Each competition in “Pose,” the boisterous, resplendent drama of the 1980s ball scene on FX, begins with a ritual phrase from Pray Tell (Billy Porter), the M.C. : “The category is …” That category — the theme to which teams dress, strut and, yes, pose — might be royalty, or the military or “Dynasty.” The categories are both a competitive challenge and a way of claiming social spaces from which the catwalking combatants, gay and transgender, black and Hispanic, have been excluded. “Pose,” which begins Sunday, is itself a space-claiming project. Viewers today might recognize the “category is” phrase from “RuPaul’s Drag Race” or know the slang, if not its provenance. But “Pose” puts its characters, subculture and history stage center. It stands, bold and plumed, and demands attention. Ryan Murphy (the co-creator, with Brad Falchuk and Steven Canals), in his last FX series before founding his Netflix empire, was also assiduous about hiring transgender actors and creative staff, including the author Janet Mock and Our Lady J (“Transparent”) as producers and writers.<doc-sep>“Pose,” like its own unsung heroes, is revolutionary. FX’s new drama devotes the kind of attention (and budget) that typically goes to conflicted straight male antiheros to the glittering grunge of New York City’s ballroom scene circa 1987. It centers LGBTQ communities whose ambitions are so much bigger than the infinitesimal spaces society affords them. It weaves stories of triumph and steel will with the creeping terror of the AIDS epidemic that constantly reminded everyone that this one wild night could very well be their last. Its stars are lost queer teens, hopeless romantic sex workers, defiant trans matriarchs. There’s simply never been a show on TV quite like “Pose” – a fact that “Pose” knows, relishes, and celebrates. “Pose” is also notable for being the last original series that uber-producer Ryan Murphy will produce for FX before launching a new empire at Netflix. “Pose’s” devotion to queer spectacle makes for a fitting final note, especially given Murphy’s purported business ethos of extending a hand beyond his own experiences to lift up others that would have a much harder time getting noticed without him. For one, Murphy co-created “Pose” with frequent producing partner Brad Falchuk and newcomer Steven Canals, whose script about New York’s queer scene couldn’t get made before Murphy signed on. For a significant other, “Pose” takes the rare extra step of having its trans characters be played and written by trans people who can actually speak to the experiences they’re portraying. (Episodes three and four are credited to “Transparent” writer Our Lady J and author Janet Mock, making her TV writing debut with “Pose.”) Some will undoubtedly recognize “Pose’s” ballroom jargon from the seminal 1990 documentary “Paris is Burning,” whose influence is all over the series. Far more, however, will know now ubiquitous phrases like “throwing shade” and “snatching wigs” from the pop culture juggernaut that is “RuPaul’s Drag Race,” the reality competition show that brought drag to the masses in 2009. While RuPaul knows he’s referencing ballroom emcees when kicking off every episode’s runway portion with “category is …”, it’s unlikely that many younger viewers have any idea that their favorite “Drag Race” catchphrases were actually coined decades ago by queer and trans people of color whose ingenuity could make even the dingiest of spaces come alive. “Pose” aims to make that oft-buried history vibrant and current, with all the glitter and heft that FX can give it. As “Pose’s” Blanca (MJ Rodriguez) puts it to wide-eyed newcomer Damon (Ryan Jamaal Swain) in the premiere, the ballroom scene made room for a “gathering of people who are not welcome to gather anywhere else, a celebration of a life that the rest of the world does not deem worthy of celebration.” Balls allowed the LGBTQ community to express the kind of glamorous creativity it couldn’t elsewhere by staging elaborate and defiant spectacles of fashion, dancing, and exquisitely pointed wit. There, likeminded people could find each other, build communities as distinctive “houses,” and, more powerfully still, choose each other as family. “Pose” introduces us to the unique magic of these chosen family dynamics by way of two competing “houses,” or collectives that band together in the name of solidarity and slaying ballroom challenges. The legendary House of Abundance is headed up by the statuesque Elektra (Dominique Jackson), who rules with a combination of killer cheekbones and acid disdain for anyone who would dare question her. The upstart House of Evangelista is born in the premiere when Blanca, once an Elektra devotee, strikes out on her own to make a name for herself and leave a lasting legacy while she still can. Elektra and Blanca disagree on most everything, but as transwomen fighting for the right to express and be themselves no matter the considerable cost, they begrudgingly respect each other’s ambition. While House of Abundance has legacy cachet, the House of Evangelista reigns supreme as far as “Pose’s” most compelling storytelling goes. Damon’s dance dreams take some time to coalesce as a narrative, but his fellow Evangelista recruit Angel (a luminescent Indya Moore) is instantly magnetic in her search for something, anything, resembling stability. Their new house mother Blanca is equal parts warm and determined as she becomes a strong backbone for both her fledgling house and the show itself. Rodriguez is especially good when paired with Billy Porter’s Pray Tell, a gifted designer and ballroom emcee who makes it his mission to find joy in his community even as AIDS keeps tearing a devastating hole right through it. “Pose” does make a glancing effort to include perspectives from outside the balls. Evan Peters takes a break from terrorizing innocents on Murphy’s “American Horror Story” to costar here as restless ladder climber Stan, whose beautiful wife (Kata Mara) and fancy new job at Trump Tower ­(yes, that Trump Tower) still can’t stave off his attraction to Angel’s sparkling smile and earnest charm. James Van Der Beek (yes, that James Van Der Beek) occasionally shows up as Stan’s oily caricature of a boss to encourage infidelity, snort cocaine, and proclaim “God bless Ronald Reagan.” Neither are particularly fascinating, but it bears repeating that on the vast majority of other TV shows out there, Peters and Beek would be the stars. On “Pose,” they’re sidenotes. In fact, given its sprawling cast of characters and perpetually swollen runtime (each of the first four episodes runs at least an hour long), “Pose” can sometimes feel like it’s tackling everything all at once just because it can. But it proves just about impossible to hold “Pose’s” ambition against it. In true House of Murphy tradition, “Pose” is blunt and opulent, confident in its individuality and palpably eager to please. Even when it stumbles, it’s hard not to admire its electric spirit. TV Review: ‘Pose’ Drama series (8 episodes, 4 reviewed): FX, Sun. June 3, 9 pm Credits: Executive producers: Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk, Nina Jacobson, Brad Simpson, Alexis Martin Woodall, Sherry Marsh, Steven Canals, Silas Howard. Cast: MJ Rodriguez, Dominique Jackson, Indya Moore, Ryan Jamaal Swain, Hallie Sahar, Angelica Ross, Dyllon Burnside, Angel Bismark Curiel, Billy Porter, Evan Peters, Kate Mara, James Van Der Beek.<doc-sep>While Ryan Murphy may be the big name behind FX’s Pose, don’t expect this look at the uptown drag ball scene in 1980s New York City to be another American Horror Story, or even another Feud. Murphy’s the mover and the shaker on this project, but it’s writer a queer artist of color Steven Canals who brought this idea for a show about drag houses and the ball scene to him. It’s a show that made headlines for casting a record number of trans performers in lead roles, so there’s a good bit of hope and expectation on the padded shoulders of the House of Evangelista. POSE: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT? Opening Shot: A title card (NEW YORK CITY, 1987) and a closeup on a shimmery disco ball give way to the loft apartment of the House of Abundance, home to the legendary children of house mother Elektra Abundance (Dominique Jackson). In the foreground, a pair of dancers practice their vogueing. The Gist: Tired of living under the domineering thumb of Elektra, Blanca (Mj Rodriguez) sets out to start her own house, the House of Evangelista. Along with her house sister Angel (Indya Moore), Blanca begins by recruiting Damon (Ryan Jamaal Swain), a talented young dancer who’s been kicked out of his home for being gay. With humble means and under intense scrutiny, House Evangelista kicks off a rivalry with Abundance that electrifies the uptown drag ball scene. Presided over by emcee Pray Tell (Billy Porter), the balls are a place for the the ostracized members of the NYC queer community — even those who are shunned by their own — to come together, assume the dress/posture/realness of those who would exclude them, stomp that runway and compete like their lives depend on it. As Pray Tell would say, THAT is how you do a Ball. Our Take: It’s interesting that this is a Ryan Murphy show, for a few reasons. On one level it seems obvious, because anything gay or queer on Fox or FX is a Ryan Murphy product. They don’t recognize any other gay talent. But watching even just one hour of this show, it doesn’t feel quite the same as other Murphy products have. This is good; it’s exciting. Yes, the tone is big, bright, and over-the-top, but it’s not the high camp that Murphy often features. While Murphy’s tendency to jab at Hollywood or our culture’s fascination with murder and mayhem serves his other shows well, the fact that Pose centers on a subculture that’s been massively underserved in media and culture means it deserves our attention more urgently than it deserves the Ryan Murphy treatment. Make no mistake, the drag balls as presented on the show are sleek, elegant, and celebratory; Billy Porter’s energetic and commanding performance as Pray Tell sees to that. Watching the House of Abundance take to the runway in their freshly pilfered regal finery is some of the most inspirationally fabulous TV you’re gonna see. But this is a show about characters, too, and there’s a deep empathy for the lives of Blanca, Damon, Angel, even the often stuff and imposing Elektra. As the series moves on, we get more and more about these people’s lives. The ’80s were frontier times for the LGBTQ community. Forging ahead into new territory while fighting for survival amid a plague from which no one in the power structure of America seemed interested in saving them. Pose gets that. The result is a show that is fierce yet familial, combining the high eleganza of drag with an empathetic look at the queer people of color whose stories simply never get told. It’s an important show, but it’s also a hell of a good time. Sex and Skin: Why certainly. Much of the sexiest scenes in the show’s early going come from the side plot involving Angel and her mistress relationship with Stan (Evan Peters), a wayward finance bro who works for the Trump Organization (sigh, yeah, him). Stan’s story gets too much attention, with Peters, Kate Mara (as his wife) and James Van Der Beek (as his American Psycho of a boss), but his scenes with Angel are certainly sexy. And to be honest, the way the show explores the melting pot of desire, identity, sex, and love happening in that relationship, it starts to work within a few episodes as well. Parting Shot: Having found a home in House Evangelista, Damon auditions for a dance company, impressing the instructor (Charlayne Woodard) and getting his big break. I’d set it as a tie between Mj Rodriguez, who anchors the biggest storyline and instantly pulls you into her world, and Billy Porter, whose Tony-winning theater chops are put to good work delivering commentary and judgment from the drag-ball podium, then later emerging as a real-deal character with inner struggles and desires and pain. He’s a wonder. Most Pilot-y Line: “A House is a family you get to choose,” Blanca tells Damon as she makes her pitch to him. A lot of the audience is not going to have the familiarity with drag houses (watch Paris Is Burning, people, you won’t regret it), so there’s some work to be done to establish this world. The mythologizing of the chosen-family nature of the drag houses feels blunt, but their importance in queer history should not be underestimated. Our Call: Stream It! Enthusiastically. Welcome this elegance and realness into your life. Where to stream Pose<doc-sep>
One of the central "houses" in the world of Pose, Ryan Murphy's new FX drama about LGBTQ communities and drag ball culture in 1980s New York, is known as the House of Abundance. But the series is its own house of abundance, a sometimes overstuffed extravaganza brimming with feeling, style and glitter. Pose (Sunday, 9 ET/PT, ★★★ out of four) is a bold and colorful show, with (as FX has been quick to publicize) the largest cast of transgender actors in a regular series. But Pose is more than an act of stunt casting. It needs these actors, and LGBTQ writers, to tell the stories of the young, mostly black and Latin gay men and transgender women who flocked to the city, sometimes after being kicked out of their homes and living on the streets. Pose's great strength lies in its writers' love for their subjects, in the delicate and realistic way the series shows their pains and joys, from facing discrimination to earning a trophy at a ball. Pose eases viewers into its world, offering a user-friendly pilot episode. The drag ball scene is slightly different than drag queen shows seen on RuPaul's Drag Race. The contestants "walk" in various categories, and drag isn't limited to men dressing as women. They are often members of those "houses," self-selected families with a mother figure who live together. More:Ryan Murphy's FX 'Pose': Get ready for largest transgender cast on TV Pose focuses on Blanca (Mj Rodriguez), a transgender woman who, after being diagnosed with HIV, decides to pursue her dreams and rebel against her house mother, Elektra (Dominique Jackson), and start her own house, hoping to pass on the care and protection she received to other young people. Her first "child" is Damon (Ryan Jamaal Swain), a gay teen and aspiring dancer, who has been sleeping in Central Park since his homophobic parents kicked him out. Blanca's House of Evangelista also includes Angel (Indya Moore), a transgender sex worker, who captures the eye of her john, Stan (Evan Peters), a white, suburban Trump Organization employee. Aside from Peters, Kate Mara (as Stan's wife) and James Van Der Beek (Stan's boss), the cast features mostly unknowns, with a breakout performance by Moore as Angel. She is torn between the life and family she has — earning money on the street and at Times Square peep shows, walking in the balls, living in a house — and the one she wants — the picturesque suburban life Stan has and feels constricted by. Moore is enthralling, (on and off the ballroom floor), and her chemistry with Peters is electric. For all its glitz and costumes and shade, Pose is a soapy drama about families, identities and often-tragic relationships. It's an emotional series that sometimes suffers from an overabundance of sentiment and unrealistic dialogue, a common problem in Murphy's series, especially Glee and American Horror Story. The connection to President Trump, while period-appropriate, feels a bit forced, and designed to give the show a topicality. But name-checking is not necessary for relevance: Some LGBTQ people still struggle with discrimination and trying to carve their places in the world, even if things have improved a bit in the past 30 years. Pose also has similarities to other Murphy shows: It's big, it's loud, it's unapologetic and it has an ample sense of fun. Just like the balls.