Michael Koresky’s Sick and Dirty: Hollywood’s Gay Golden Age and the Making of Modern Queerness is a deeply researched and engaging exploration of how queerness survived—and even thrived—within the constraints of classic Hollywood cinema, particularly during the reign of the Motion Picture Production Code from the 1930s to the 1960s. This era, often referred to as the “Golden Age of Hollywood,” is typically remembered for its glamour and star power, but Koresky reveals a more complex, subversive undercurrent: the persistence of queer identities and desires, both onscreen and behind the scenes, in a time of official repression123.
The Production Code, enforced most zealously by Joseph Breen, explicitly forbade any “inference” of homosexuality in films. This led to a culture of censorship and forced filmmakers to find creative ways to hint at or encode queer themes and characters. Koresky traces how queerness was often present as a “structuring absence”—its very suppression making it more noticeable to those willing to look beneath the surface13.
Koresky’s narrative is anchored by close readings of several key films, including:
William Wyler’s two adaptations of Lillian Hellman’s The Children’s Hour, a play about two schoolteachers accused of lesbianism. The first adaptation, These Three (1936), changed the central secret from lesbian desire to adultery, while the later version (1961) restored the original theme, albeit still constrained by the era’s mores13.
Alfred Hitchcock’s Rope and Vincente Minnelli’s Tea and Sympathy, both of which feature coded or subtextual queer content.
Tennessee Williams adaptations like Suddenly, Last Summer and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, which, despite censorship, managed to convey queer themes through suggestion, metaphor, and performance1.
Koresky also highlights the contributions of queer and queer-adjacent directors, writers, and stars, such as Dorothy Arzner (one of the few prominent female directors of the era), George Cukor (whose sexuality was an open secret in Hollywood), Farley Granger, and Judy Garland. These figures, Koresky argues, found ways to imbue even the most conservative films with a “queer frisson,” subtly challenging the status quo1.
A central thesis of the book is that the very attempts to silence queerness in Hollywood often made it more potent and alluring. The “bad seeds” of queer cinema—those films and performances that managed to slip past the censors—are revealed as surprisingly subversive. Koresky contends that these works not only provided coded representation for queer audiences but also laid the groundwork for the eventual loosening of restrictions and the emergence of more explicit queer cinema in later decades3.
Koresky situates his analysis within the broader context of American society, noting the impact of the House Un-American Activities Committee and the general climate of moral panic. He also draws connections to contemporary debates about censorship, book bans, and anti-queer legislation, suggesting that the lessons of the Code era remain relevant today13.
Sick and Dirty stands out for its blend of scholarly rigor and accessibility. Koresky’s writing is praised for being both deeply informed and highly readable, making complex historical and theoretical points clear to a wide audience. The book is also notable for its reevaluation of underappreciated queer artists and its insistence on the ongoing power and relevance of “problematic” classics. By showing how queerness persisted—and even flourished—under repression, Koresky offers a more nuanced and hopeful account of Hollywood’s past than previous works like Vito Russo’s The Celluloid Closet, which focused primarily on erasure and victimization13.
Original Perspective: Koresky challenges the dominant narrative of total queer erasure, instead highlighting the resilience and ingenuity of queer filmmakers and performers3.
Rich Film Analysis: The book provides insightful readings of both famous and lesser-known films, revealing new layers of meaning and subtext1.
Historical Relevance: By connecting the struggles of the past to present-day issues, Koresky makes a compelling case for the continued importance of studying queer film history3.
Engaging Style: The blend of academic depth and accessible prose makes the book appealing to both scholars and general readers1.
Overemphasis on Certain Films: Some reviewers note that Koresky devotes perhaps too much attention to The Children’s Hour and its adaptations, which can overshadow his analysis of other films and figures1.
Potential Redundancy: The book occasionally belabors certain points, particularly regarding the mechanics of censorship and the specifics of the Production Code, which may feel repetitive to readers already familiar with the topic1.
Scope Limitations: While the focus on the Code era is a strength, it also means that the book does not engage as deeply with post-Code queer cinema or with non-Hollywood contexts, which some readers may find limiting1.
Sick and Dirty is a significant contribution to the study of queer cinema and Hollywood history. By uncovering the hidden histories of queerness in classic films and celebrating the artists who defied repression, Michael Koresky offers readers a richer, more complex understanding of both the past and the present. The book’s few weaknesses—mainly its occasional repetitiveness and overemphasis on certain case studies—do little to detract from its overall value as an insightful, entertaining, and timely work13.