'The Great Pink Scare' to air in early June
DETROIT – In an age where photos and videos of every sex act imaginable are only a mouse-click away, it's hard to imagine a time when possessing images of artfully-posed, nearly-naked men would raise an eyebrow, let alone ruin the careers of highly respected, well-educated college professors. But that's just what happened in the late 1950s and early 60s when overly zealous politicians, prosecutors, police officers and postal officials decided that the public's increasing interest in pornography would one day ruin America – and it was their job to stop the "flood tide of filth" that was "engulfing our country."
And who bore the brunt of their witch hunts? The shocking – yet not surprising – answer is well documented in "The Great Pink Scare," a thoroughly engaging and thought-provoking documentary that will air in early June on the award-winning PBS series "Independent Lens."
With the hunt for communists in every nook and cranny of American life still fresh in the minds of the public, moral watchdogs in the late fifties were now concerned with magazines such as Playboy that were becoming much more common on America's newsstands. But what also raised their ire were the bodybuilding and art publications, photos and eight millimeter films that were aimed at and consumed by homosexual men. Such "smut," experts claimed, had the power to pervert even the straightest of men after prolonged exposure, and because of that, it must be destroyed.
Since most of the material was distributed through the mail – remember, there was no Internet 40-plus years ago – the Post Office became the nation's all-powerful censor. And among their targets were three gay professors at Smith College in the idyllic town of Northampton, Mass.
It was a "small incident that happened at the wrong moment, in the wrong place and three lives were damaged forever," recalled Jane Yolen, a student at the college at the time of the incident.
The primary suspect was Newton Arvid, 60, one of America's finest literary critics. A communist sympathizer two decades earlier, Arvid feared that his homosexuality would one day be revealed and that he'd suffer a fate worse than being exposed as a communist. Officials targeted Arvid after the Post Office opened his mail and discovered what was called "obscene literature." His house was searched, and after discovering additional evidence – including a journal that "recounted all of his intimacies" – Arvid gave officials the names of two others who had seen the materials: His best friend Ned Spofford (25) and Joel Dorius (28).
After his trial, Arvid chose not to appeal his conviction – he seemed "cleansed" of guilt for being gay after the trial. Spofford and Dorius, however, fought to clear their names. And while their battle ultimately served a greater good, they did so at great personal expense from which they never totally recovered.
It's a compelling, yet chilling story producers/directors Tug Yourgrau and Dan Miller document in "The Great Pink Scare." By intermixing current-day interviews with Spofford and Dorius with photos and film from the past, the filmmakers have opened a window into a shameful period of our history that should never be forgotten. It seems unimaginable today that simply purchasing a video by mail of two wrestlers in posing straps could land you in jail, but that was life for gay men in the "fabulous fifties." Whereas today, we can be out, proud and download as much gay porn as we can store on our hard drives, such was certainly not the case for gay men and women in the mid-twentieth century.
However, despite that fact that times have, indeed, changed, Yourgrau and Miller pose an even more powerful question for us to consider: Could what happened to Spofford and Dorius happen to us today?
Think about it carefully before you answer; those who forget the lessons of the past are doomed to repeat them!
