Arts & Entertainment
Should gays boot the ‘Roseanne’ reboot?
Transient urban gays should give back to home communities

The original cast of ‘Roseanne’ includes lesbian actress Sara Gilbert (first from left in back row). She both reprises her role as Darlene and is executive producing the eight-episode arc. (Photo courtesy ABC)
The twang of a harmonica, the blare of a saxophone, that grating laugh.
Last week, ABC continued the pop culture wave of ‘90s nostalgia by airing the premiere of its much buzzed-about “Roseanne” revival. The original was never afraid to take an unflinching and unapologetic look at working-class life in America or serve as a showcase for its brash and controversial star, Roseanne Barr. True to form, “Roseanne’s” reboot debut proved the show would be just as bracing and willing to tackle controversial issues head-on through its distinct blend of biting humor and tough love.
It’s off to a gangbusters start with its first new episode in 20 years on March 27 drawing 25 million viewers and a massive 73 rating among adults 18-49. With 6.6 million viewers watching it later, it set a time-shifting record, the Hollywood Reporter notes. Another 4.3 million watched an encore broadcast Sunday night. Hulu and ABC streaming will only add to those numbers. It has the best numbers of a any “new” show since the 2014 premiere of “how to Get Away with Murder.” It’s already been renewed for a second season.
Reassuringly, the revival begins with Roseanne and husband Dan waking up in their old bed. Roseanne says she thought he’d died (cue Dan’s deadpan reply, “Why does everyone always think I’m dead?”), expediently erasing the divisive last season, which revealed the show was a story written by Roseanne, Dan had died and the family never won the lottery (don’t ask).
The rest of the Connor family is reintroduced, including Aunt Jackie, whose conflict with big sister Roseanne anchors the premiere. The two have barely spoken since the 2016 election. Roseanne is pro-Trump (mirroring the actor’s real-life support of the president), and Jackie, sporting a Nasty Woman shirt that would have looked appropriate on her 20 years ago, is ardently not.
Much has been made of Roseanne incorporating its star’s pro-Trump views and I was admittedly hesitant about watching the show and possibly liking it. Would my viewership (and potential enjoyment) tacitly endorse Roseanne’s views and those of her pro-Trump fans? Roseanne has rightfully been praised as a realistic depiction of working-class life in America, and although I may disagree with its star and vast numbers of the show’s viewers, there is no escaping the fact that Trump struck a chord with them for a reason that should not be ignored.
Roseanne saying she voted for Trump because “he talked about jobs” may have been played for a laugh, but she was speaking for a lot of people like the Connors. Although a sitcom isn’t going to resolve the political rift in the country, it can promote real discourse. The tension between Roseanne and Jackie was effective because not only was it true to the characters, it was also real. You could see families like this having these kinds of conversations and therein lies the strength of this show for much of its audience: relatability.
“Roseanne” also focused on middle daughter Darlene’s 9-year-old son, Mark, a happy boy who enjoys doing things like wearing skirts and painting his nails. Darlene supports his self-expression and doesn’t want the family to make him feel self-conscious because of it. Although they don’t understand why a boy would “dress like a girl,” the family embraces Mark. When Dan affirms that Mark shouldn’t go school like that, it isn’t because he’s ashamed, but because he fears Mark will be bullied.
I didn’t expect the show to deal with gender identity and expression so matter-of-factly. That Mark was portrayed as a fully formed person rather than a stereotype, and that the family rallied around him, was an explicit argument that we can all get behind: we should be proud of who we are and able to express that fully without fear of judgment or reprisal.
Mark puts an exclamation point on this idea (and shows that he truly is a Connor) by asserting that he’s going to keep dressing like he wants because he’s not ashamed of who he is. When Dan says, “That’s one tough kid,” how could you not stand up and cheer? I doubt the average Trump supporter is ready to acknowledge (let alone accept) gender non-conformance, but I’m grateful that a show aimed at them is saying it should be celebrated instead of feared.
I understand the concerns over normalizing Trump and certain segments of his base, because a show like “Roseanne” could potentially justify their views. Indeed, this has been a sticking point for many potential fans, especially gays. I’ve heard valid arguments that say the dichotomy of the show’s central character supporting Trump (who curries favor with hate groups) while sticking up for her gender non-conforming grandson is offensive at best, dangerous at worst, because this kind of line straddling could allow and encourage such attitudes to persist.
Nuances like these should not be compartmentalized and “Roseanne” would do well to address this potentially negative duality in future episodes. Although there are no easy answers to these questions, the “resist,” anti-Trump, left-leaning crowd ignores the Roseannes of the world at its own peril. If this show can bridge some divides, provide a glimpse into what “middle America” thinks while also demonstrating that the rest of us aren’t the demons we’re made out to be by many on team Trump, then maybe there’s room for an actual conversation. The jury won’t be in anytime soon, but maybe a show like “Roseanne” can counter or even diffuse the hornet nests of social media and angry op-eds cannot which, let’s face it, mostly just preach to their respective choirs.
At its core, “Roseanne” is a show about family, and while there’s certainly room for improvement (more Jackie!), this is a family worth spending some more time with.
Arts & Entertainment
In an act of artistic defiance, Baltimore Center Stage stays focused on DEI
‘Maybe it’s a triple-down’
By LESLIE GRAY STREETER | I’m always tickled when people complain about artists “going political.” The inherent nature of art, of creation and free expression, is political. This becomes obvious when entire governments try to threaten it out of existence, like in 2025, when the brand-new presidential administration demanded organizations halt so-called diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) programming or risk federal funding.
Baltimore Center Stage’s response? A resounding and hearty “Nah.” A year later, they’re still doubling down on diversity.
“Maybe it’s a triple-down,” said Ken-Matt Martin, the theater’s producing director, chuckling.
The rest of this article can be found on the Baltimore Banner’s website.
‘La Lucci’
By Susan Lucci with Laura Morton
c.2026, Blackstone Publishing
$29.99/196 pages
They’re among the world’s greatest love stories.
You know them well: Marc Antony and Cleopatra. Abelard and Heloise. Phoebe and Langley. Cliff and Nina. Jesse and Angie, Opal and Palmer, Palmer and Daisy, Tad and Dixie. Now read “La Lucci” by Susan Lucci, with Laura Morton, and you might also think of Susan and Helmut.

When she was a very small girl, Susan Lucci loved to perform. Also when she was young, she learned that words have power. She vowed to use them for good for the rest of her life.
Her parents, she says, were supportive and her family, loving. Because of her Italian heritage, she was “ethnic looking” but Lucci’s mother was careful to point out dark-haired beauties on TV and elsewhere, giving Lucci a foundation of confidence.
That’s just one of the things for which Lucci says she’s grateful. In fact, she says, “Prayers of gratitude are how I begin and end each day.”
She is particularly grateful for becoming a mother to her two adult children, and to the doctors who saved her son’s life when he was a newborn.
Lucci writes about gratitude for her long career. She was a keystone character on TV’s “All My Children,” and she learned a lot from older actors on the show, and from Agnes Nixon, the creator of it. She says she still keeps in touch with many of her former costars.
She is thankful for her mother’s caretakers, who stepped in when dementia struck. Grateful for more doctors, who did heart-saving work when Lucci had a clogged artery. Grateful for friends, opportunities, life, grandchildren, and a career that continues.
And she’s grateful for the love she shared with her husband, Helmut Huber, who died nearly four years ago. Grateful for the chance to grieve, to heal, and to continue.
And yet, she says of her husband: “He was never timid, but I know he was afraid at the end, and that kills me down to my soul.”
“It’s been 15 years since Erica Kane and I parted ways,” says author Susan Lucci (with Laura Morton), and she says that people still approach her to confirm or deny rumors of the show’s resurrection. There’s still no answer to that here (sorry, fans), but what you’ll find inside “La Lucci” is still exceptionally generous.
If this book were just filled with stories, you’d like it just fine. If it was only about Lucci’s faith and her gratitude – words that happen to appear very frequently here – you’d still like reading it. But Lucci tells her stories of family, children and “All My Children,” while also offering help to couples who’ve endured miscarriage, women who’ve had heart problems, and widow(ers) who are spinning and need the kindness of someone who’s lived loss, too.
These are the other things you’ll find in “La Lucci,” in a voice you’ll hear in your head, if you spent your lunch hours glued to the TV back in the day. It’s a comfortable, fun read for fans. It’s a story you’ll love.
The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.
Theater
Minimal version of ‘Streetcar Named Desire’ heading to Dupont Underground
Director Nick Westrate on this traveling take on Williams’s masterwork
‘A Streetcar Named Desire’
Produced by The Streetcar Project
April 20-May 4
Dupont Underground
19 Dupont Circle, N.W.
Tickets start at $85.
Dupontunderground.org
An aggressively minimal version of Tennessee Williams’s “A Streetcar Named Desire” is poised to run at Dupont Underground (April 20-May 4), the nonprofit cultural space located in a repurposed, abandoned 1949 streetcar station beneath Dupont Circle.
The Streetcar Project’s production performs in site-specific spaces. It’s almost entirely without design elements. There is no steamy, cramped Vieux Carré apartment. You won’t see Blanche’s battered trunk exploding with cheap finery, faded love letters, and demands for back property taxes, or the familiar costumes.
Co-created by Lucy Owen (who stars as Blanche DuBois) and out director Nick Westrate in 2023, this traveling spare take on Williams’s masterwork about a fragile woman on the margins in conflict with her brutish brother-in-law seems a reaction to necessity. It’s also an exploration of whether, like Shakespeare’s “Henry V,” it can subsist on language alone.
With little distractions (even Blanche’s cultivated southern belle accent has been daringly stripped away), the spotlight shines almost solely on text. “This play holds that,” says Westrate, 42. “I remind the actors that the while there is plenty of movement, language is really the only game in town.”
New York-based Westrate, who’s best known as an esteemed actor with New York and regional credits including Prior Walter in János Szász’s production of “Angels in America” at Arena Stage, describes “Streetcar” as “the most perfect play on earth” but not one he thinks of acting in (“I’m not right for Stanley Kowalski or Mitch”) though he agreed to direct.
“These days if you’re not a not a movie star or an established director, you’re not likely to do “Streetcar.” So, for us, we have to be able to do it with almost nothing, on the New York subway if necessary. And that’s kind of how we built it.”
Westrate first experienced Dupont Underground while attending a staged reading. He was so obsessed with the space as a prospective place to take the production, he found it hard to concentrate. He says, “With its long, curved track and tunnel, Dupont Underground is a terrifying, beautiful room that carries so much metaphorical weight, so much possibility for our production.”
WASHINGTON BLADE: Is finding the right space for this “Streetcar” part of the thrill?
NICK WESTRATE: Whenever I enter a weird room or pass by an abandoned CVS, I try to figure out how we might do the show there, especially places that are dilapidated, architecturally odd, or possibly haunted. And each space we use, lends something to the production. The Rachel Comey store in Soho was a very Blanche coded space. And an artist’s workshop on Venice Beach in California with its huge saws and metal hooks lent raw imagery. The scenes between Blanche and Stanley near the end were absolutely terrifying.
BLADE: More recently that same bare bones production has played in more traditional spaces like the Wheeler Opera House in Aspen and San Francisco’s A.C.T. Is it hard to now go to Dupont Underground?
WESTRATE: Each time we do this we have to crack open the play again because the staging is entirely new, but we’re used to performing in unusual spaces and Dupont Underground rather takes us back to form. As a former streetcar station, it’s the most appropriate space we’ve had yet.
The cast will literally act on streetcar tracks and go without dressing rooms but they’re game, and because they have history and authorship over the work, the sacrifice is more meaningful than if they were just some hired guns.
BLADE: Audiences have an expectation, especially with a work they’re likely to know. How do they react seeing such an unadorned take on Williams’s American classic?
WESTRATE: For the first 10 or 15 minutes, they’re unsure. Then, you can pretty much see the audience members’ brains click in and their imaginations turn on. It’s like they’re scratching an itch that they didn’t even know they had.
BLADE: Did you and Lucy foresee gaining this kind of momentum behind your vision?
WESTRATE: Absolutely not. Lucy had a philosophy that we’ll just walk through open doors. Early on, we were given spaces and artists filled the seats, and increasingly we’ve begun to rent some spaces and attract more regular theatergoers.
We basically sell tickets in order to pay a living wage to artists involved. There isn’t some big institution or commercial producer who’s getting a lot of money from this. Audiences of all types seem to respond to this mode of making theater.
BLADE: In presenting “Streetcar” intermittently, usually with the same cast over three years in wildly varying venues, have you learned more about a piece that you already loved?
WESTRATE: Mostly I’ve come to realize that Blanche is the smartest character I’ve ever read in a play. She’s like Hamlet – tormented by dreams and terrified of death. She’s skilled at wordplay and always ahead of everyone else in the room. Also like Hamlet, people think she’s insane and she uses that to her advantage.
Blanche is certainly the Everest of roles for actresses and watching Lucy sort of break it apart in a different way than you’ve ever seen, and knowing that I’ve helped to facilitate this performance has been one of the great joys of my career.
