The latest episodes of Fellow Travelers have sparked some debate, particularly in how they navigate complex themes of family, forgiveness, and historical context. While the series excels in evoking the atmosphere of the 1950s, this strength inadvertently overshadows the narrative development in later decades, specifically within the context of a pivotal Fellow Travelers episode. This uneven focus raises questions about character motivations and the overall emotional impact of the storyline.
One of the central criticisms revolves around the limited exploration of family dynamics, especially considering the significant life events impacting the characters. Lucy’s pragmatic decision to stay married, grounded in the tragic loss of a child, feels somewhat glossed over. The profound impact of Jackson’s death, a potentially transformative event, appears to lack sufficient screen time to resonate fully with the audience. This underdevelopment is further highlighted when juxtaposed with the richly detailed portrayal of the 1950s, making the episodes set in the 60s and 70s feel comparatively less substantial. The visual language of Fellow Travelers consistently draws us back to the Eisenhower era, from McCarthy’s funeral, with its stark displays of prejudice, to the poignant imagery of the AIDS quilt in D.C. This visual and thematic anchoring in the past diminishes the weight of the later timelines, despite the acknowledged destructiveness of events like Jackson’s death on the central trio.
However, the most contentious aspect of this Fellow Travelers episode lies in the portrayal of forgiveness, specifically Hawk’s seemingly easy absolution. The narrative appears to grant Hawk a lenient pass, from a casual mention of his negative status to Tim’s swift forgiveness for actions that arguably derailed Tim’s life. This narrative choice sidesteps a deeper examination of “great consuming love” and its consequences. The episode even revisits a past betrayal from Hawk in the late 50s, only to have it seemingly dismissed by Tim upon witnessing Hawk’s family life with Lucy and their child.
This rushed sense of forgiveness is further complicated by the limited screen time devoted to Tim’s life beyond the 1950s. His ready acceptance of a love defined by pain and betrayal feels unearned. The audience is primarily shown instances of Hawk’s hurtful actions, whether isolating Tim at his family cabin or the chaotic dynamic of their relationship in the 70s-set episode. Ultimately, Fellow Travelers seems to prioritize Hawk’s personal evolution from a deeply closeted individual grappling with internalized homophobia to an openly gay man. While this journey is significant, framing it as the central narrative thrust, particularly culminating in self-acceptance after the death of his love, risks falling into the problematic “bury your gays” trope. Even if intended as a subversion, where queer pain fuels a queer narrative, Tim’s death feels emotionally diminished as a result of this narrative trajectory within this Fellow Travelers episode.
