It’s a Sin shows the tragic consequences of… | Little White Lies

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It’s a Sin shows the trag­ic con­se­quences of misinformation

15 Feb 2021

Words by Sam Moore

A person in a pink and white patterned shirt embraces another person in a dark shirt, with other people visible in the background.
A person in a pink and white patterned shirt embraces another person in a dark shirt, with other people visible in the background.
Rus­sell T Davies’ land­mark AIDS dra­ma reveals how con­fu­sion and fear gripped gay men in 1980s.

Rus­sell T Davies’ return to TV, It’s a Sin, is set at the dawn of the AIDS cri­sis, as the shad­ow of the ill­ness is cast over the lives of a group of friends liv­ing in Lon­don. When they first come togeth­er in a cheap flat that they chris­ten The Pink Palace, they have their whole lives ahead of them. Davies shows the lib­er­a­tion and pow­er that can come from queer joy and plea­sure: his char­ac­ters sing, dance, hook up; and in find­ing each oth­er, they also find themselves.

But this feel­ing doesn’t last long. By the time the first episode is over, AIDS has claimed its first vic­tim. As the show goes on, the ill­ness becomes more of a focal point, as the num­ber of infect­ed – and dead – con­tin­ues to rise.

It’s a Sin is bound to elic­it strong emo­tion­al reac­tions: sad­ness, anger, even the impulse to take to the streets, as the char­ac­ters them­selves do in a mem­o­rable scene. But per­haps the most strik­ing thing about the show is the way the char­ac­ters respond to the spec­tre of the ill­ness, specif­i­cal­ly in regards to mis­in­for­ma­tion around the caus­es, con­se­quences and real­i­ties of AIDS.

This comes from the top down; it isn’t until much lat­er that the infa­mous Don’t Die of Igno­rance’ ad cam­paign appears, and when Jill tries to find out more about the ill­ness, she’s told by a doc­tor it lit­er­al­ly doesn’t affect you.” It’s a Sin makes it clear that peo­ple thought of AIDS as some­thing that explic­it­ly tar­gets gay men. Telling­ly, the char­ac­ters who chal­lenge this nar­ra­tive are all gay men; they do so not in a con­cert­ed dri­ve towards activism – at least not to begin with – but because it seems too con­ve­nient. Some­thing made up just to fright­en them.

Two people wearing "AIDS NEED AID" and "AID" t-shirts lying on the pavement.

There’s a scene in the sec­ond episode where Ritchie (Olly Alexan­der) deliv­ers a whirl­wind mono­logue on why he’s con­vinced that AIDS doesn’t exist, or, if it does, that it’s not the kind of ill­ness they’re being told it is. He reels off the rumoured caus­es, which cov­er every­thing from mete­ors to the infa­mous patient zero the­o­ry that played out in real life. And he insists that a dis­ease which only tar­gets gay men is too per­fect: it con­firms people’s prej­u­dices and serves to fur­ther stig­ma­tise homo­sex­u­al­i­ty. To be gay would mean a death sentence.

Ritchie and his friends want to live in igno­rant bliss, because the real­i­ty that they’re avoid­ing is sim­ply too hor­ri­fy­ing to con­tem­plate. This mono­logue – fol­low­ing Ritchie on a jour­ney through clubs and hookups and nightlife – cap­tures the polit­i­cal heart of It’s a Sin: the lethal con­se­quences of mis­in­for­ma­tion, and what hap­pens when the peo­ple you’re sup­posed to be able to trust are unwill­ing or inca­pable of telling you the truth.

It’s a Sin might be Davies’ mas­ter­piece, bring­ing togeth­er his major themes of found fam­i­ly, queer joy and the AIDS cri­sis on a scale that’s both epic and inti­mate. It refus­es to shy away from tragedy, from the anger pro­voked not only by uncar­ing insti­tu­tions but gay men them­selves, who find them­selves unable to deny the exis­ten­tial threat that this dis­ease presents to them.

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