Twenty-nine years ago, Jonathan Demme’s film Philadelphia was hailed as something of a Hollywood milestone: a major studio film about homosexuality and Aids, with a gay male protagonist who was both sympathetic and HIV+. Its breakthroughs were, however, all couched in compromise, steering the film cautiously toward a straight audience.
Director Jonathan Demme was straight; so was Tom Hanks, a canny choice for the lead. That he was straight was a given, since the film needed an A-list star to sell itself to the public, and the options then didn’t extend into the LGBTQ sphere. (They barely do now.) But Hanks was branded as an affable, approachable screen presence, one whom timid audiences could just about stomach watching as he chastely kissed Antonio Banderas (also straight, though put through steamier queer paces by Pedro Almodovar). More intimate scenes between them, including one in bed, were cut from the final edit. The caution paid off: respectfully if not ecstatically reviewed, Philadelphia grossed over $200m worldwide, and won two Oscars, including one for Hanks.
