Julie Andrews & Ann-Margret play mothers of gay sons in this forgotten made-for-TV weepy

Welcome back to our queer film retrospective, “A Gay Old Time.” In this week’s column, in anticipation of Mother’s Day, we’re looking back at 1991’s Our Sons about moms who bond over their children’s relationship.

Norman Bates said it best. A boy’s best friend is his mother. 

It’s a cliché, of course, that every gay man is a mama’s boy—a cliché that’s often repeated and propagated through media. There is some truth in how a young boy whose inclinations fight against traditional “boy” things is able to bond more easily with his mother than his father. But every family, every gay child, and every mother is completely different, even if media portrayals don’t often showcase that.

This week, to celebrate Mother’s Day, we’ll take a look at a little seen and often-forgotten movie (which is kind of shocking given the talent involved and the themes at the center) that depicts the relationship between mothers and her gay sons in a much thornier and complicated way: the 1991 television movie Our Sons.

The Set-Up

Our Sons tells the story of a young gay couple at the peak of the AIDs crisis in the early 1990s, James (Hugh Grant in one of his earlier American roles, using a truly confounding American accent) and Donald (Zeljko Ivanek).

After a quiet battle with AIDS, Donald is now hospitalized, and only has a few weeks left to live. While James discusses the situation with his mother Audrey, a strict and proper British expat, she insists that Donald’s estranged mother Luanne should be aware of the situation. Knowing that their relationship was tricky at best and non-existent at worst, James convinces his mother to travel to Fayetteville in Arkansas to convince Luanne to come and say goodbye to her son before it’s too late.

Oh, yeah: Did we mention Audrey is played by Julie Andrews, and Luanne is played by Ann-Margret? Mothers, indeed.

A Tale Of Two Mothers

Because Luanne refuses to fly, she and Audrey take a road trip back to San Diego (where James and Donald live), which of course brings out comedy, tension, and unexpected life lessons. What follows is a remarkably nuanced (though also quite stuck in its time) drama about two mothers coming to terms with the sexuality of their sons after years of brewing and unresolved emotions, and finding unexpected comfort and connection with each other. 

Although there is inherent contrast between the two women (one is a poised British lady, and the other a wig-wearing “hillbilly” that lives in a trailer) and the two obviously dislike each other at first sight, it doesn’t take long for them to realize they also have a lot in common.

Even when they arrive in San Diego, Luanne has several moments of panic and regret, almost deciding to fly back before meeting Donald for the first time in years. Not even seeing her boy bedridden, covered in bruises and on the verge of death is enough for her to fully embrace him. In the end, the two are able to make peace before Donald passes, but it’s implied this is just the beginning of a long process for her.

Mommies Dearest

Centering the point of view of the two mothers rather than the sons is a fascinating decision by the movie, but one that is very in line with the era’s societal climate around gay men and AIDS. At that time, the most surefire way to get people to empathize with patients was through the people around them, their loved ones. If a movie could get an audience to relate with upstanding, everyday mothers who did everything “right”—and if those mothers could find empathy and love for their gay children—maybe they could do it, too.

By making the emotional plight of the mothers the centerpiece (and sidelining or sometimes straight-up forgetting what the actual gay characters are going through), the intent was clearly to open the eyes and hearts of millions of other people that may find themselves in similar positions. And, especially as a television movie—airing on ABC a week after Mother’s Day in 1991—Our Sons was literally bringing these themes into the homes of families across the country.

Casting two icons of the screen in grounded, relatable roles was also used for the same purposes. Julie Andrews’ Audrey may be more open and embracing about her son’s homosexuality than Ann-Margret’s Luanne, but she is still very resistant to it. In one of the many scenes she shares with Hugh Grant, there is clear resentment over how Audrey chose to compartmentalize her son’s sexuality and partnered life, choosing to simply not think about it.

In many ways, she’s not all that different from Luanne, who consciously decided to cut her son out of her life. Both of them chose to not deal with what was in front of their eyes until life forced them to.

Mother Knows Best?

Our Sons is no cinematic masterpiece. It’s movie-of-the week schmaltz, with two actresses that elevate the material, but still turn out less-than-stellar performances.

But, more than a work of storytelling, it’s a window into how AIDS was talked about by mainstream audiences while the epidemic raged on, and how something as universally resonant as a mother figure was used as a channel (and a weapon) to force people to care.

These days, we may have the ability to tell our community’s stories ourself, but much like when we were children, it was our mothers who would stand up and speak up for us first.

Our Sons is available to stream via Freevee, Hoopla, Plex, Pluto TV, The Roku Channel, and Tubi.