Even in television shows that take on the supernatural, the upside down and everything in between, we can appreciate storylines that reflect the experiences of our comparatively mundane world. Netflix’s The Umbrella Academy does more than entertain me, more than make me laugh, gasp, and cry – it reflects today’s community in a satisfying, yet far from overbearing way. Often, it’s necessary for what we consume to shift with societal changes and developments, and The Umbrella Academy has been doing so since it began, and continues to follow through in their representation of the LGBTQ+ community. Season one featured the brief war-torn love story of Klaus and Dave, and season two, a forbidden ‘60s romance between farm wife and nanny, but the third season, released this past July, took on something new, and not just to keep up with a pattern of representation, but to coincide with real-world developments. Despite my feelings that this new season had lost some pizazz held by its predecessors, The Umbrella Academy’s handling of Elliot Page’s real-life transition was a gift, and something I had yet to experience before on the screen.

 

Elliot Page has been with The Umbrella Academy since day one, playing one of seven gifted siblings who use their powers to stop the end of the world – or potentially cause it. When he transitioned six months after the release of the second season, I couldn’t help but think of what this meant for the character, and for Page himself, returning to a show where he was playing a female character. Despite the challenge, the product was wonderful, and Page’s transition was given time, acknowledged, sweet, and awkward –everything it should be.

 

Despite news of Page’s transition arriving late 2020, and the new season being released the following summer, the changes showrunner Steve Blackman made to the story and the script felt incredibly natural. So natural that it seemed the script was always meant to lean in this direction, and it all began with Season 2. A love interest of Viktor Hargreeves’s, who fell in love and learned to accept herself for who she was, is what inspires him to seek freedom in this new season. What made his transition scene, something as simple as a haircut change, one of the most impactful of the series was Page, not just in the way he was able to portray his character’s nervous and excited energy without a word, but also in his strength and willingness to tell his own story through that of a character we’ve spent the past three seasons with. To give us as an audience the gift of feeling for a lot more than just our favourite character in a fictional television show – feeling for a real person facing adversity in our own world.

 

With the expectation of at least one feel-good coming out scene, it’s safe to say that my expectations were exceeded. The first reason being that I’m used to seeing one of two scripted reactions when it comes to coming outs in film and television: the perfectly positive, and the non-negotiable negative. But The Umbrella Academy featured a handful of coming out scenes that averted the template – a fantastic opportunity to take advantage of when your character has six siblings –  and Blackman curated the script in a way that I felt accounted for the spectrum of our learning community. First we see the reactions of three of his brothers, first referring to Viktor by the wrong name, but then taking the news nonchalantly with ease, then a different reaction from his sister, Allison, who was immediately guilted for not realising the situation of one of her closest siblings. My favourite reaction came from his brother Luther. Tom Hopper, once portraying Luther as the hard-headed leader, has helped develop his character into a big-hearted, awkward lug of a man – and I adored the approach in Luther’s riddled anxiety about how to handle Viktor’s transition. An official welcome into Hargreeves brotherhood? A party to celebrate the occasion? As humorous as it was wholesome, both Hopper’s acting and Blackman’s script gave what I felt was like the most realistic reaction of all, or at least most relatable to myself: the nervous energy of simultaneously balancing how to be cool about it while also showing appreciation and support. It wasn’t just the dialogue that made these scenes special – the smart and relatable portrayal of the characters’ confusion, thoughtfulness, and reactions – it was also Blackman’s ability to showcase many different types of positive reactions, and that difference doesn’t have to mean that one is better or worse than the other. In a TV show involving time travel, talking chimpanzees, and choreographed dance breaks, we were miraculously given something that reflected the real world better than what I’ve seen from other television shows that are actually set in the real world. 

 

I think what truly set these scenes apart for me is that it wasn’t some big, dramatic catalyst. There was no need to involve it in the plot too much, or drag its importance through the season like a parade float. It was recognized for what it was, given those moments, and then the story continued as it was. What’s really important is that Page can be who he is in the storyline of a television show, and not for us to pretend that him stepping into himself means that everything has to change.

 

In a favourite show of mine, however, this third season as a whole was a far cry from first place. It felt as though, after two successful, driven seasons, the creators were too focused on how they could top the previous seasons’ plot, leading to ten episodes that were simply too much. Too many new powers and relationship dynamics and family road trips that, for all its vast, textbook substance, there was little depth outside of Viktor’s transition. The humour, once offering the right combination of wit and chaos, now seemed to be trying too hard. Blackman pulled out all the stops for season three, sure, but it was so many stops that the season ended up feeling shallow. The introduction of new characters and plotlines that  flatlined before they got the chance to live, and the characters I’ve grown to love had enough of their own turns of events to deal with what before felt like a show about siblings, turned out to be more like individual drama occurring adjacent to each other.

 

The reworking of Viktor’s character to mirror Page’s transition was an easy highlight for me, though the character himself deserved more from Blackman. Viktor was given the attention he deserved for his coming out, and granted, Viktor’s scripted ability to be unproblematic and uninvolved in any of the family drama is one of the things I admire most about him. But the plot of the last two seasons revolved around Viktor being the most powerful Hargreeves sibling, revolved around the repercussions his abilities can have on the existence of the world itself, so it was quite the leap for him to suddenly be given a backseat to the action. For such a strong start for this character, both in abilities in the earlier seasons and character growth at the beginning of this one, it was disappointing when the fire suddenly went out. How does it make any sense to bench the show’s most compelling and powerful character?

 

The world has been adapting towards acceptance and despite the season’s shortcomings, The Umbrella Academy did not shy away from a moment not just to reflect a good attitude, but to reflect our communities. Not to pretend that Page/Viktor’s transition was no big deal, not to downplay it into so much acceptance that it’s ignored – and especially not to over dramatize it. Instead, to take time with his transition, and add variety to how it touched Viktor’s family. A layered acceptance to mirror a melting pot of personality, experience and reaction. Amazingly, writers who know how to depict their audience.