Why does it always seem that mainstream American filmmakers are perfectly fine with showing homosexual relationships and even gay sex onscreen … as long as the characters don’t wind up with individuals of the same genders at the ends of the movies?

A look at a selection of relatively high-profile pictures tells a rather perturbing story: Atomic Blonde (2017), where two ladies make love before one is murdered; Brokeback Mountain (2005), whose two cowboys marry women before one of the men expires, leaving the other heartbroken; Call Me by Your Name (2017), in which the two male lovers part ways, with the finale featuring the announcement that one is getting hitched; Kissing Jessica Stein (2001), a flick that features a breakup between the female protagonist and her girlfriend, and the eponymous character going back to dating a guy; Moonlight (2016), which finishes with a shot of the main character, solo, and indicates toward the finale that his friend, whom he had a sexual relationship with, is married; and Braveheart (1995), where the gay lover of the king’s son is thrown out of a window by the angry ruler. Even in the supposedly groundbreaking film In & Out (1997), it isn’t clear whether the male protagonist and the fellow who attempts to bring him out of his shell by kissing him remain an item for the rest of their lives … and they attend a wedding, though it’s not their own.

Then there are the films featuring upsetting climaxes that are either based on true-life events, such as Boys Don’t Cry (1999), which details the activities of a lead who is killed horrifically toward the end, or highlight the theme of separation as a major part of the proceedings’ context, as in Philadelphia (1993), which ends after the tragic death of its protagonist from AIDS. Such pictures place a strong focus on the importance of contesting intolerance and activities based in it, and thus are thoroughly justified in their application. Brilliant and important as they are, however, these movies don’t showcase finales in which the gay protagonists walk hand-in-hand with their significant others into the sunset. They die. These aren’t comedies, where folks wind up living happily ever after. This is sadly-ever-after stuff … or not even “ever after” at all.

I’m sorry, but I’m not out of my head. We have to see this as a pattern, and it’s a problematic one indeed.

Once upon a time, films that tried to present more “realistic” representations of gay characters still fell into common tropes: the unhappy drunk, the bitchy misanthrope, the effeminate guy with the moustache and overly cologned body. Flicks such as The Boys in the Band (1970) and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958), both based on plays, reinforced such stereotypes. Now, however, a different cinematic generalization has reared its ugly head, and it’s bolstered by a sinister undercurrent that suggests a reprehensible duality: that depictions of gay intercourse onscreen for titillation purposes are hot but the idea of a long-lasting homosexual relationship or even marriage surrounding such activity is cold. And Hollywood is freakin’ patting itself on the back for such wise and generous “acceptance.”

Hey, Hollywood? This is still that same old balderdash, though in a shiny new form. It ain’t gonna cut it.

Sure, we have pictures such as Love, Simon (2018) that end on a positive note (in the case of this film, a potential romance between a teenage boy and his mysterious love interest), but these seem to be the exceptions rather than the rule … and are few and far between. Give Hollywood time? Oh, come on. The industry has had more than a century to get with the program. Love, Simon is a start, but it’s not good enough. I want to see two guys or two gals walk, hand-in-hand, off into the sunset. Not the way it’s done in Some Like It Hot (1959), which treated such interactions as a joke, but in a seriously joyful manner. A realistic manner. Like the way my friends John and Bob, who have known each other for more than 20 years and are now married, have done. Or my friends Mark and Barry, who have been a couple for more than four decades and are also hitched. This is a pretty simple idea. It doesn’t have to be relegated to heterosexually fixated celluloid.

Oh, yeah: I’m not pointing to travesties such as The Birdcage (1996) as evidence of how far we’ve come in supposedly renouncing homophobic bigotry as a global community. Sure, that film features a longtime gay couple. Yet the charade the duo puts on in an effort to please conservative, prejudiced prospective in-laws actually comes off as offensive, as the movie speciously implies that going against one’s nature and sacrificing one’s integrity for people who hate you because of your sexuality is the way to go. Let’s also not forget that in the original French iteration of this picture, La Cage aux Folles (1978), the team ends up together but bickering with each other. One of them even has an affair with his ex-wife, as if his partner wasn’t enough. Being gay, in this regard, means giving up something—either your values or your innate sensibilities. You can’t just be gay and be happy with it. There always has to be a conflict.

As James Bond says in You Only Live Twice (1967): “To hell with that idea.”

The thing that really bothers me about the current trend of sad-sack scenarios when it comes to Hollywood’s treatment of homosexuality is the disingenuousness of it all. The sex scene in Atomic Blonde was particularly cynical in this sense. You have two attractive ladies getting it on in a searing, seductive fashion. There’s groping. There’s moaning. Open mouths and all that. Total exploitation. Later on, the more aggressive woman, who initiated the contact, is murdered. See what Tinseltown is saying? Sex between two hot lesbians is awesome. Bring it on and get it on. Just make sure one of them is killed off at the end. Because we can’t have them be an item for the rest of their lives, right? What would people think?

Yes … what would people, including those folks who dig pornographic videos featuring voluptuous women making the beast with two backs but can’t fathom the thought of watching them exchange bands during a wedding, think?

Can we put this kind of hypocrisy in the garbage dump where it belongs, please? The industry has got to understand that such an ideology is offensive, obnoxious and just plain irresponsible. It’s saying right now that gay people can be gay but actually can’t be gay. Let’s get physical but not marital. A fling’s the thing … not a ring. Don’t want to alienate all those decent, moviegoing folks who are fine with gay people as long as they don’t shove their “agenda” down their throats, right?

Here’s what I’m hoping: that a new generation of filmmakers will ditch this nauseating ideology for storylines that present interesting, realistic depictions of LGBT love and marriage that don’t end in death, separation or a loss of identity. Storylines that showcase such individuals in a positive light. Storylines that feature sex that doesn’t just involve handsome men and women. Maybe the guys could have beer guts. And the gals could be zaftig. I’d go see such a picture. If it’s good, I might even watch it more than once.

I know one thing: I won’t be watching Atomic Blonde ever again, and I have no interest in spending any dough to view its forthcoming sequel. The film, like many of the others I’ve referenced, propagates a biased, insidious belief system that should be banished from the collective thought process. The fact that Hollywood hasn’t done this yet demonstrates the need for more directors, producers and screenwriters to correct this issue stat. Walk away from doing so, and the falsehoods will keep growing. Avoid tackling the problem head-on, and homophobia, cultivated by the movie industry, will get worse and worse.

While the self-congratulatory accolades keep on coming, of course. Such will be our spurious future.

To wring some semblance of a line from Brokeback Mountain: We can quit that. But we need to do it now rather than later.

And no amount of onscreen action will bring that about more than a happy ending.