The Kathryn Hahn Bisexual Cinematic Universe
On playing desire across genres and genders
“I love women.” Kathryn Hahn as Babs Merrick in The Goods: Live Hard, Sell Hard (2009)
“Fuck you, Dick.” Kathryn Hahn as Chris Kraus in I Love Dick (2016)
“I love the gays!” Kathryn Hahn, reportedly, to a gay fan in a bar during pride
Dear cultured, wise reader, consistently in pursuit of ways to expand your knowledge of our complex queer film canon: today I give you an examination of the most bisexual cinematic moments of veteran improviser, perpetual comic relief, and admirer of every woman, Kathryn Hahn. That’s right. From the humble film beginnings of a bit part in How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days (my first PG-13 rated movie if anyone cares), to the best guest star to hit Parks and Recreation, to the metaphorical centerfold of a young queer’s horny newsletter, Hahn is finally getting the attention she’s entitled to, but very rightly could not care less about.
“But Shayna,” you might bristle, “a whole article can’t be dedicated to an actor just because you appreciate the horndog energy inherent to every fiber of their onscreen performances.” Au contraire! That’s the most salient reason to even study media! And setting that aside, it’s not just subtext. Hahn is one of the few well-known contemporary actors who lands bisexual roles with startlingly steady frequency, and as such she has a place in our hallowed halls. She transforms cheap jokes, steals scenes, and plays typically ridiculed women succumbing to, or harnessing, their aggressive libidos with Yale School of Drama levels of dedication. Most recently, she plays a witch and Disney-owned Marvel villain, who, aside from being obsessed with the protagonist of the series, is gay, because literally all villains in Disney are automatically gay and the only characters allowed to display any type of sexuality.
Not all of the films or shows listed in this celebration of Hahn’s oeuvre are good, per se. Some are commercial fluff, and some are independently-minded, pretentious meditations on myopically white womanhood. Hahn’s hallmarks, however, make every performance memorable – especially when it comes to playing desire, double meaning, or simply interest. In her smaller roles she deifies her top-billed acting partners through an unblinking stare of naked fascination, and in doing so garners her own attention. In her own vehicles, she finds about a dozen different ways to want - sometimes shamelessly, and sometimes with a simmering guilt that lies just beneath the surface of whatever she’s actually saying. And sometimes (those blessed sometimes) she just grabs the back of an actor’s neck and makes out with her, then conducts her making out with another woman! Recount the votes for the MTV Movie Award for Best Kiss, you cowards!
It is truly surprising that we sheeple have taken this long to wake up to this perfect storm of textual bisexual stardom (and if you already knew, good for you, why didn’t you tell us?!). But since we’re here, let’s celebrate the gift that keeps on giving: Kathryn Hahn at her horniest and most terrifically bisexual.
Bad Moms - Available on VOD
Like some of you may have been, I was allergic to the advertising of this movie, which was “These moms? They have decided to take one day off! They’re bad moms! From the creators of The Hangover®.” However, I have since come around to enjoying this film as a predictably offensive brain massage that makes very little structural sense and primarily exists for Mila Kunis to remind everyone she does in fact have a kid, Kathryn Hahn to shout about drinking and fucking, and Christina Applegate to play the iciest of bossy bottoms. Milf central, my friends.
You may not have expected Hahn to be extremely bisexual in a film where every fourth word is some variation on dick, but surprise, you’re in my newsletter now, and dicks are bisexual! Hahn’s character Carla is a single mom who works at a spa and does literally whatever she wants, including fucking Vin Diesel, and making out with as many women as she can seduce in one night. Hahn chews the scenery in every shot, and it’s one of those performances where you can tell that they just kept rolling because everyone was having too much fun. There’s absolutely no subtlety to the role, which can be something so spectacular when the main text is a satisfied, “I made out with so many women tonight. So many.”
Bad Moms Christmas - Available on VOD
We have places to be, so this is not an official entry, but Hahn does indeed make out with more women in this film, hit on Christine Baranski, and flirt with the clients whom she gives pubic waxes. More surprisingly, she gets a real storyline in which all she wants is a genuine connection to her own gambling, rambling mom, played by a cowboy hat-toting Susan Sarandon at her absolute sluttiest and douche-iest. As a Jew, I am even more allergic to this movie than its original, but Sarandon and Hahn (and a clearly thrilled Baranski) made it a worthwhile piece of research for this essay.
Afternoon Delight - Available to Stream on Tubi (Free)
The logline of this hyper-2013, gratingly Los Angeles indie written and directed by Transparent show runner Joey Soloway is that listless mom Rachel (Kathryn Hahn) goes to a strip club to reinvigorate her sex life, gets a lapdance from sex worker McKenna (Juno Temple), and falls so head over heels with her imagined stray that she invites her to live in her family’s home, and become a nanny for her toddler son.
This role is what I would call the first notable entry of Hahn’s Repressed Bisexual Housewife repertoire. It’s a quieter, devastating, painfully horny archetype who is hinted at in Hahn’s arch Revolutionary Road character and played for absurdity in Stepbrothers, but fully comes to fruition within this tale of double standards and pure frustration. It’s also an excellent example of Hahn’s approach to a more dramatic genre of bi desire: an all-consuming lasciviousness that convinces you she’s utterly unaware of her own facial expression because she’s entirely, uncontrollably focused on the subject of her affection. ACTING!
The film is interesting enough, and if you’re a fan of Soloway’s tendency toward stunningly performed, cringeworthy Jewish neurotics, and no-holds barred semi-improvised breakdowns from Hahn, it’s rich in those! More relevant to our interests, there’s a cut scene (why would they do this to me, specifically) of Hahn and Temple’s delicate make-out that doesn’t make it into the movie, but several ramp ups to every near-miss leaves no doubt that Rachel is bi, horny, desperate for emotional and physical connection, and ready to risk it all for a tiny blonde.
Mrs. Fletcher - Available to Stream on HBO Max
Time to quench a lifetime of Repressed Bisexual Housewife thirst! With a more reserved exterior than many of her previous roles, Hahn plays long-divorced mom Eve Fletcher, whose terrible son (I cannot stress this enough, every moment he is onscreen is excruciating, so congrats to actor Jackson White) is finally going away to college. Left with an empty house and a 3-year-long dry spell that’s hers to break, she decides to explore the world of internet porn, starting with “MILF.” Yeah. Yep. Good. For. Her.
Unfortunately, the series splits pretty evenly between Eve and her son, but the entirety of Eve’s story hinges on Hahn’s ability to portray an active remaking of her world through fantasy. Watching that transformation is delicious, with some of the best sequences being an eroticization of a free sample exchange at the grocery store, masturbating on the kitchen floor while trying to keep cookies from burning, or cruising at a pretentious queer book launch and trying out her dominant side. Most of the sex Eve fantasizes about (at least that we’re shown) is fairly vanilla, but with Hahn’s absorbed gaze it still carries an air of previously untouched, dangerous possibility.
There’s many a bi antic in this series, including one of the most empathetic and well-directed threesomes to hit the small screen, but the scene I keep coming back to is all talk. In an episode directed by celesbian extraordinaire Carrie Brownstein, Eve and her senior center coworker Amanda (Katie Kershaw) hang out after an emotionally exhausting day. They’re blowing off steam, Eve uses a weed pen for the first time (hilarious), and they end up in Amanda’s neighbor’s hot tub, drinking and talking. Amanda, an openly queer woman, talks about her past relationship ending, the very complicated dyke threesome she’s had (“my ex, and her ex”), and for the first time, asks Eve what exactly her deal is. At first, Eve balks, but she opens up: she’s been having “crazy” fantasies – none she’ll ever act on, she claims, but a weight seems to lift now that she’s finally admitted to having an active inner life.
Amanda’s response is one of interest and newfound respect – encouraging Eve to actually follow through on those fantasies, and good natured-ly calling her a pervert.
There’s something uniquely resonant about two women, one comfortably queer, one unable or previously unwilling to voice her queerness and desire, sitting in a hot tub and casually, directly engaging in a conversation about desire. It’s flirty and hot and heady and high, but it also strikes at the way people feel unable to speak to their own queerness. There’s a rigidity, passed down from generations of heterosexual panic and overcorrection, to the way new queers are taught to label themselves: to boldly claim one label, to never touch another if it isn’t assuredly theirs. And here, Eve Fletcher is called a pervert in an encouraging way for finally raising the desires she’s discovering but could never, ever voice – because it’s not her space. It’s never been her label. But pervert – that’s a word that screams queer, and bequeathed by another queer woman, it screams welcome, it’s ok, lay your burden down. You can fuck, be fucked, love, be loved, and be absolutely filthy, and you only need one word for it.
And then, of course, the episode ends with Eve kissing Amanda, absolutely fumbling it, and tripping over her own gay panic on the way out the door. Classic.
I Love Dick – A Scamazon Prime Original, please just t*rrent this baby or borrow from your local library
“DEAR DICK, MY BODY HAS BECOME A DIVINING ROD, SEEKING TO QUENCH A LIFETIME OF THIRST.” I’ll say.
I Love Dick is a show that tragically disappeared from public consciousness as soon as it was released. This is partly because it’s a miniseries shaped like an experimental short film program, and partly because it’s an adaptation of a novel that deconstructs art and power through the avatar of a 40-something woman’s insatiable sex drive. Not so easy to market, but absolutely and 100% for the bisexuals.
For my money, it’s still one of the most memorable shows of 2017, thanks in no small part to Hahn’s performance as a floundering filmmaker who becomes obsessed with her husband’s stoic, chauvinist, “post-idea” art mentor, the titular Dick (Kevin Bacon wearing the hell out of a cowboy hat). As national treasure Chris Kraus, Hahn is stumbling, insecure, and utterly unhinged, writing a sweat-soaked letter campaign to Dick and turning herself on over and over just by her own projection of him. Cuckolding her husband with the fantasy of his teacher is at first simply a bedroom endeavor but it quickly explodes into a public psychosexual art project that unwittingly involves everyone in town. Every time Chris looks at Dick, that signature enraptured desire expands to change the entire aesthetic of the show, and Hahn and Bacon sling so much raw sexual energy at each other that they would easily make the final episode of Mrs. Fletcher blush.
While Hahn as a sex pest would be enough to land I Love Dick in this essay, members of the ensemble, including a dashing Roberta Colindrez as ranch hand and aspiring playwright Devon, Lily Mojekwu as exasperated museum curator Paula, and Bobbi Salvör Menuez as ethereal hardcore porn scholar Toby, all bolster the overwhelmingly queer desires of each episode. It’s unnervingly bisexual in both form and function, and marks Hahn’s third (and likely far from last) collaboration with Joey Soloway.
WandaVision – Available to stream on Disney+ (or just YouTube compilations of “Best of Agatha Harkness”)
Fine. They got me. I saw one trailer of Hahn as a hyper-stylized, Lucille Ball-type “nosy neighbor,” side character and I decided to willingly spend time in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. For those of you wondering if this initially intriguing series is worth watching, I would say only if you’re fine with being utterly disappointed by a total lack of accountability from “good” protagonists, following the destruction of an exciting aesthetic choice in service of a franchise tie-in. Hoo-ah.
However, I feel compelled to include this role because, as historically proven by a laundry list of Disney villainy, bisexuals are often the glue to hold together evil franchises, and Agnes/Agatha Harkness is no exception. Hahn plays the ancient witch/chameleonic sitcom suburbanite with a glee that combines over-the-top comedic roots and a knowing, withholding sadism that she is the only character in this godforsaken Puritanical world that fucks. Mentions of her offscreen husband “Ralph” become a running gag which Hahn herself insists is a genuine show of Agatha happily boning, and she and super (hero? Super witch? I don’t know, I hate that witches take on the visually militarized powers of Iron Man in this universe) protagonist Wanda Maximoff (Elizabeth Olsen) have a classic enemies-to-lovers chemistry.
Agatha is smug, theatrical, and dangerous, changing tones at the drop of a hat, and consistently teasing Wanda with Hahn’s signature devotion. There’s literally no other explanation for lines like these :
And immediately after Wanda punishes Agatha for her general flirtatiousness & villainy (it’s simply not that bad if you ask me):
Truly, I’m grateful for this character because it gets the integral intersection of witchcraft/queerness, but I can’t say you should watch this series before any of the other selections of the Hahnaissaince.
Kathryn Hahn is Smitten With Rachel Weisz during The Hollywood Reporter’s Actor Roundtable
Yes, you could watch the full roundtable, in which every actor in the room falls in love with Lady Gaga, or you could watch my favorite short film, in which Hahn plays her best role to date: a useless bisexual in love with fellow serial film gay Rachel Weisz. Please take careful note of the original score to Carol as it underlines a classic tale of bisexual infatuation.
Thanks to this newsletter, I will never ever have the chance to interview Hahn, so I think I will conclude by thanking the actor for her service to us, intolerable bisexuals who simply love to see people lusting after many genders. In truth, the bisexual moments of Hahn’s career thus far are too numerous to give each the full investigative reporting they deserve, so I’ll leave you with a short list of film and television ephemera:
Hahn’s character’s interest in Jennifer Aniston’s tits in We’re the Millers, which the actresses reportedly came up with themselves
Babs Merrick’s outrageous narration of a girl-on-girl porn in The Goods: Live Hard, Sell Hard
Lee Payne bullying a phone store clerk in Happyish