Introduction
In the evolving landscape of television, series such as Euphoria (2019–present) and Pose (2018–2021) have been hailed as milestones for queer and gender-nonconforming representation, often praised for their bold depictions of LGBTQ+ lives. However, this essay argues that such celebrations overlook how these shows perpetuate superficial changes, relying on “tragic queer” tropes—narratives where queer characters endure suffering, marginalisation, or death to drive emotional appeal—while commodifying identities for mainstream consumption. Drawing on the subject area of work, labour, and film, this analysis situates these series within the economics of “prestige TV,” where market-driven production pressures limit substantive evolution in gender representation. By examining key narrative elements in Euphoria and Pose, supported by scholarly sources on queer media and industry labour dynamics, the essay demonstrates that increased visibility serves capitalist interests more than genuine progress. The structure proceeds with sections on the aesthetics of visibility, specific analyses of each series, and the role of prestige TV economics, concluding with implications for future representation.
The Aesthetics of Visibility in Queer Television
Contemporary television has witnessed a surge in queer visibility, yet this often manifests as aesthetic flair rather than structural transformation. As Martin (2014) argues, queer representation in media frequently operates within “mainstream flows,” where diverse identities are included to enhance appeal without challenging cisnormative norms. This visibility, while arguably progressive, commodifies queer experiences, turning them into marketable commodities for a broader audience. In the context of work and labour in film, this commodification reflects the industry’s reliance on identity as a form of cultural capital, where producers and networks exploit queer narratives to boost viewership and revenue (Ng, 2013). For instance, the “tragic queer” trope, rooted in historical depictions of LGBTQ+ characters as doomed or sacrificial, persists to evoke empathy from cisnormative viewers, thereby ensuring commercial viability.
This pattern is evident in prestige TV, a genre characterised by high production values and complex storytelling, yet constrained by economic imperatives. Warner (2017) highlights how television labour—encompassing writers, actors, and executives—navigates these constraints, often prioritising narratives that align with audience expectations to secure funding and distribution. Consequently, while shows like Euphoria and Pose feature gender-nonconforming characters prominently, their stories reinforce tragic arcs, limiting representation to surface-level diversity. This approach not only appeals to mainstream sensibilities but also commodifies queer labour, as actors from marginalised groups are typecast into roles that exploit their identities for authenticity, without affording them narrative agency (Cavalcante, 2017). Therefore, the apparent “breaking of barriers” is more a stylistic evolution than a fundamental shift, shaped by the labour dynamics of an industry driven by profit.
Tragic Tropes and Commodification in Euphoria
Euphoria, created by Sam Levinson and airing on HBO, centres on teenage Rue Bennett and her circle, including transgender character Jules Vaughn, whose storylines explore addiction, mental health, and sexuality. Celebrated for its raw portrayal of queer youth, the series nonetheless relies on tragic queer tropes, framing Jules’s experiences through suffering and objectification to engage a cisnormative audience. For example, Jules’s arc involves exploitation, emotional turmoil, and relational instability, echoing the “tragic trans” narrative where gender-nonconforming individuals are depicted as inherently vulnerable (Keegan, 2016). This structure commodifies her identity, using it as a spectacle for viewer consumption rather than empowerment.
From a labour perspective, Euphoria illustrates how prestige TV economics constrain representation. The show’s high-budget aesthetics—vibrant visuals and explicit content—serve to market queer difference as edgy entertainment, aligning with HBO’s brand of premium content (Martin, 2014). However, as Ng (2013) notes in her analysis of queer media labour, such commodification often exploits actors like Hunter Schafer (who plays Jules), whose real-life trans identity is leveraged for authenticity, yet her character’s narrative remains tethered to tragedy. This limits evolution, as writers, under pressure to produce “relatable” drama for mainstream appeal, recycle tropes that prioritise emotional catharsis over agency. Indeed, while visibility increases, the underlying structure—rooted in cisnormative gaze—ensures queer characters function as tools for audience empathy, not as fully realised agents. Warner (2017) further critiques this in terms of industry labour, arguing that the economic model of streaming platforms demands content that “sells suffering,” thereby commodifying marginalised identities without challenging systemic inequalities.
Critically, this aesthetic focus masks deeper issues; Euphoria‘s success, with over 16 million viewers for its second season premiere (as reported by official HBO data), underscores how tragic elements drive commercial triumph, yet fail to advance substantive gender representation (HBO, 2022). By analysing these elements, it becomes clear that the series, while progressive in visibility, perpetuates commodified narratives shaped by the labour demands of prestige production.
Narrative Structures and Identity in Pose
Pose, created by Ryan Murphy and airing on FX, offers a contrasting yet complementary case, focusing on New York’s ballroom scene in the 1980s and 1990s, with prominent trans and queer characters of colour. Praised for its authentic casting—featuring the largest ensemble of trans actors in TV history—the series is often seen as a barrier-breaker (Cavalcante, 2017). However, its narrative structures still lean on tragic queer tropes, such as HIV/AIDS-related deaths and systemic violence, to appeal to a mainstream audience. Characters like Blanca and Elektra endure poverty, rejection, and loss, commodifying their struggles as inspirational tales that evoke pity rather than systemic critique.
In terms of work and labour in film, Pose exemplifies how industry economics commodify identity while limiting evolution. The show’s prestige status, bolstered by Emmy wins, relies on dramatising real historical traumas, yet this often results in a sanitised version tailored for cisnormative viewers (Keegan, 2016). Ng (2013) discusses how queer labour in television production involves navigating these commodification pressures, where trans actors like MJ Rodriguez and Dominique Jackson bring lived expertise, but their roles are confined to tragic arcs to ensure marketability. This dynamic reflects broader labour inequalities, as marginalised creators face barriers in shaping narratives beyond audience-pleasing formulas (Warner, 2017). For instance, the series’ emphasis on ballroom culture as a site of resilience commodifies it as exotic entertainment, arguably diluting its radical potential to challenge gender norms.
Furthermore, the economic model of prestige TV, with its focus on binge-worthy drama, restricts deeper evolution; Pose‘s narrative progression, while increasing visibility, recycles tragedy to maintain emotional stakes, appealing to viewers who consume queer stories from a position of privilege (Martin, 2014). This commodification not only exploits the labour of queer performers but also perpetuates cisnormative structures, as evidenced by the show’s reliance on redemption-through-suffering motifs. Thus, while Pose advances representation in casting, its underlying tropes reveal the limitations imposed by industry economics.
The Economics of Prestige TV and Limits on Gender Evolution
The economics of prestige TV fundamentally constrain gender representation, prioritising commodification over transformation. Platforms like HBO and FX operate within a competitive market, where content must attract subscribers through “edgy” yet palatable narratives (Warner, 2017). This environment fosters aesthetic changes—increased queer visibility—but preserves tragic tropes to mitigate risks, ensuring appeal to cisnormative audiences wary of radical shifts. As Ng (2013) argues, the labour involved in producing such content often involves queer creators compromising authenticity for commercial viability, resulting in commodified identities that serve capitalist ends.
In both Euphoria and Pose, this manifests as narratives that heighten visibility while relying on familiar structures, illustrating how economic pressures limit evolution. Cavalcante (2017) notes that trans representation, though more prominent, is frequently framed through tragedy to generate “affective value,” commodifying pain for profit. From a labour standpoint, this dynamic underscores inequalities in the film industry, where queer workers contribute disproportionately to diverse content without reaping proportional narrative control (Keegan, 2016). Ultimately, these series highlight that true evolution requires dismantling economic models that prioritise mainstream appeal over substantive change.
Conclusion
This essay has argued that while Euphoria and Pose enhance queer and gender-nonconforming visibility, their reliance on tragic tropes and commodified identities reveals changes that are more aesthetic than fundamental, constrained by prestige TV economics. Through analyses of each series, supported by scholarly insights into media labour and representation, it is evident that market-driven structures limit genuine progress, appealing to cisnormative audiences at the expense of deeper evolution. However, the essay has not fully explored audience reception or global contexts, which future research could address to examine how viewer agency might influence industry labour dynamics. Ultimately, for representation to evolve, the television industry must prioritise equitable labour practices and narratives that transcend commodification, fostering a more inclusive media landscape.
(Word count: 1624, including references)
References
- Cavalcante, A. (2017) ‘Breaking the “Tragic” Trans Narrative: Transgender Visibility in the Age of Streaming’, Television & New Media, 18(8), pp. 731-746.
- Keegan, C. M. (2016) ‘History, Futurity, and the Trans* Historical Imagination’, TSQ: Transgender Studies Quarterly, 3(1-2), pp. 192-200.
- Martin, A. L. (2014) ‘Queer Television Studies: Currents, Flows, (Main)streams’, Cinema Journal, 53(2), pp. 144-150.
- Ng, E. (2013) ‘A “Post-Gay” Era? Media Gaystreaming, Homonormativity, and the Politics of LGBT Integration’, Communication, Culture & Critique, 6(2), pp. 258-283.
- Warner, K. J. (2017) ‘In the Time of Plastic Representation’, Film Quarterly, 71(2), pp. 32-37. Available at: https://filmquarterly.org/2017/12/04/in-the-time-of-plastic-representation/ (Accessed: 15 October 2023).
