In our Book of Rannells chronology, we’re back at The Boys in the Band – the adaptation, not the play. I can be completely sincere when I say that Hank and Larry’s story is my favorite part of both version, and I think that would probably be true with or without Andrew Rannells playing Larry (although it obviously didn’t hurt!) Seeing the show, and later revisiting it through the film, these characters and their relationship drew me in immediately, and I was eager to know where the night would take them (Larry/Hank-related spoilers.)
Hank and Larry don’t really need the assorted dark turns the party takes to bring them to the brink, as they’re already teetering when they arrive. They’re the only couple in the group, but it’s far from smooth sailing – they both show up to the party on slight edge with each other due to the argument they’re having, and every further agitation just sets them off more. The major sticking point between them is Hank’s expectation of monogamy and Larry’s insistence that that doesn’t work for him. Their fight is simmering under the surface but starts to rise almost immediately, when it’s clear that Larry and Donald know each other but won’t say how.
The implication is obvious to everyone involved: that Donald is another “Charlie,” one of the many guys Larry sleeps with besides Hank. It’s easy to see Hank’s point of view. After all, he’s left his wife to be Larry, uprooted everything he’d known, and it has to feel precarious to know Larry strays. If Larry leaves, what will Hank have left? Even the assembled group of friends seems to be more Larry’s than Hank’s – Hank is betting everything on this guy, but Larry doesn’t seem to be playing for keeps.
And goodness knows Larry doesn’t do much to assuage Hank’s fears. At the slightest provocation, he cozies up to Donald or one of the other guys, making sure Hank sees, and he seems to talk flippantly about his assorted hookups. If Hank is in need of reassurance, Larry’s not prepared to give it to him.
However. It might feel simple to cast Larry as the unfaithful one, the immature boytoy, the bratty slut, and there are certainly times during the night when he plays all those parts with relish. But a portion of that is bluster, a dysfunctional release of Larry’s own insecurities. He chafes at how easily Hank goes back to masquerading as straight (if only largely by omission) when Alan shows up, and I can imagine him wondering how sure his own position is. If Hank was a family man with a wife once, couldn’t he someday be one again, dropping Larry as a passing “phase” he was going through?
And not for nothing, as much as Larry plays at being cavalier, indifferent to Hank’s affections, he snaps to attention the second Alan gloms onto Hank as the most stereotypically-masculine guy in the room. I’m not sure if he’s more worried that Alan will bring Hank back into his “straight” fold or if Hank will bring Alan into their queer one – I’m not even sure if he knows which he’s more worried about. But for a man who makes no bones about his unfaithfulness, he’s instantly jealous.
More than anything, these are two guys who love each other but are both afraid to admit it until the other does first. When they finally get that mutual declaration from each other (even if they’ve put a pin in the question of monogamy for the time being,) that’s when the tensions ease and they’re allowed to just be. But it takes them a long time to get there, most of the night. Because, when these two are insecure, they react at cross purposes. Larry acts out, presenting himself as the slut Hank seems to imply he is. When you really get down to it, Larry doesn’t want to hurt Hank – while he doesn’t want to be exclusive, he’d want to be discreet, not sneaking around but not shoving it in Hank’s face, either – but when he feels accused, Larry leans into the role he’s been cast in, petty, trying to get a rise out of Hank. When Hank’s response is stiff, keeping Larry at arms length as he tries to explain the logic and sense of his proposed “compromise” (a threeway,) Larry just lashes out more.
It occurs to me that they bear a slight resemblance to Christopher and Sylvia in Parade’s End. Christopher thinks the way to love Sylvia is to stay rational and skirt around her bad behavior, while she causes scenes because she thinks the way to be assured of his love is to see him get angry at her antics. Fortunately for Larry and Hank, their relationship isn’t nearly as doomed as Christopher and Sylvia’s. They both spend a lot of time getting in their own way, but they’re also capable of finally dropping the bullshit, of being open and honest with one another about how they feel. As I said, that’s the moment that cuts through all the bickering and games, when they both call each other during Affairs of the Heart.
Does it fix everything? No, I wouldn’t say that. The issue of fidelity is still a big one, and while it helps that Larry finally explains his thoughts on the subject in a way that isn’t dismissive of Hank’s feelings, Hank doesn’t say that sort of arrangement will work for him. He says he’ll try. Who knows? Maybe they’ll break up in three weeks, maybe they’ll still be together in ten years. Maybe Larry will eventually decide he only wants Hank, maybe they’ll continue in their committed but open relationship, or maybe Hank will decide he’s done with sharing. It might work, it might not. But in talking about it instead of fighting about it, they’ve opened the door to make an attempt, and I’d like to hope that they figure it out.
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