All that Glitters is Gay : The Fetishisation of Queer Identities in Media

Written By: Makkanthra Aditi

Edited By: Muskaan Kaushik

Graphic Designer: Makkanthra Aditi

The conversation on the paradox of visibility and commodification of queer identities in the entertainment industry has been overshadowed by the celebration of representation and the act of "finally being seen." Multiple viewpoints offer different perspectives.                                   

Just a decade ago, meaningful representation of the LGBTQIA+ in the mainstream was scarce, with most of the queer audience rarely encountering any sense of relatability onscreen. Nowadays, queer characters are seen more often across films, television, and digital platforms, making their presence known and establishing a new era of inclusivity.

Yet visibility alone is not actual inclusion.

The general media often mistakes the two and thus ends up developing characters that appear less as individuals and more as objects of fascination, fetishisation and products of commercial value. This is not to suggest or establish that every portrayal of the LGBTQIA+ in every medium is inherently commodified. Rather, it is to question the rehashing of character traits that are vulnerable to marketability rather than authentic character that evokes understanding rather than fascination among its audience.

This raises the question: does the issue of queer fetishisation lie in the portrayal or the consumption?

The answer to a thought as such is complex. Fetishisation as a phenomenon is never from a single source. Both the choices of the media in the traits and tropes and the audience's interpretation and consumption matter. While media plays the desirability politics in its favour by developing one-dimensional characters that cater to the fantasies of the audience, consumers can also reinforce and affirm these decisions by reducing the characters to trends and objects of fascination.

In a society shaped by cis-heteronormativity, desire is not neutral. It is produced, encouraged and controlled. Desirability politics thus leads to the desired being hyper-visible in the sense of sexuality, fantasy and a spectacle in itself. Yet the very being of the people being desired, their tenderness, humanity, and vulnerability, is removed, and what remains is an object for the desires to fill according to their whims.

Fetishisation is not merely a form of obsession; it also manifests through the tropes and assumptions projected onto marginalised identities. While such communities may gain visibility in popular media, that visibility does not necessarily translate into meaningful representation. Instead, it can reinforce existing stigmas and further alienate queer identities from what society continues to regard as "normal."

Bollywood's approach to queer visibility has often relied on familiar patterns. One of the most common is what might be called "the gay punchline": queer-coded characters functioning primarily as comic relief. Rather than being written as fully realised individuals with whom queer audiences can genuinely identify, these characters frequently exist to provoke laughter through stereotypes surrounding gender expression and sexuality.

Another recurring tendency can be seen in films such as Dostana, where ambiguity around male intimacy is sustained for humour, curiosity, or dramatic effect before ultimately reaffirming heterosexual norms. While depictions of deep male friendship are not inherently problematic, they can sometimes rely on the suggestion of queerness as a temporary spectacle rather than as a legitimate identity in itself. Such narratives allow audiences to flirt with transgression while remaining safely within conventional expectations.

The trope of the "evil eunuch," exemplified by Sadashiv Amrapurkar's portrayal of Maharani in Sadak, presents another complicated case. It may provide a form of visibility, but inclusion is far less certain. Despite the critical acclaim surrounding the performance, the character reinforces long-standing associations between gender nonconformity and danger, deviance, or moral corruption. By positioning a gender-nonconforming figure as a violent and predatory antagonist, the film contributes to the fear and suspicion through which many such communities have historically been viewed.

Taken together, these examples suggest that representation within mainstream cinema is often conditional. Queer identities are granted visibility so long as they remain entertaining, threatening, or ultimately subordinate to heterosexual norms.

While Bollywood continues to offer relatively limited and uneven representation, Hollywood has undeniably expanded the range of queer stories on screen through films such as Brokeback Mountain, Dog Day Afternoon, Tár, and Moonlight. The characters within these narratives possess emotional depth, vulnerability, agency, and complexity. Yet the same industry that produces such works also profits from practices such as queerbaiting, rainbow capitalism, and the commodification of queer aesthetics, revealing a persistent tension between authentic representation and marketability.

Television, too, reflects this contradiction. Many series gesture towards queer relationships without ever fully committing to them, a practice often criticised as queerbaiting. Similarly, media corporations may enthusiastically embrace Pride when it aligns with market interests, yet remain noticeably silent when inclusion becomes politically contentious. Even elements associated with queer culture, glitter, gender-fluid fashion, or expressions such as "clock it" are frequently absorbed into mainstream culture while being detached from the communities and histories that produced them.

Hollywood may have broadened the scope of queer representation, but it continues to grapple with the same paradox: visibility can coexist with commodification. Where authenticity is absent, commercial appeal and marketability often take precedence.

Now, it would be convenient to end this conversation by putting the entire blame on the fetishisation of the entertainment industry, but doing so ignores the active participation of the audience. No product can be sold without demand and the same applies here.Media is shaped by demand. Fan culture, Online communities and the algorithms often seek sensational,sexually gratifying characters which play into their fantasies while maintaining the notion of inclusion.

This dynamic can also be observed in certain BLs and GLs . These  relationships are sometimes written to cater to the  heterosexual gaze than to explore queer experiences. They thrive not through the depth of the  plot but the commodification of intimacy in the form of  “soft porn” that encourages the audience to engage in  voyeuristic consumption of the queer characters rather than their authentic personas.

Shipping Culture further proves the hand of audiences in reinforcing the consumption even when left uncatered. While shipping can be a harmless notion of fandom culture and has also provided space for the queer community to imagine relationships that the media refuses to depict, it can also become another form of fetishistic consumption. They are followed less for the people it portrays and more for the fantasy they offer.

Ultimately what matters is not visibility but the kind of visibility they get.The relationship dynamic between the media and audience is a cycle where in search of visibility the human is compromised.

Perhaps this is what the title, All That Glitters Is Gay, seeks to capture. Glitter has long symbolised queer joy, self-expression, celebration, and resistance. Yet once severed from its cultural origins, it risks becoming just another aesthetic to be commodified, marketed, and consumed.

It was never merely about queer people being seen. It was always about whether they are seen as people at all.