The Floating Rib: So Mr. Murty is Gay--Not That There's Anything Wrong with That...Or is There? by Joan Roseman

On Monday, August 3, Elizabeth Webber, her friend Lucky and over a million viewing households learned that contrary to the two teenagers' long-held suspicions, Elizabeth's rapist was not their high school teacher Mr. Murty. At the cost of a serious injury to Lucky and Elizabeth's coming to the brink of homicide, they learned that not only was Murty not her attacker, he was the closeted half of a long-established gay couple. Curiouser still, Murty was himself convinced that she, Elizabeth, knew the secret of his sexual identity.

That's right: no way could Mr. Murty be responsible for Elizabeth's terror, rage and humiliation over the months since Valentine's Day. He had an alibi for the night of the crime, supplied by his doctor/lover Richard and capable of being verified, we were told, by two female--presumably lesbian--friends. Whoever raped Liz was still out there, but it wasn't--could never have been--good old Mr. Murty. It was all a tragic mistake. Wasn't it?

Having lived for months with Elizabeth Webber's anguish and her growing conviction that her English teacher was the man responsible for her rape, I confess to feeling outraged myself--outraged at the glib, hastily slapped-together denouement for a previously well thought out, well executed dramatic arc. I find it hard to believe that the same writers who have taken us slowly and carefully through one of the most realistic, chilling depictions of rape and its consequences would suddenly, in the space of one episode, wrap up a major thread with a pathetically flimsy piece of string and expect it to hold fast.

Not being of an inordinately suspicious nature I will accept as a given that Mr. Murty is not Liz's rapist. Further, I will stipulate that he was never intended to be Liz's rapist. I accept that we may never know who dragged her off a snowy bench on the night of February 14, ending her childhood and forever robbing her of her innocence. What I don't accept is the haste in which Murty was, at one and the same time, cleared of suspicion and provided with an alibi we--and these children--are to trust as ironclad. Mr. Murty cannot be Liz's rapist because Mr. Murty was out--no pun intended--listening to Port Charles' Lesbian and Gay Chorus at their Valentine's Day concert. In fact, the subtext of his alibi is that Mr. Murty cannot be Elizabeth's rapist because he is gay. Not that a gay man isn't capable of rape, but that this gay man was too afraid--of Elizabeth--to even think of raping her.

The set up was replete with detail. For my money, it was the sheer weight of detail that has defeated this scenario of two frightened people misreading each other. Far from being a wife-beater, we are told Mr. Murty is a closeted gay man who married young but left his marriage while the mortgage of their new home was not yet dry. It was not he who lived there with the present Port Charles Grille waitperson, it was another, violent man who was the object of the 911 police call. For the past eight years (five of which were spent documented with photographs, while we are left to wonder if they lost their way to Fotomat during the remaining three) Murty has lived with Richard, a heretofore-invisible doctor on a soap crammed with doctors. (No matter, he probably works at Mercy.) His lover obliging provides all of the exonerating proof, and Lucky has only to look at their photograph to know it must be true. The two cohabit; display family photographs; attend gay social events in company with gay friends. It sounds like an idyllic life. After all, this is 1998, and however far from New York City or San Francisco this soap opera town is, they do put on a Ball each year to fund AIDS research. So what part of that existence points to a man terrified of exposure by a minor child? It seems improbable at the very least.

Even if Mr. Murty were afraid of being outed and ousted by a disapproving school board, even if it made sense that he would be openly gay everywhere but at school and expect his secret to be secure, we are still left with the basic problem inherent in this little script of gay man intimidated by 95-pound teenager. He sure didn't act like a man in fear.

The one consistently false note to this whitewash of Mr. Murty is his behavior since debuting on General Hospital. Mr. Murty does not fade into the woodwork, as a deeply closeted gay man would. In fact, Mr. Murty is the most conspicuously in-your-face teacher in Port Charles history. Everything about Mr. Murty is excessive--he is overly familiar and overly hearty, he inserts himself into conversations unasked and unwanted, he plunges himself into situations more cautious teachers know how to avoid. He is, in a word, inappropriate. He is so inappropriate that he draws attention to himself instead of deflecting it, which is presumably what someone not wishing to become conspicuous would do. It plain doesn't make sense.

The only reason Mr. Murty is gay, as far as I can see, is to provide viewers with a shorthand reason to accept that he is innocent. Putting aside the rational caveat that rape, a crime of violence and domination, is well within the capability of a gay man, we are assured that THIS gay man couldn't and didn't rape Elizabeth, case closed. Or, rather, case probably never closed. It is a slipshod, sloppy and ultimately unsatisfactory solution, and the reason for such haste escapes me. Whatever we may see of Mr. Murty in the weeks to come, the dissatisfaction will linger like the odor of spicy soap. One thing's for sure: a shocked "I had no idea" and an offer of a ride home is pretty cold comfort to a student who has been living a walking nightmare for months. But the situation itself--the intriguing fact of Murty and his Richard--does leaves me with several questions.

1. Will we see more of Richard? We may see more of Murty, but I doubt we will have a chance to find out much more about his doctor friend, such as where Richard practices, or what his specialty is. Richard is a Walking Plot Device. He has provided his lover with an alibi, a back-story and a plausibly way to dispose of a bleeding teenager on the hearthrug. What more can we ask of him? We should thank him for the economical, tidy way he did his job and wish him Godspeed.
2. Where do the gay elite meet to eat and greet in Port Charles? Is there Out Night at the Outback? Does Luke throw open the back room on slow nights?
3. Why haven't we heard the Lesbian and Gay Chorus at the Nurses Ball? This is certainly a grievous oversight on the part of organizer extraordinary Lucy Coe. Even if Lucy hasn't heard of them, surely her friend and employee Don---formerly the only gay man in Port Charles--would have heard of them! Let's all make a note to remind Lucy in April or May, just in case she is too busy siphoning gas to book them.
4. On a more serious note, now that Murty knows that Elizabeth mistook his wildly misleading manner for that of a rapist, will he continue to bully, physically intimidate and humiliate his female students, or will he perhaps devote himself to stimulating minds rather than adrenal glands? I hope so.