The phrase “TV moment” is often used, but for viewers unused to seeing their lives reflected on screen, Mr Loverman was more than that.
The eight-part drama, based on Bernardine Evaristo’s novel, has a rare depiction of a love affair between two elderly black men at its heart.
Mr Loverman’s main character, the Antiguan-born Barrington “Barry” Walker, played by Lennie James, is a father, grandfather and pillar of his community, married for 50 years to Carmel (Sharon D Clarke). But the real love of his life is his best mate, Morris (Ariyon Bakare) – and their decades-long secret will have a corrosive effect on them, the women in their lives and their children, before finally boiling over.
For Marc Thompson, 55, the black LGBT+ activist who is lead commissioner for the London HIV Prevention Programme, watching Mr Loverman – which aired this week on iPlayer and BBC One – has been “beautiful” and “bittersweet”.
“I went in with low expectations. Very often we don’t get representations of black life and black gay life done well. All my expectations were exceeded,” Thompson said. “It was an amazing drama. I came away feeling seen, really emotional.”
Thompson came out in 1985 and says he has watched the black LGBT+ community grow from a “village where everyone knew each other” into a “city with many different boroughs”.
“There are moments in it, particularly the flashbacks to the 80s and 90s, where I was really triggered, because I knew these older men. I wish those men were around to see their stories reflected.”
But gay black stories and creators had been shut out for too long, said the film-maker Topher Campbell, the curator of the exhibition Making a rukus! Black Queer Histories Through Love and Resistance, running at Somerset House in London.
“There are stories we would like to tell as Black, British, queer people being ignored – that shouldn’t be happening in 2024,” Campbell said. “The industry needs to start believing in experienced, homegrown talent. Constantly, Black queer stories are being told by somebody else.”
Last year, the Creative Diversity Network, which aims to enable the UK broadcasting industry to increase diversity and whose members include the BBC, ITV and Sky, released a report that analysed six years of data on representation in the industry.
It found that in 2021-22, while the number of directors who identified as black, Asian and minority ethnic (13.4%) was on a par with UK statistics for the black, Asian and minority ethnic workforce as a whole, the “contributions made by those directors remains relatively low: below 10% in each of the last six years”.
While the report found “LGB directors (16.2%) are making a very high proportion of contributions (30.5%) relative to the proportion of LGB directors being employed”, experienced creators such as Campbell say black, gay people “slip between the cracks”, as a minority within a minority.
“The power in the industry – to commission, produce and create – still lies in the hands of a few, so nothing really changes,” Campbell said.
after newsletter promotion
For Thompson, Mr Loverman highlights what still needs to change in society when it comes to acceptance and self-acceptance. “There are still young Black gay people who will remain in the closet because of their countries of origin, because of faith, because of family pressure, that will always exist – that is not unique to Black communities,” he said.
Readers from across the country have spoken to the Guardian about the realisations, memories, and emotions the show has stirred.
John, from London, said: “My late partner was Windrush generation. I was privileged to spend many years with him and his gay West Indian friends.
“Whilst I’m glad that the show and Bernardine’s book cast light on this community, I would like people to know that not all gay black men of that generation were married and closeted. They had to be careful for sure, in the racist and homophobic climate of the times, but they led wonderful, fulfilling, joyous, and often quite raucous, lives.
“They were also an incredibly brave and proud bunch of men. I miss him, and them, terribly.”