Magneto is gay

A particularly intriguing aspect, in my estimation, is his chromatic palette, which prominently features vibrant pink and/or shades of violet. Within the fictional realm, however, this choice is not particularly outlandish; indeed, it is widely acknowledged that the majority of protagonists and antagonists in comic books adorn themselves quite extravagantly—Magneto, in fact, exhibits a comparatively understated aesthetic when contrasted with certain figures from the 1990s era. Furthermore, his sartorial choices receive scant, if any, commentary from characters within the narrative itself. Nevertheless, a distinct observation I have made is as follows:

This refers to Magneto's depiction as a benevolent figure in contemporary comic book editions. Strikingly, the hues of pink and purple are either significantly subdued or entirely missing from his attire. Admittedly, numerous instances exist where a virtuous Magneto sports his traditional ensemble, and similarly, his pink costumes have frequently been rendered in red even during his periods of malevolence. However, in recent times, the most profound alterations to his iconic attire have been linked to his portrayal as a hero, systematically eradicating the pink chromatic elements to the greatest extent feasible. A singular, noteworthy anomaly in this trend presents itself in his appearance during the 'Age of X-Man' storyline—

(To clarify, was his alignment truly benevolent in that instance, or was he a malefactor? Or, perhaps, a villain who genuinely perceived himself as a force for good, albeit not in the typical self-deceptive manner usually associated with Magneto when he embraces villainy? One must ponder...)

Thus, it appears quite curious that, amongst the myriad potential modifications to his iconic appearance designed to signify his newfound heroic status, the chromatic presentation consistently undergoes alteration. Upon examination of the preceding images and the concluding illustration, one might discern that in the initial portrayal, his visage does not truly convey the impression of a virtuous character; rather, he maintains a distinctly 'Magneto-esque' demeanor. It is, unequivocally, the final depiction that compels a second, reconsidering glance.

However, he does not, in my estimation, conform to the archetype of a conventional 'gay-coded character'—unlike, for instance, the antagonist from Disney's Aladdin (whose moniker I shall not even feign knowledge of), Scar from The Lion King, or Moriarty as portrayed in the Sherlock television series (a seldom-encountered canonical illustration of this trope). It is crucial to bear in mind that the actual sexual orientation of a queer-coded antagonist is irrelevant; the essence lies in a character exhibiting traits conventionally associated with homosexuality, and authors deliberately linking these attributes to their villainous nature. Should the character genuinely be gay, a distinct set of complexities arises, yet the principle of queer-coding persists); consider, too, earlier iterations of Loki (who has, commendably, since been confirmed as non-binary and bisexual within the comic book continuity)—Magneto (or 'Mags,' as he is known) generally lacks many of the attributes commonly linked to queer-coded figures. He tends to be either rigidly reserved and introspective for the majority of his appearances, or he erupts into unbridled fury; he is never notably ebullient in the commission of his misdeeds, his objectives are predominantly unselfish, and though capable of manipulation, he also exhibits considerable fidelity and adheres to his pronouncements, even when they constitute menacing declarations.

It is important to understand that the notion of antagonists being queer-coded is not inherently problematic on the grounds that portraying a queer villain would be offensive. Unless, of course, every heroic character is depicted as heterosexual while every villain is homosexual, there exists no issue with featuring a villain who identifies as gay. The actual concern with queer-coding, however, lies in its appropriation of stereotypical attributes ascribed to gay individuals (such as being unctuous, overly intellectual, overtly flamboyant, or non-conforming to conventional gender norms) in order to render these characters seemingly untrustworthy and malevolent, largely due to the historical and ongoing association of homosexuality with undesirable characteristics (a prejudice that regrettably persists in numerous locales and amongst various demographics). This phenomenon is particularly pronounced in the case of male characters, as it often entails assigning them traits stereotypically perceived as feminine, thereby allowing misogynistic views of women as manipulative, superficial, self-serving, inconsistent, and dishonorable to converge with analogous preconceptions concerning gay men.

Formulating universal declarations concerning Magneto in this context presents a challenge, as his antagonist role has been depicted with immense variation by disparate authors. He has been portrayed as a quintessential Silver Age antagonist, a solitary vigilante reminiscent of The Punisher, an overwhelmingly powerful behemoth, and even a well-intentioned but misguided antihero, among other interpretations. From my perspective, the inquiry into 'queer-coding' invariably poses a 'chicken or the egg' dilemma. Evidently, the genesis of queer-coding as a concept arose from the premise that if authors imbue their antagonists with queer characteristics, their readership would develop animosity towards them, rooted in the prejudicial equation of queer individuals with malevolence. This practice achieved such pervasive prevalence that these specific traits—particularly when applied to male characters—became broadly linked with villainy itself. Consequently, this led to creators engaging in queer-coding their villains not out of an intent to disparage queer individuals, but rather from a preconceived notion that such characteristics constituted the 'expected' portrayal of an antagonist.

In my opinion, a significant distinction lies in the fact that queer-coded antagonists are typically presented as figures we are not intended to admire (and to those homophobic writers: rest assured, I personally find most queer-coded villains quite compelling). Conversely, Magneto, at a minimum, is designed to elicit a degree of empathy from the audience. Numerous tropes traditionally deemed 'masculine' are associated with his characterization. These include the profound bereavement stemming from the demise of his family and spouse, his prowess as a formidable physical combatant, an pervasive indignation directed at the world, participation in various romantic storylines, an capacity for empathy, an 'unhinged' former partner (a lengthy narrative in itself), and notably, a remarkable degree of self-control even amidst his fury (in stark contrast to queer-coded characters, who are commonly depicted as unrestrained and prone to emotional outbursts), alongside his pursuit of altruistic objectives.

Permit me to incorporate a visual illustration into this discourse:

What follows is the climactic confrontation between the characters Thor and Loki, as depicted in the 2011 film.

Herein lies the ultimate showdown involving Erik and Schmidt, as presented in 'First Class' (released in 2011).

By virtue of this particular narrative choice—namely, the elimination of Schmidt/Shaw at the climax of 'First Class'—the audience is intended to commence viewing Magneto as an antagonist, while simultaneously witnessing the protagonist's confrontation with a erstwhile comrade who has diverged from the righteous course. Within the domain of directorial and performance selections, Magneto's fury could just as easily have been depicted through overt vocalizations and frantic outbursts; however, this was deliberately avoided. Indeed, he is never truly presented in a state of emotional upheaval or trepidation, nor does he ever implore others. As a matter of fact, the sole individual in this particular sequence exhibiting screams and entreaties is Charles.

In the case of Magneto, even amidst profound animosity towards an individual, he seldom appears to lose self-control; rather, his demeanor typically aligns with the following:

His actions are highly purposeful, and his ire habitually transmutes into immediate, ruthless force; idle menaces are conspicuously absent. Unquestionably, there do exist moments wherein he appears entirely unhinged—

It strikes me as particularly noteworthy that, firstly, both of these occurrences center upon themes of profound loss, specifically the bereavement involving individuals for whom he harbored deep affection. Secondly, in the latter example, he is depicted yelling towards a divine entity only after he has already dispatched the law enforcement officers; his vocalizations were not directed at them. Logically, it would have been more consistent to portray him consumed by rage, screaming and incandescent with fury, at the moment he eliminated those directly accountable for the demise of his kin; yet, he maintains an exceptionally composed demeanor during that act. His vociferous outbursts occur subsequently. This, in my view, is compelling, as it reconfirms that he is not depicted as being beyond the mastery of his own deeds or exhibiting ‘hysterical' behavior. His sorrow, particularly evident in the final instance, markedly resembles that typically ascribed to a ‘heroic' figure (one might draw parallels to Logan's emotional responses when confronted with the loss of Jean). The narrative device of 'fridging' female characters, it must be noted, is profoundly emblematic of a masculine storytelling approach.

As previously stated, the fundamental issue with queer-coding is not whether a villain identifies as LGBTQ+; rather, it stems from their depiction as a homophobic parody of gay individuals, with this representation then being inextricably linked to malevolence. Broadly speaking, I find that Magneto is seldom handled as a mere caricature of any particular archetype. His character receives considerable gravitas, and while his narrative development certainly presents numerous points of contention (particularly his frequent deployment as a cautionary example for the notion that ‘eliminating bigots renders one a bigot'), I would hesitate to classify him as generally queer-coded (a point you were not, in fact, asserting, which perhaps illustrates the degree to which I have diverged from the primary subject matter). The matter of his apparel is assuredly something I have observed over the past few years; it certainly held no discernible significance for creators such as Claremont:

However, from my individual viewpoint, I believe this phenomenon is largely attributable to emphasizing his change of allegiance; altering the color scheme offers a straightforward method to underscore this shift while simultaneously ensuring the design unequivocally identifies him as Magneto, hence I am inclined to grant the creators some leeway in this regard. Within the cinematic adaptations, it appears to me that Erik's most ‘gay-coded' instances occur in his interactions with Charles; yet, these are not employed to underscore his ‘malevolent' inclinations, but rather to illuminate his benevolent facets—to demonstrate his capacity for affection, fidelity, and tenderness towards another individual, and to convey that a principal moral compass of the X-Men series (at least as depicted in the movies) continues to hold concern for him. Particularly when contemplating the concluding sequence of Dark Phoenix, which certainly evokes the ambiance of a romantic proposal and, in my humble opinion, was unequivocally crafted for the fanbase (as such relationships typically conclude with a somewhat melancholic resolution), I would contend that the screenwriters are more culpable of ‘queer-baiting' than ‘queer-coding'. Nevertheless, my dear readers, that particular discourse is a subject for another time, perhaps an entire treatise on an entirely different commentary.