Author & columnist, featured on HBO, NPR, and in The New York Times
Nathan Lane, the human equivalent of a Broadway marquee, shines in a career that’s less of a path and more of a glorious parade route. From prancing in "The Birdcage" to goose-stepping in "The Producers," Lane's trophy case is as stuffed as his roles are flamboyant.
He's not just Tony the Tiger on Broadway; he’s the whole cereal box, with Emmy and Golden Globe nods to boot. Lane's career is like a fine wine – it only gets more fabulous with age. That's why we he's at the top of our Gay Actors Guide.
Picture Nathan Lane: a man whose stature might not reach the top shelf, but whose presence could fill the Grand Canyon. Standing at an unassuming 5 feet 5 inches, he's the proof that dynamite comes in small packages.
His hair, a distinguished mix of wisdom and late-night TV appearances, and those eyes – windows to a soul that's danced more cha-chas than a 'Dancing with the Stars' marathon. He's the poster child for "expressive face syndrome," turning every emotion into a masterclass of comedic gold.
Lane, in a plot twist that could rival any of his plays, married Devlin Elliott, a playwright and producer, in 2015. They’re like the dynamic duo of the arts scene, minus the capes and tights. Kids? None. But they’ve got a dog, Mabel, who’s probably more pampered than any Broadway diva.
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Before he was the toast of Broadway, Lane just another kid with a dream in Jersey City. Born as Joseph Lane, he kicked off his career in the rough-and-tumble world of New Jersey's club circuit – not exactly the Great White Way, but it's where stars are born, right?
By the tender age of 21, Nathan had made his off-Broadway debut in "The Jerk" (1982). But wait, there's a twist – he had to change his name because there was already a 'Joseph Lane' in the actor's union. So, he took inspiration from Nathan Detroit, a character in "Guys and Dolls."
Fast forward through a few more off-Broadway gigs, and Lane found himself in the limelight with 1987's "Present Laughter," his Broadway debut. It wasn't all jazz hands and curtain calls; this guy put in the work, treading the boards in lesser-known productions, honing his craft, and probably nursing a few bruised egos along the way.
Nathan Lane's journey to stardom wasn't a meteoric rise; it was more of a steady climb with a few lucky breaks thrown in. Sure, his Broadway debut in "Present Laughter" (1987) was a hit, but it was "The Lisbon Traviata" (1989) that really turned heads. Critics sat up and took notice, and Lane started to be seen as more than just a funny face.
Then came "Guys and Dolls" in 1992, where he played Nathan Detroit – talk about full circle, right? This role didn’t just win him a Tony nomination; it cemented his status as a Broadway heavyweight. But the real game-changer? "The Birdcage" (1996).
Lane's portrayal of Albert, the flamboyant drag queen, was not only a box office smash but also a cultural milestone. It was this role that catapulted him from Broadway fame to Hollywood recognition, proving that his talent was as big as his personality.
Clearly, Nathan Lane is one of the greatest
gay celebrities of all time.
"Lane's comedic shtick can get old fast. It's all mugging and bluster, no real substance. He coasts on his reputation and overplays every joke."
"He's just not a convincing villain. There's a twinkle in his eye that gives everything away. You can never truly fear him, just wait for the next punchline."
"He takes up all the oxygen in the room, leaving nothing for the rest of the cast. It's the Nathan Lane show, not an ensemble piece."
• Jonathan Groff, actor and colleague in "The Addams Family Musical"
"His political pronouncements are grating. He uses his platform to preach to the choir instead of engaging in nuanced conversations."
"He's become a caricature of himself. He plays the same flamboyant gay characters over and over again, offering no depth or variety."
Armistead Maupin, author and LGBTQ+ rights advocate
Picture it: the year 2000 was still five dial-up modems away, Britney Spears hadn't discovered denim yet, and our favorite Broadway bad boy was at the peak of his "Birdcage"-era fabulousness. And then, BAM! He drops the rainbow confetti bomb on The New York Times, casually mentioning his partner like it was no big deal (except it totally was).
Cue the internet exploding slower than a 56k modem downloading porn. Fans were either living for the ~representation~, clutching their pearls harder than a nun at a drag show, or scratching their heads like they just found a Tamagotchi battery in their purse.
LGBTQ+ folks saw a goddamn unicorn prancing down Broadway, proving you could be both gay and slay on stage. Meanwhile, conservative commentators choked on their Diet Cokes, sputtering about the sanctity of marriage and the downfall of Western civilization.
But Lane? He just kept on being Lane, slinging one-liners sharper than Dorothy Parker's wit and rocking fabulous outfits that would make Liberace jealous. His coming out wasn't some tearful Oprah confessional; it was a sassy wink from the back row, a middle finger to outdated norms, and a neon sign screaming, "Hey, your intolerance can't handle my sparkle!"
Sure, it wasn't all glitter and rainbows. There were whispers, side-eye glances, and maybe a few cancelled dinner reservations. But Lane's act of visibility paved the way for a whole generation of LGBTQ+ actors to strut their stuff without fear. He showed them that you could be openly gay, own your fabulousness, and still conquer Broadway, Hollywood, and probably win a staring contest with Cher.
So next time you see Lane belting out a show tune or making you snort-laugh in a sitcom, remember that he's not just a comedic genius; he's a pioneer who helped rewrite the script on LGBTQ+ visibility. He's the sassy uncle who taught us that living your truth is the ultimate mic drop, and that sometimes, the best way to fight discrimination is with a killer punchline and a fabulous sequined cape. Now, that's a story worthy of a standing ovation.