Fellow Travelers is both romance and political thriller. Brought to the screen in eight episodes by Paramount, the 2007 fictional story by Thomas Mallon follows historical events closely enough to come across as a documentary. In fact, there are moments that brought back such ugly memories that I was tempted to shut it down. You'll need to steel yourself against the reminder that America's susceptibility to proto-fascist authoritarianism didn't begin with the current Trumpist effort to replace democracy with a Führer-and fear-centered regime, but has been a risk since 1787, when Benjamin Frankin answered the question, "What have we got, a republic or a monarchy?" with the ominous words, "A republic, if you can keep it."
And it's not just the external political scene that makes this a difficult watch at times. The flawed characters of Hawkins Fuller, played by Bomer, and also of Tim Laughlin, played by Bailey, are reminders that heroes can take their time growing into their roles. Bomer and Bailey are first-rate actors, but watching them stumble and occasionally fall is often painful.
I wish the filmmakers might have told the story with fewer jumps back and forth in time; I don't like having to retain multiple story-lines at once. But that's not a criticism as much as a preference, and some will appreciate the way that story-telling method can layer the richness of the characters. Chronologically, the story of the lovers begins when Tim comes to Washington as a theology student and meets and falls in love with Hawk. Hawk is a user and a climber, very much at home in the world of Washington political hypocrisy. We are left to wonder what draws them to each other, Tim the earnest romantic struggling with the demands of his Catholic faith on his sexuality, and Hawk, the diplomat living a double life, with wife and kids at home, and seedy contacts with rough trade when he can get away with it. Hawk personifies the expression "fellow traveler" of the title of the story, someone whose silence in the face of wrong-doing, enables that wrong-doing. Originally popularized by Trotsky to refer to supporters of communism who wouldn't make the effort to actually join the party, it still works today as a synonym of "enabler," the sort of person that tyrants and other miscreants depend on to make their policies socially acceptable.
An important sub-plot is the relationship between Marcus Gaines (Jelani Alladin), a black reporter for the New York Post who runs up against a ceiling keeping black perspectives out of the news and his lover, Frankie Hines (Noah J. Ricketts), a female impersonator, who reminds us that gay life once existed only in dark alleys or on the outskirts of town. Marcus gives up, in the end, and goes to write for Jet, a publication for blacks, tying together the two liberation struggles - for racial and sexual identity. Blacks and gays can make it, as long as they stay in their lane as entertainers and portray stereotypes to maintain the illusion the customers are looking for in theaters and nightclubs, as Marcus learns when he is refused entry to a club where Frankie is performing. A hypocrisy not exclusive to America, but certainly characteristic of its cultural values.
Fellow Travelers has been described as "a journey from shame to pride," if not for the lives of its leading characters, for the evolution in the larger world. I don't want to spoil the viewing experience for those who want to make that journey, but if you are already familiar with American history from the nightmarish McCarthy era through Vietnam and the AIDS epidemic, you'll be prepared to accept that a journey through history is often a bumpy ride, not for the faint of heart.
But watching actors bring it to life on screen, as they do in Fellow Travelers, can make it a trip very much worth making, all the same.
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