queeries is Knegt's weekly column that queries LGBTQ art, culture and/or identity through a personal lens. Anne-iversaries is Donahue's bi-weekly column that explores and celebrates the pop culture that defined the '90s and 2000s and the way it affects us now. You can check out a few editions of both below.