‘Jungle Cruise’s’ Gay Character Is Yet Another Baby Step From Disney

In Disney’s Jungle Cruise—which released today in theaters and on Disney+ with Premier Access—Jack Whitehall‘s character has interests that “happily lie elsewhere.” In other words, he’s attracted to men. He doesn’t want to have sex with women. He’s gay.

It’s another step from Disney toward LGBTQ+ representation that feels big in the context of the oppressively heterosexual corporation—certainly, it’s an improvement over some of the laughably meaningless Disney “gay moments” in recent years—but small in the context of the year 2021. After all, it’s been 11 years since Kurt and Blaine kissed on Glee, 16 years since Brokeback Mountain was nominated for Best Picture, and 23 years since Will & Grace premiered on NBC. This is hardly the first time mainstream America has seen a gay man on a TV or movie screen. Yet Disney—the biggest, most lucrative movie studio in the world—has only recently begun to acknowledge the existence of non-heterosexuals in its films. Jungle Cruise is the latest example of Disney not so much marching forward with pride but reluctantly dragging its feet into the 21st century.

While the phrasing is coy, the scene where Emily Blunt’s on-screen brother comes out is, at least, fairly definitive. McGregor Houghton (Whitehall) had already been coded as a gay man, somewhat stereotypically, throughout the film—fussy, effeminate, and a little too into skincare. He’s the polar opposite of Dwayne Johnson’s character, the tough guy riverboat captain named Frank, who has agreed to escort McGregor and his sister, Lily, down the river in search of a magical petal. (Don’t ask.) But about an hour into the film, Frank and McGregor share a quiet moment together, in which McGregor reveals—in so many words— that he recently came out as gay to his family.

“It was the third time that I had been presented with a marriage with a charming, educated woman who sits on a horse well,” McGregor says. “But I had to tell the lady in question that I couldn’t accept the offer, or, indeed, any offer, given that my interests happily lie… elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere?” Frank clarifies.

“Elsewhere,” McGregor confirms.

“Huh. To elsewhere!” Frank takes a swig of his flask and offers McGregor a drink.

McGregor accepts, smiling, and then—dropping some of his coyness—describes how his family and friends reacted to the news. “Uncle threatened to disinherit me. Friends and family turned their backs. All because of who I loved. I would have been ostracized from society, were it not for Lily. She stood by me. And for that, I would follow her into a volcano.”

In all honesty, it’s a touching scene, and one of the few honest character moments in the film. It’s not just that this moment confirms that McGregor likes men, it also makes him feel like a real, lived-in human being. Yes, he’s a campy comic relief character, but also, he has a backstory! He has baggage! He has an emotional bond with his sister! But once it’s over, it’s over. McGregor’s sexuality is not alluded to or shown again for the rest of the film.

Over the last five years, Disney has made a lot of empty promises when it comes to queer characters in its films. In 2017, Beauty and the Beast director Bill Condon promised an “exclusively gay moment in a Disney movie,” which turned out to be a two-second shot of LeFou—as played by Josh Gad—dancing with a man in the film’s final ball sequence, just before the credits roll. Two years later, Avengers: Endgame co-director Joe Russo revealed the film would feature the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s first-ever openly gay character, which turned out to be a random dude (played by Russo) using male pronouns to refer to his romantic partner. A few months later, Star Wars fans were teased with LGBTQ+ representation in The Rise of Skywalker, which was a literal blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kiss between two nameless women among a crowd of cheering extras. They didn’t even get any lines.

Unsurprisingly, the queer community has not responded with gratitude to these gay bread crumbs from Disney. In an essay for Vanity Fair, K. Austin Collins argued that the Star Wars kiss—and Disney’s other after-thought queer moments like it—might technically be steps forward for Disney, but are so far behind the rest of the world, they are barely even worth noting, let alone celebrating. Perhaps the corporation has been listening to these criticisms, because Whitehall’s character in Jungle Cruise is, at the very least, a step up from the minuscule moments listed above.

Unlike in Avengers or Star Wars, McGregor is a character with names and lines and even a significant role in the plot. Unlike in Beauty and the Beast, his “gay moment” is an actual, honest-to-God scene that lasts for longer than two seconds, and is not thrown in at the very end of the film. For once, the filmmakers didn’t proudly announce “Disney’s first gay character” while patting themselves on the back for “representation.” (Whitehall, when asked by a reporter, carefully said that he was “proud of the work he’d done,” but wisely avoided the r-word.) There’s even a good excuse to avoid the word “gay,” given that Jungle Cruise takes place in the early 1900s, a time when the term “gay” usually meant feeling happy and nothing more. Yet while it’s a step in the right direction, Jungle Cruise still feels miles behind the rest of the world.

Some may argue—reasonably so—that a movie about a magical tree and ghosts is allowed a gay anachronism or two. Personally, I care less about hearing the word “gay,” so much as I care about being shown that McGregor is actually attracted to men. And in this regard, Jungle Cruise falls short. Despite the Rock’s impressive physique, there are no lingering looks. There’s no spark between McGregor and one of the fake island natives who appear in the movie. While Johnson and Blunt share a painful kiss, despite their lack of romantic chemistry,  McGregor doesn’t get even a hint of romance. Instead, McGregor is the butt of jokes for being the scared, foppish one. (Whether Whitehall, who is straight, was the right casting choice for the role is another conversation entirely.)

Compare that to Netflix’s big-budget action film, The Old Guard, a movie in which one man declares his love for another in an impassioned speech, and then kisses him—with heat—about halfway into the film. While neither character has an explicit “coming out” scene, their love is the emotional heart of the film, rather than a one-off scene that could be easily cut out. As a result, The Old Guard was embraced by the queer community with open arms and became a hit for the streaming service. If Disney wants to be groundbreaking—if the company truly wants to reach out to its LGBTQ+ fans—it should be taking notes from Netflix. Jungle Cruise may be a step forward, but the company still has a long way to go.

Watch Jungle Cruise on Disney+