From its initial premiere, the television series Riverdale captivated audiences with its darkly stylized reimagining of the classic Archie Comics universe.
What began as a seemingly conventional teen drama quickly evolved into a captivating, often bewildering, blend of genres, embracing elements of mystery, crime, horror, and even supernatural fantasy. Subsequent seasons pushed these boundaries even further; for instance, the fourth season immersed protagonist Jughead in a mysterious private school setting, where a chilling flash-forward narrative repeatedly hinted at his eventual murder by the core group of friends.
Later, the sixth season fully embraced overt supernatural horror, introducing an antagonist potentially embodying the devil, along with time travel and superpowers, completely subverting traditional teen drama expectations.
While such fantastical elements might appear outlandish for a show centered on high school students, they are, in fact, deeply rooted in the conventions and often-misunderstood nature of the teen drama genre itself.
Often dismissed or critically overlooked, the teen drama, as a genre, carries a rich, complex history. Many trace its modern inception to the groundbreaking series Beverly Hills, 90210, a creation of Darren Star, an openly gay man. This significant origin point casts a distinct, albeit sometimes subtle, queer light on many of the tropes and narrative structures that Beverly Hills, 90210 helped solidify within the genre.
To truly grasp the essence of a teen drama, it must, at its core, adhere to the narrative frameworks of television drama.
It typically follows a close-knit group of adolescent friends navigating the universal challenges of youth: academic pressures, romantic relationships, and sexual exploration. These characters often find themselves embroiled in solving mysteries or confronting monstrous threats, which frequently serve as powerful metaphors for their more intimate, personal struggles.
Contemporary streaming series, while offering significantly fewer episodes per season, often echo many of these established conventions. However, they typically lack the sprawling, often deliberately absurd and dramatic scenarios designed to fill the numerous episodes characteristic of a traditional 22-episode network season.
This distinction, among others, prevents many streaming counterparts from fully aligning with the quintessential "teen drama" classification.
Crucially, the teen drama genre can be broadly categorized into two major divisions: network television shows and streaming platform series.
When discussing the foundational characteristics of the genre, particularly in the context of works like Riverdale, the focus generally remains on the network show. These network productions frequently embrace a "soap opera" quality, a categorization that perfectly encapsulates Riverdale.
Such shows are characterized by their heightened, often campy dialogue, their increasingly wild and intricate storylines, and a tendency for characters to behave with a maturity or world-weariness that belies their age. While often criticized as an unrealistic portrayal, this characteristic, in my view, is a deliberate stylistic choice, reflecting the exaggerated reality inherent in these types of shows.
understanding Riverdale's unique genre identity
So, how precisely does Riverdale fit into this intricate genre tapestry?
In an era dominated by streaming platforms, the traditional network teen drama, as many knew it, appears to be a fading art form. To truly appreciate Riverdale as the intricate pop culture mosaic it is, we must acknowledge its primary cultural progenitors. As previously noted, Beverly Hills, 90210, often cited as the genesis of the modern teen drama, possesses queer roots through its gay creator, Darren Star, who drew inspiration from his own youth.
This queer origin imbues all the staples established by Beverly Hills, 90210 with a subtle, yet pervasive, queer undertone.
The show's executive producer and chief creative officer of Archie Comics, Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa, is openly gay.
His personal history with the Archie Comics brand further underscores this queer connection. In 2003, Aguirre-Sacasa famously received a cease and desist order from Archie Comics for a play he was staging, which depicted Archie Andrews coming out as gay and relocating to New York.
This incident highlights a long-standing, often fraught, relationship between the iconic, traditionally wholesome characters and a queer reinterpretation.
The vibrant online community on platforms like Tumblr provides ample evidence of the widespread engagement in queer readings of Riverdale.
Blogs such as "riverdaleheritageposting" frequently compile humorous posts, yet many of the contributors also delve into much deeper analytical discussions, exploring the show's layered queer subtext and aesthetic. Riverdale itself interacts with its source material in profoundly intricate ways, often reinventing the classic archetypes of Archie, Jughead, Betty, and Veronica into complex new characters.
decoding Riverdale's queer appeal: a fandom perspective
The particular appeal of Riverdale, especially its queer subtext, for many viewers (myself included, along with countless Tumblr users) stems from several key factors.
A significant portion of the enjoyment derived from the series comes from its masterful blending of numerous genres. More importantly, it offers the unique opportunity to witness explicitly queer, or heavily subtextually queer, characters navigating these diverse generic landscapes.
The show places these characters into absurd, dark, and often labyrinthine situations and narratives, many of which are shaped, at least in part, by their queerness.
This approach results in a multifaceted representation or interpretation of queerness rarely observed elsewhere.
Few characters within the series remain untouched by queer subtext, as the show genuinely feels as though it originates from a queer perspective, speaking directly to a queer audience. This inherent quality significantly enhances its allure. Given that virtually every experience Archie encounters is tied to his implicit queerness, the often absurd darkness of his storylines—whether viewed through the lens of sports, crime, or general Americana—becomes an exhilarating queer critique of the quintessential "all-American man." This is achieved by queering nearly every masculine American pop culture archetype imaginable.
Initially, Riverdale may have garnered a reputation for heteronormativity, a perception it has struggled to fully shed.
However, within the fandom, expressing an affinity for Riverdale often carries an unspoken implication of queerness. Many, including myself, began watching the show, in part, due to intriguing posts and analyses encountered on platforms like Tumblr. The fandom for the show is notably distinct; dedicated followers of all, or even most, seasons who are vocal on social media tend to fall into specific categories: "hate-watchers," straight fans primarily invested in early season relationships over plot or analysis, or, most prominently, queer Tumblr fans.
This unique demographic underscores the show's unexpected resonance within queer communities.
It is important to acknowledge that a considerable amount of cultural heteronormativity contributes to how Riverdale is perceived and received. Interestingly, the episodes that are often considered "queerer," such as the musical episodes, consistently receive lower episode-by-episode ratings on platforms like IMDb.
This phenomenon further highlights the existing biases in viewership and critical reception.
kevin Keller: a pivotal, yet complex, representation
While much of this discussion focuses on Riverdale's subtextual and aesthetic queerness, it is vital to acknowledge the presence of openly gay main characters from the outset.
Kevin Keller, the son of Riverdale's sheriff, stands as the series' first openly gay character, introduced in the very first season. Although several other male series regulars—including Fangs, Archie, and arguably Reggie—eventually identify as queer characters by the series' conclusion, Kevin's journey began with that explicit label.
For much of its seven-season run, Kevin, unfortunately, often served as little more than a comedic element or a familiar archetype. However, the show's portrayal of this archetype is far from straightforward.
Drawing a comparison to characters like Kurt Hummel from the television series Glee, a show also created and influenced by gay individuals behind the scenes, reveals a crucial precedent.
Kurt, and subsequent gay characters on Glee, established that a gay character in a teen show could transcend the role of a flat stereotype, existing merely to fulfill a diversity quota or to act as a confidant for straight female protagonists. The clear parallel to Kurt suggests that Riverdale, in its characteristic meta-playfulness with teen drama conventions, deliberately uses Kevin as a critique of the "gay best friend" trope.
A particular scene in the very first episode pointedly frames this archetype as belonging to a bygone era.
The comic book history also contributes to Kevin's significance. Kevin Keller was first introduced into the Archie Comics universe in 2010, marking him as the series' first openly gay character.
His popularity even led to a spin-off comic series the following year. Yet, the question remains whether the television adaptation truly did justice to his character. While grateful for Kevin's representation and his presence as a queer character, I often feel he is treated as a token, especially within a cast that possesses immense potential for far greater diversity and depth than the show often allows.
Riverdale, as a show and, more importantly, as a cult phenomenon, has a unique opportunity to seize the mantle and explore teen sexuality in ways previously unseen on primetime television. We are still awaiting another series that pushes these boundaries quite like Riverdale does.
archie Andrews: subtextual queerness and the all-american archetype
The points of reference, inspiration, and homage within Riverdale are frequently imbued with queer sensibilities.
Understanding this, or even simply sensing it, allows a queer viewer to perceive the show's subtly obscured objectives. It takes Archie Andrews, the quintessential all-American, wholesome teen, and transforms him into the epitome of American masculinity—not necessarily in personality or intellect, but certainly in his actions and the roles he embodies.
Simultaneously, Archie consistently remains at the center of the show's palpable homoeroticism.
Riverdale takes the subtextual queerness, which is not uncommon in teen dramas, and amplifies it to an extreme degree.
Archie's internal struggles also serve as a wellspring of queerness. Seasons one and seven, in particular, present his internal conflicts reminiscent of a "High School Musical" dilemma.
In the first season, his struggle is framed as a choice between football and his burgeoning romantic entanglements with Betty and Veronica. The unique narrative device of the 1950s setting in season seven allows characters like Betty and Veronica to share kisses, and Archie to engage in something at least "gay sex-adjacent." This framing enables them to be characters who are simultaneously familiar to viewers from six previous seasons, yet also entirely new, providing a fresh canvas for exploration.
Furthermore, the series leaves Archie with a wife, a conclusion that, alongside Jughead's role as narrator and the story's writer, firmly establishes Archie as the central character.
The first episode offers a subtle, yet significant, hint of the show's eventual queer exploration near its conclusion. Jughead, up until this point, primarily functions in the background, appearing in brief shots, apart from his opening voice-over as he types on a laptop.
However, in one of the episode's final scenes, Archie is depicted standing outside the diner, searching for Betty after having kissed Veronica, prompting Betty to flee. The ensuing scene immediately sets up the falling out that defines the start of their friendship for the season, though its full explanation is deferred until the subsequent episode.
Despite their conflict, Archie and Jughead converse like old friends, a moment that lays critical groundwork for their dynamic. Given the show's inherent nature, it resists any straightforward interpretation of Jughead's potential jealousy of Archie as mere subtext, instead hinting at something deeper.
seasons one and seven: bookends of queer exploration
When discussing the queer narratives I chose to highlight—those involving Archie, Jughead, and Kevin—my focus largely rests on the series' first episode and the latter half of its final season.
These particular seasons strive most to resemble conventional teen dramas on the surface, with minimal, if any, fantasy elements and, in season one, fewer of the exaggerated, often ridiculous hallmarks that later defined Riverdale's campy, enjoyable identity. Seasons one and seven, with their greater emphasis on interpersonal relationships, lend themselves most readily to an initial queer analysis.
However, the visual and aesthetic queerness, along with the broader plot influences of the intervening seasons, are undoubtedly worthy of more extensive exploration.
While seasons one and seven appear the most accessible, their inherent queerness is equally blatant.
The meta-narrative and camp sensibilities that are central to the majority of Riverdale are certainly present in the first season and become increasingly central to the show's focus as season seven progresses. Indeed, season seven, particularly its latter half, truly embraces and unleashes all its queer potential.
the power of representation: beyond the token character
In a progressive show like Riverdale, which features some truly remarkable and diverse queer characters, the series certainly makes itself more relevant to its contemporary audience.
However, there remains an opportunity for the queer storylines to be enhanced and imbued with greater depth. While I am immensely thankful for Kevin's representation and the presence of at least one openly queer character, I firmly believe he should not be seen as merely a token in a cast with such immense potential for broader diversity.
For shows targeting younger audiences, equal and inclusive representation is paramount, especially in our current societal landscape.
Representation truly matters. It is crucial because it aids in normalizing minority groups, providing a voice and a platform for the queer community. Moreover, representation extends beyond merely having a diverse cast; it encompasses giving these characters the spotlight and crafting interesting, meaningful arcs for them.
Riverdale, as a series and, more significantly, as a cult phenomenon, possesses numerous opportunities to boldly explore teen sexuality in ways never before seen on primetime television. We are yet to encounter another series that dares to do what Riverdale has.