Gay american gods scene
American Gods: Dissecting the Jinn Sequence
Forewarning: SPOILERS abound for the third installment of American Gods
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As Bryan Fuller and Michael Green embarked on the journey of adapting American Gods for the television format, a specific guideline was established concerning the novel's frequently graphic depictions of sexuality: Should nudity be present, all participants would be unclothed! Green took this rule a step further, a rule that Fuller playfully dubbed as "Starz adores male genitalia":
"‘Equal opportunity' was, in fact, the phrase that was used. They understood there would be sexual material present in this production, and we were explicit that our sexual content would invariably remain uncuttable, in that it would connect directly to narrative and character development and would be depicted with the highest level of artistry, just as anything else. When a sex scene is present in a production, be it cinematic or episodic, and it can be excised while allowing viewers to fully appreciate the emotional development of its characters, the scene was most likely executed improperly - or at least that was our guiding principle."
Anyone currently watching the show will find this unsurprising, where Shadow (Ricky Whittle) unfortunately stumbled upon photographic evidence depicting his deceased wife's extramarital involvement with his closest companion. Furthermore, the audience was exposed to a pitiable individual undergoing a sexual devouring at the hands of Bilquis (Yetide Badaki), the goddess of love. Even still, those viewers who tuned in last night found the Jinn scene extremely shocking, given its surprisingly graphic portrayal of a love scene between two males. Rarely does one witness scenes of an explicitly sexual nature, and exceedingly rarer still does one see such scenes involving two men of color; Fuller and Green abstained from any form of restraint in their depiction of what is arguably one of the novel's more poignant and exquisite moments.
Acting as the latter of this week's episode's "Coming to America" narrative interludes (with the former focusing on the Egyptian deity Anubis), the Jinn's narrative serves as a reliable reproduction of the corresponding sequence in the source novel, wherein Salim (Omid Abtahi), a salesman grappling with misfortune and recent arrival to the country, has an encounter with a taxi driver exhibiting fiery eyes. Following an unproductive endeavor to secure a business appointment for pitching his inventory, Salim flags down a cab, initiating conversation in both Arabic and English with the Jinn (Mousa Kraish). After revealing his blazing eyes from behind a pair of sunglasses, the Jinn speaks to his condition in America, where his vocation is taxi driving and he is almost entirely forgotten in New York, the last of his kind, one most individuals mistakenly assume can grant wishes. Salim then discusses his grandmother, who professed to have once witnessed an Ifrit amidst a sandstorm. Within the realm of Islamic mythology, an Ifrit is a particular species of jinn created from fire and smoke, subordinate to angels. They are reputed to dwell beneath the earth and regularly visit ruins (within the scene, the Jinn inquires whether Salim possesses knowledge of the City of Ubar, a fabled city lost amidst the Omani sands, in whose excavation the Jinn implies his participation). Instant connection is forged by the duo, resulting in Salim extending an invitation to the Jinn to visit his accommodations, where they then engage in an act of love.
The aforementioned sex scene remains primarily loyal to the original novel, in which Salim entertains imaginings of "the desert on [the Jinn's] skin", gradually unfolding to expose the couple's culmination envisioned as a form of reverence, where the Jinn takes an ebony statue-like form while the duo engage in intimate congress atop the dunes. While the scene doubtlessly surpasses conventional depictions of homosexual sex on TV, even on cable networks, it does not venture into the realm of pornography. Parallel to the now-notorious Bilquis sequences, the act serves as a form of devotion, though one resulting in a superior outcome for Salim in comparison to Bilquis' adherents. Before the impending kiss, the Jinn insists to Salim that he is unable to grant wishes, prompting Salim's rejoinder "but you do." Although the corresponding scene in the book concludes with Salim performing oral sex on the Jinn, the program extends the occurrence into a full-fledged sexual encounter. According to Bryan Fuller, this particular juncture possessed exceptional significance, as communicated during an interview conducted with the Hollywood Reporter:
"It was fundamentally important for us to examine Salim's experiences as a homosexual hailing from the Middle East, whose encounters were likely restricted to clandestine acts and lacked any sincere or intimate encounters. Within the book, Salim pleasures the Jinn within the confines of the hotel, after which he disappears. For our presentation, it became important to portray Salim succumbing to his knees, prepared to engage in intercourse as he had become accustomed to, before the Jinn lifts him and kisses him, treating him with greater levels of spiritual and soulful affection, transforming his understanding of his personal identity and the essence of his sexual orientation."
Sexual positivity constitutes a notable cornerstone within the show. Even throughout the Bilquis segments, satisfaction is depicted with unwavering dedication, mirroring its presentation throughout the Jinn scene, as both individuals attain solace and pleasure within each other's presence, liberated from sentiments of humiliation and disdain. For a production that willingly indulges in the most visceral renditions of violence (in which the same installment portrays a man being impaled upon a stake after extending a ride to a dispirited leprechaun), it comes as a relief to witness such commitment to depicting sex in a similarly explicit, though not exploitative, manner. By way of contrast, Fuller's previous show Hannibal, broadcasted via NBC, managed to get away with a surprisingly high degree of gore, yet was prohibited from presenting nudity, which frequently resulted in unintentionally humorous situations.
Keen-eyed audiences might have caught sight of the Jinn in the previous week's installment, in which his character was displayed briefly in a meeting with Mr. Wednesday (Ian McShane). Within that specific scene, he sported the light blue suit that Salim dons during this current episode. Following their shared encounter, Salim awakens alone inside his hotel suite, noticing the absence of his own effects, while the Jinn's garments and taxi identifications rest in their stead, presenting Salim with a fresh existence. Donning the apparel in addition to the shades, a smile adorns his face as he embarks on this renewed life utilizing the Jinn's former cab, reiterating the Jinn's personal affirmation inside the vehicle's mirror concerning his inability to grant desires. Even if this rejuvenated existence did not stand as a direct request on Salim's behalf, the event clarifies the Jinn's provision of a novel trajectory in his life as an immigrant to American society, liberated from the restrictions imposed by his preceding lifestyle.
Fuller and Green provided assurances that the Jinn's contribution to the overarching narrative would extend beyond its confines in the originating book, and his dialogue with Mr. Wednesday hints at his implication in the conflict between the old divinities. Salim seems to embody another aspect of the overall story, given that Omid Abtahi is featured on IMDb within the credit rolls of numerous episodes. As it stands, his interaction involving Salim signifies an additional initial for American Gods, and perhaps the medium of television as a whole: A depiction of pronounced sexuality involving two Muslim gentlemen also articulating the quest for companionship within immigrant society. Following only three aired episodes, the program has elevated expectations for others aspiring to follow suit.