Fellow Travelers has been on my watch list since Showtime first released it as a limited series in 2023. Of course, since we don't subscribe to Showtime, I kept waiting--in vain--for it to show up on Blu-ray. Thanks to a tip from our friend, George, we were able to watch all 8 episodes this week on Paramount+ with Showtime, where various movies and TV series have been airing during a one-week free trial. Based on a 2007 novel by Thomas Mallon, Fellow Travelers chronicles the relationship between four men navigating the perilous political landscape of McCarthy-era Washington, and beyond. In 1952, young Tim Laughlin, a devout Catholic and fervent seeker of justice, aspires to join Senator Joe McCarthy's efforts to purge the government (and the nation) of Communists. With the aid of hatchet man, Roy Cohn, McCarthy conducts a reign of terror throughout the capital that will eventually spread all the way to Hollywood. Televised trials of suspected "Reds" are the order of the day, although the naive Tim believes McCarthy to be a great patriot and is unaware that he, himself, might eventually be targeted by the witch hunt. Because, it turns out, the barbarous McCarthy and Cohn also aim to rid the government of all "moral degenerates", suspected queers being at the top of the list. It is the beginning of the Lavendar Scare, which existed in tandem with the Red Scare. 

At a political fundraiser, Tim is approached by the handsome Hawkins "Hawk" Fuller, an ambitious war hero making his way up the ranks in the State Department. Hawk is a dominant, one-night ass-bandit who is not above dishing out a bit of rough sex to his tricks. Very aware of the position he would find himself in, should any of his superiors (or subordinates) discover his secret, Hawk comes across as hyper-masculine. Naturally, Tim and Hawk begin a tumultuous affair. Shortly afterwards, (through Hawk's intervention) Tim is hired to work as a staffer in McCarthy's office. Of course, being a stealthy, self-centered shit, Hawk has his own motives for his apparent "kindness".  He needs dirt on McCarthy and Cohn so he can serve it up to respected Senator and anti-McCarthyite Wesley Smith, who looks upon Hawk as a son, and future groom for daughter, Lucy. Hawk does nothing to dissuade Smith or Lucy from the idea that he has romantic designs on the young woman, even as he continues sleeping with smitten, clueless Tim. 

Meanwhile, Marcus Gaines, a reporter for a small, black newspaper, rages at the segregation covertly taking place in his city. As a black man, he isn't even allowed to report from the room where the McCarthy hearings are taking place. On the surface--aside from color--Marcus isn't all that different from Hawk: he also prowls on the down-low, picking up and discarding strangers with ruthless ease. In fact, Marcus and Hawk are uneasy allies who almost had a sexual encounter once that didn't pan out when they discovered that they were both tops. Marcus writes a diatribe against the mistreatment of blacks in the nation's capital and soon comes to the attention of an editor from the Washington Post. Impressed with Marcus's passionate reporting, the Post asks him to work for them. This offer doesn't come without concessions. Perhaps--initially, anyway--the most egregious concession is the requirement that Marcus use a restroom on a floor separate from the white employees. His editor shakes his head and bemoans that fact but, unfortunately, he says, that's the way it is for now, the implication being that changes could be coming. One of the racist senior reporters takes an immediate dislike to Marcus and begins his own campaign of bullying. 

At night, Marcus occasionally hangs out in an underground club called the Cozy Corner which serves as a sort of de facto community center/entertainment venue for queer people. (The Cozy Corner was, in fact, an actual gay club that existed in DC during the 1950's). One of the club's main performers is the drag queen Frankie, a gorgeous tough cookie who has a soft spot for Marcus. 

The predatory Hawk also makes occasional forays to the Cozy Corner to see if he can find a little action. While Marcus and Hawk are far from best friends, they are fellow travelers who share the same secret, making them comrades of a sort. They confide carefully selected details with one another and have the same instinct for self-preservation that often leaves friends and would-be lovers betrayed and abandoned. When Marcus finally takes Frankie as a semi-regular bedmate, it is not a smooth transition. Despite being small and effeminate, Frankie more than holds his own with the independent Marcus (and with the white club owners who want to exploit Frankie's talent), and Marcus eventually comes to appreciate his fearlessness. As often happened in the past, there is a raid on the Cozy Corner, which scatters our characters in different directions.

Across town, alpha-daddy Hawk continues his furtive assignations with the dreamy-eyed Tim, whom he has taken to calling Skippy. Theirs is a fraught liaison, with Hawk's fear of being outed conflicting with Tim's desire for a deeper connection, a mutual love he knows he can never have. Through the years, Hawk does attempt to help Tim secure employment, and provides sanctuary in times of trouble, but, as usual, Hawk generally has ulterior motives, chiefly among them, getting Tim back into bed. Hawk marries Lucy, and Tim realizes that he was taken for a fool by both McCarthy and Hawk. Bereft, Tim joins the military, where he is further disillusioned by America's growing involvement in Vietnam. Hawk buys a large home in the suburbs and starts a family.

Over decades, Marcus and Frankie settle into a shaky relationship that ebbs and flows with Marcus's continued need to remain semi-closeted, and Frankie becoming more involved in activism, as they make a move to San Francisco. Somehow, they remain together even with Marcus stopping off at bathhouses now and then. 

Against his better judgment, Tim comes running every time Hawk summons him and, each time, Tim's heart breaks a little more. What is wrong with this man? Tim is sincere and genuinely decent while Hawk is emphatically not. Tim's constant willingness to run back for more torment (and, granted, hot sex) feels masochistic. In fact, his relationship with Hawk has a distinct S&M flavor from the very beginning. While maybe not a full-fledged sadist, Hawk certainly has the makings of one. In private, he refers to Tim as "my boy", and the Skippy nickname feels a bit demeaning to me, especially as the men grow older. Hawk's cruelty through the years, intentional or otherwise, seems unforgivable. 

Spanning decades, Fellow Travelers takes us from the Eisenhower years, through the tumultuous 60's. to the libidinous gay liberation movement of the 70's (including Harvey Milk's assassination and the Far Right's determination to make gays go away), to the AIDS years when many of us did go away due, partly, to the inhumane neglect of the Reagan Administration. The characters in Fellow Travelers, while not always likeable, are believable. Some get a happy-ish ending while others don't. Having read quite a lot of gay history and speaking to gentlemen who vividly remember those days of fear and loathing, I was impressed that the screenplay stuck to provable facts and seems to get everything right. 

There is not a bad performance in the entire series. Matt Bomer, usually the sweet, sensitive, white hot glamor boy gets to stretch his acting abilities here as Hawk, and he's really good.  Bomer has always struck me as having a somewhat passive personality (don't ask me why) but in this series he's a bulked-up, sexually voracious, verbally aggressive master. He's also a sneaky and narcissistic coward in his dealings with Tim, Lucy, his children, his mother, his friends--literally everyone who comes into his life. Bomer's portrayal of Hawk is, in fact, so excellent that, by the time I was halfway through the series, I hated, hated, hated his character. C and I both thought of Hawk as a villain in the series, though his villainy doesn't quite reach the levels of Joe McCarthy (an excellent Chris Bauer) and Roy Cohn (a very scary Will Brill). Still, we were hoping to see Hawk get his eventual comeuppance in the end. 

British actor Jonathan Bailey also stands out as Tim, the young newcomer who never gives up on Hawk or on his own goals. With his black, nerdy glasses and messy hair, Bailey's Tim is a diamond-in-the-rough, a nerdily appealing dreamer who has high hopes for a healthier America and an unobstructed future with the man he loves. In scene after scene, Bailey's pain is our pain as he tolerates Hawk's callousness and the gradual dissolution of the bubble he's been living in. As I said before, I found it extremely irritating that Tim would even consider speaking to Hawk after all he put him through, but, in retrospect, I've seen men (and women) who've done exactly that with people who were no good for them. It's not the actor's fault if Tim frequently winds up as Hawk's doormat.

Jelani Alladin, as Marcus, is everything that I'd expect a black, gay man living in a heavily segregated America to be. His anger is fiery and righteous, and Alladin exudes a powerful energy that burns right through his scenes. He brings a commanding presence to the role of Marcus, even when he's behaving badly. Almost stealing the show's thunder is Noah J. Ricketts as drag artist Frankie, a combination of tough and tender who inhabits the character with absolute conviction. In some scenes, Ricketts reminded me so much of the late singer, Prince, that I could see him playing that role in a future biopic should it ever come about. 

As Lucy, Allison Williams is a haughty, icy presence, a rich, pampered princess worn down by years of neglect, tragedy and knowing. While I don't especially like Lucy (much less love her), Williams has a nice understanding of the character, and turns her initial vivacity into, first, a hardened desperation, and, finally, a studied chilliness that is understandable given the circumstances. Linus Roache is sympathetic as Lucy's father, a United States senator who is undone by the tenor of the times and the excesses of his profligate son (Mike Taylor). Playing Hawk's stiff-upper-lip mother, the prolific actor Rosemary Dunsmore also excels in her all-too-brief scenes.  

There is much to like and admire about Fellow Travelers but the sudden jumping from one decade to another became annoying for me. In a major way. Normally, I don't mind a bit of back and forth, from past to present and back again. But here, the action may be taking place in 1954 and then, instantaneously, we're transported to 1980 to a completely different scene unfolding. If this contrivance were used sparingly, with the plot covering two separate decades, it would be one thing, but it's a tall order when the storyline moves through almost four decades of these characters' lives. In some cases, I could only determine the decade by the cars being driven on city streets, and until the 1980's segments, Bomer's character barely seems to age, while Bailey unconvincingly alters his appearance through changing hairstyles and facial hair. It all gets a bit confusing. Also, I--and I may be in the minority--found the chemistry between Bomer and Bailey lacking. Despite many--many--steamy sex scenes I felt a growing tedium creeping in after awhile. Don't get me wrong, I'll all about steamy sex scenes but something about the Bomer-Bailey scenes didn't ring exactly true: I could easily see them being friends and fellow travelers, but all the frenzied passion seemed a bit forced, I don't know why. Maybe it's because I thought Bomer's character was such a total dick that I couldn't suspend my disbelief enough to buy Bailey's undying devotion to him. That's on me if that is the case. 

Overall, I thought Fellow Travelers was a compelling, well-researched, sometimes moving/sometimes manipulative series that successfully captures the essence of the eras in which it unfolds. Given that national, state and local governments are, to this day, filled with spineless weasels, homophobes, racists and grifters, I can't help drawing parallels to this series, what transpired in the past, and what it portends for our future.