Our Flag Means Death (2022-), Part 2: History, Identity & Beards
DISCLAIMER: The following contains spoilers for the 2022 HBOmax series “Our Flag Means Death”
Our Flag Means Death is a period comedy and a work of fiction inspired by a true story…it is not meant to be historically accurate at every turn. The script is infused with many modern references and influences which are paired with historical background and allusions to real, everyday life that ring true in both the past and present. Something I admire so greatly about the show and is executed so very well is this balance and the respect for the people who were subjected to these types of lives and the realities of this era, while interwoven with satirical humor which reimagines historically inspired scenes. David Jenkins addresses this himself in an interview where he states that of course slavery exists in this world, but they “didn’t want to make trauma porn”.
By the end of the 17th century and the beginning of the 18th century, the ancient phenomenon of piracy had thoroughly manifested into what would be referred to in the history books as the “Golden Age of Piracy”. It took hold of the Caribbean and greatly influenced the culture of the region to this day. A large majority of the people who became the pirates of this era were made up of two primary demographics– buccaneers who were largely made up of former soldiers from the colonial wars between the Spanish and English, and former (as well as current) enslaved African and Indigenous people. There were pirates whose backgrounds differed, but these made up the majority.
The plantation system of the Caribbean contributed greatly to the influx of piracy in the region, probably just as much or more than the colonial wars did (of course both of these causes were driven by colonial economy and reasons that are entwined). Neither of these correlations were mutually exclusive in their cause and effect on Caribbean culture, colonial society and the world of piracy that resulted. The slavery and indentured servitude which occurred on the plantations of the Caribbean were especially horrific. No good will come out of comparing the atrocities of different times and places…but it is clear that what happened on these plantations as a result of the transatlantic slave trade were absolutely and immeasurably appalling…therefore, of course these profoundly oppressed individuals would often escape the plantations and make their way to the ports, where they’d try to find a marauding ship to board.
The pirates of African and indigenous descent were not always former slaves and their descendents were not always runaways. Maroon communities, which were groups of formerly enslaved people and their descendents who settled in remote mountains and islands, were often raided by pirate crews, and members of these communities were kidnapped and forced into piracy. In these situations, they were forced into a different form of slavery. Not only were enslaved Africans victims of this, but so were the Maya and other Native American communities of the region. These peoples were terrorized to immeasurable degrees, and many were dragged away and forced to work under horrible conditions on pirate hoards.
So many of the characters on OFMD represent these historically underrepresented demographics. To harken back to Oluwande’s line from the pilot episode… “we don’t do this because we want to. We do this because we don’t have any other choice.” Oluwande, and many others on that very ship and those that came before them…were literally forced into this life…and they carry this trauma with them. Stede’s ignorant response to Oluwande’s persistent attempt to steer his floundering captain away from getting himself and his poor crew killed, is quite the stark, relevant note. Stede essentially compares his own circumstances of having to be in this type of life, which simply isn’t true, to Oluwande and Jim’s circumstances…which is exceedingly tone deaf of him. Connecting this thread to episode 2, when the crew find themselves beached on an island that is still under the control of its indigenous inhabitants, Stede and Pete display more white ignorance in response to the tribal people’s appropriate distrust of “the light skins”. Stede pleads that he isn’t a colonizer…he’s a pirate! As if that doesn’t warrant distrust from these people who have been under attack from many sides. As the chief himself responds here-
Chief: “Yeah…well, we’ve kinda heard that one before. First time light skins wiped out the tribe…shame on them. The eighth time? Shame on us. It’s nothing personal.”
Oluwande’s involvement and mediation between his “light skin” companions and with the tribal elders saves the day for our naive gentleman Stede, and on top of all of that, our shaken up captain also receives some talk therapy from one of the kind elders of the tribe. Perhaps the white characters and audiences alike can learn something from these plot points, and maybe audiences of other racial backgrounds can find humor and catharsis in its relevance.
OFMD does an excellent job of respecting the realities of this era by not romanticizing piracy, specifically where race is concerned. The pirate ship wasn’t just some big, integrated utopia of colonial resistance. There was an aspect of this piracy in which it was a lifestyle of active resistance against colonialism…and there were situations where these marginalized groups banded together and some where there were white leaders who weren’t solely perpetuating the racist subjugation on their ships…and also there were pirate crews that included no white people whatsoever. But these examples would not have been the majority. These types of floating havens did occur, and it is interesting and beneficial to imagine ways that could have been, but I appreciate that OFMD doesn’t romanticize it.
One of the reasons “racebending” is a thing in modern film, television and theater is because people who are ethnically other than “white” need to be represented in stories too…and so many stories that are classically told haven’t included them, or take place in a setting where someone who isn’t white wouldn’t necessarily be cast. Conversely, so many films and television series that predominantly star black and brown people, especially period pieces, are tragic and traumatic in nature. But people lived these stories…many, many, many lives have moved through terrible circumstances…and not all of these stories have been pure tragedy and defeat. These millions of lives experienced not only the dark, but the light too…and these stories where there is joy and humor should get told as well. Life is not one note, and these characters deserve layered representation. OFMD shines a spotlight on the gradient of the pain and joy of the lives of these characters, and in doing so, doesn’t negate nor deny the existence of the subjugation they faced at the hands of oppression, while also showing moments of victory against the oppressive forces they faced. It’s important to understand that there isn’t much “racebending” in OFMD…much of it is accurate representation of the demographics of the people who led these lives.
Although not much is known about the personal details of the historical Blackbeard, it is assumed that Edward Teach was a white, British man. In OFMD, the character isn’t played by a white, British actor…but by a multiracial indigenous kiwi by the name of Taika Waititi…and boy oh boy does this make me happy…I think I already made it pretty clear that I’m a fan of the guy in Part 1 of this larger piece.
Our Flag Means Death is loosely based on a true story…and in this interpretation of the historical tale, the show’s Blackbeard is a biracial person of Maori and European parentage to reflect the actor who plays him. This is canon, as the creator has stated himself, and this direction is backed by the casting of Edward’s mother in the flashback scenes, and I really appreciate that the ethnicities of these actors also match the integrity of this interpretation. It’s not a focus, and it’s not talked about directly, but it is most definitely clear and canon.
Sure, Aotorea and Maori society was quite isolated and wasn’t involved with global (namely European) powers until the early 17th century, and it was a slow colonization that the Maori people staved off for hundreds of years until the mid-late 19th century.
Because this is art, and this is an interpretive, period piece of television and it’s not claiming to be anything other than that…I see nothing wrong with reimagining the ethnic backgrounds of some of the characters. If anything, the inclusion of polynesian and south asian characters just adds another layer of thematic resonance when it comes to the themes of colonialism, especially that of island cultures. The introduction of European seafaring exploration and piracy in the pacific was on a later timeline, and the shit didn’t really hit the fan until well after OFMD takes place, but this show incorporating the existence of these characters, whether it would have been very likely or not in a historically accurate sense, in my opinion, fits tonally. There’s something respectful and appropriate about the choice to have the characters reflect the racial identity of the actors who play them.
The themes of class and race are satirized most poignantly in Episode 5. The undercurrent of Ed’s insecurities and trauma around his upbringing as an impoverished person of mixed racial descent are subtext here, and a flashback that reveals some of the details of his childhood is triggered when one of their merchant captives from a raid calls him a “donkey”. This is not only a stab at Ed’s class and criminality…it also alludes to an actual racist slur that was used by European colonizers directed towards Polynesian people.
One of the most genius subplots of OFMD, in my opinion, has to be in Episode 5 which follows Frenchie’s and Oluwande’s clever and subversive shenanigans aboard the party ship full of hoity toity Prussians. This excursion is interwoven with a brilliant satire on the now debunked, study of phrenology, which was a theoretical study based in the notion that one’s intelligence and character can be deduced from the shape of one’s skull. Phrenology was viewed as critical proof towards white supremacy and racism, and was used in efforts to support slavery and racial domination during this colonial era. To remind you of the plot of episode 5, which I touched on previously, it follows Stede and Ed, accompanied by Frenchie and Oluwande, as they attend a party with fake personas following Stede’s lead as he is posing as “Sir Godfrey Thornrose”. After Stede and Ed enter the party, Stede responds to Ed’s offer to tell the crowd about his story of when he was “gouging an eye out of this lad’s skull” with the brilliant line — “It’s not really the crowd for skull talk.” Immediately after this exchange, the party’s hosts appear and reveal that Sir Godfrey Thornrose is in fact a renowned phrenologist and the host requests that Sir Godfrey “palpitates” his wife’s head.
This crowd is, in fact, quite down for the skull talk.
While Stede is palming a snob’s cranium, Frenchie and Oluwande are having a conversation with one of the aristocrats, Siegfried, who makes some passive aggressive racist comments towards the two, with which Frenchie replies with the beginnings of his hilarious con which involves telling the story of his companion the Egyptian Prince Asi, actually Oluwande, whose fortune has recently been lost inside one of the great pyramids…but wait, Sigfried! If you invest in the prince’s plight, you can have a share of the fortune once it is recovered! The two go on throughout the episode to work in conjunction with Sigfried’s servant, Abshir, to con the majority of the party goers into giving our genius pirate pals all of their valuables in exchange for a share of the pyramid scheme’s lost treasure. In the end, they gather enough money and valuables that Abshir and the fellow servants are able to abandon their bosses and set off with their newfound wealth, perhaps to con other rich, white imbeciles. This episode does a masterful job at highlighting the hypocrisy and poisonous idiocy of colonial culture’s attitude towards race, and it is excellent satire on both the racism of that period, and the racism that is still prevalent today.
The fusion of both very historically accurate notes and some more ‘bent’ ones (that were made for the right reasons) contributes to the integrity of the representation of race in this phenomenal piece of television…a series that explores and satirizes the realities of past and present problems around race, class, gender and sexuality, while infusing plenty of humor into what could have been a much heavier end result.
Our Flag Means Death doesn’t focus on queerness. It focuses on queer characters…and there’s a difference. Many of the characters, and certainly all of the primary protagonists, are queer. And yet, the topic of LGBTQ+ identity isn’t direct–there isn’t much in the way of “coming out” in the show…things aren’t specifically discussed under this umbrella…the characters are just, well…they are what they are.
Sure, in a way this reflects the historical element of the story — more often than not, these things weren’t talked about during the time and in the place the story is set in. As is true in many times and places, just because queerness wasn’t talked about…doesn’t mean it didn’t exist. People were queer…people were gay…people were transgender…LGBTQ+ folk have always existed.
OFMD is a story that is centered around these characters, and in doing so makes a point against the erasure that has taken place through the waves of history time and time again. Within the satire and reimagined nuances of the real-life story it is loosely based on, there is a strong undercurrent of realism that is both respectful in approach and resonant in tone.
The correlation between “Golden Age” pirates and homosexuality goes all of the way back to, well, the Golden Age pirates themselves. The ‘homosocial environment’ of the pirate ship was a very real thing, and it didn’t even start on the boards of a ship itself. If we were to open the curtain at the beginning of the “Golden Age of Piracy”, we would see a stage set on the island of Tortuga, in the early 17th century. The Spanish colonies on the northern part of the island had recently been abandoned, and this is where the marginalized flocked- escaped slaves, outlaws, among others. Anyone who did not conform or comply with the law…mostly out of desperation, with no other option in sight, could find some semblance of safety from the power structures that loomed over their lives here on this abandoned colony. Over time, and as this culture of piracy took shape, the island became very male dominated…which makes sense- women and children would not have done well or lasted long in an already male majority society of the time such as this one…this sanctuary of seediness. Remember, this was no utopia.
Credited as perhaps the most successful pirate of the era, the “Dread Pirate Roberts” (sound familiar? From one of your favorite movies, perhaps?), Captain Bartholomew Roberts (psst, gay pirate!) wrote the famous “Pirate’s Code”. In the code, there was a clause that banned women and boys (meaning young, effeminate men) from sailing aboard the pirate ships, as it would create opportunities for distraction, rivalry and other complications.
Hmm…where does this sound familiar…oh! I sure do remember hearing Lucius being called “boy” and “the boy” quite often in the series. Not only this, but let’s not forget Izzy’s line while attempting to intimidate our favorite boy-
Izzy: “You’ve been a proper little seductress, haven’t you?…”
The character of Lucius serves as the “boy seducer” archetype of the Golden Age of Piracy…and this archetype, and stereotype, gets itself corrected by Lucius showing us just how valuable and lovable he really is in relation to his crew (though, I suppose he is dangerous and a distraction in a sense…but more on that later). He confirms that he’s gay as early as episode 2, and with his adorable kerchief bow and talented “scribey person” charm, goes on to not only seduce the hearts (and at least one body) of other characters, but also gain the love of the audience. Lucius’ role in the story is immensely significant, and it doesn’t take long to figure out that both Lucius and Oluwande are the wisest of the bunch, providing counsel to both of their oscillating captains…but especially Lucius in regards to Stede and Ed’s blossoming relationship…of which he gets a front row seat. Lucius gives Ed a nudge in episode 7 when he third wheels it on their treasure hunting excursion.
Lucius: “Look, you’re very cool, and you wear leather, okay, so maybe you won’t understand this…but everyone is worried ALL of the time whether they’re interesting or adventurous enough for you…and that bizarre little man over there likes you very much, and you like him…and if you can’t get over yourself long enough to realize that you’re going to end up another leather clad, middle aged sad sack dying alone in a puddle of his own piss. You can stab me in the face now.”
Way to go, boy! Give that leather daddy a good talking to!
Not only does his character support the two leads, but Lucius gets a romantic interest as well in Pete, which is introduced as the first (but thank Poseidon, not the last) blatantly gay scene, where the two of them are “checking the food rations”…as you do…and according to Pete, Lucius does a very good job with the task. Their relationship develops into a very sweet romance, and it serves as some very pure, heartwarming mlm (men loving men) representation.
Lucius continues to support both of his captains as things unfold and one apparent, short lived breakup ensues in episode 8. “Lucky for you…I’m fantastic at break ups”, he assures the insecure, anxiously pining Stede. Lucius takes Ed his things and once again lays down some truth on the usually menacing pirate.
In my opinion, among one the most moving scenes of the series takes place in episode 10, where although Lucius is clearly still wary of Ed (I did mention he was wise), he comforts the raw and broken hearted Edward in what ends up being a makeshift therapy session of sorts- just two gays in a blanket fort, some scribbled down song lyrics, a jar of marmalade and a precariously placed candle. All of Ed’s leather armor and spikiness has fallen away, and these two who before would have seemed the least likely duo, develop what could almost seem like an intimate friendship if it wasn’t for the dysfunctional power dynamic. This is where the danger and threat of the ‘boy’ comes into play. Growth is painful, and it can be seen as a threat by someone who isn’t ready, or is deeply afraid, of growing.
This moment of growth in Ed, and the development of friendship between him and Lucius, makes what happens later on in the episode hurt that much more. It is a painful, powerful turn in the story when Ed pushes Lucius off the edge of the ship, seemingly murdering our boy and thus returning to his Blackbeard persona; this brutal act reflecting the dark reality of violence towards queer people, specifically highlighting here the unfortunate reality of this violence and abuse so often being carried out by queer people themselves, who are poisoned by their own internalized homophobia, self loathing, trauma and that old flag of toxic masculinity.
In episode 3, when we think it may be possible that Lucius was murdered by Jim, Stede delivers this now haunting line of foreshadowing- “I hope he’s not dead. That could be bad…for the general vibe around here.” I hope he’s not dead, too. It’s definitely a vibe shift…but whether Lucius is confirmed dead or it’s discovered that he somehow survived the shove, it is heartbreaking what goes down between him and Blackbeard in the season 1 finale…and thematically it is deeply effective in establishing this sharp regression of the mental health and likability of Blackbeard’s character.
Episode 8 ends with probably my favorite scene of the entire series- a sequence that is brilliantly set to the Fleetwood Mac song, “The Chain”. In this pivotal scene, we watch as our beloved crew is seized by the British, and it hits a certain kind of way…it taps into a frequency that reaches a recognizable image, and feeling, of oppression. The majority of our lovable, misfit crew are black, brown and/or queer…and we are watching them being tackled and captured by the dominating colonial superpower. Another image of violence against marginalized people that reflects the realities that have existed all throughout history, and still today. It strikes a chord.
“Our Flag Means Death”…I’ve already touched on some of the symbolism the title of the series holds in Part 1…but it is a layered metaphor with multiple meanings. I posited that a flag is often something one waves to hide one’s true self…something to cover up, protect, deter. A flag can also display something true…say, for instance…a pride flag. The phrase, “our flag means death”, then, could also point to the reality that to be a queer person, or at least to be a visibly queer person, was often a death sentence. It was literally, legally considered a felony to engage in “homosexual behavior”…sometimes, a crime even punishable by death…either executed by forces of law, or acts of violence carried out by individuals. This isn’t just a thing of the past. It is still illegal in many places, and I would venture to say that nearly everywhere there are varying degrees of risk of hate crimes and other forms of violence taking place against queer people, some more subtle and some quite blatant.
Oof, that brought the mood down. How about we talk about gay pirate marriage, shall we? Matelotage was the commonplace, official and documented arrangement that would occur between two male pirates…and when looking closely at what it entailed…it was essentially a marriage agreement. Matelots were companions that sailed and shared their lives together, often having romantic and sexual connotations, and by entering into this agreement with each other, they laid claim to their matelot’s estate, and so for all extensive purposes this could (and often has been) construed as being listed as a spouse in his will. This is the underlying subtext to Ed and Stede’s “co-captains” idea…and this possibility is alluded to by Calico Jack in episode 8, when he remarks to Ed, “when I heard you shacked up with him…”.
This was a time when “buggery”, the offensive and outdated term that was used to describe anal sex, usually referring to sex between two men, was not only considered a felony but punishable by death…which isn’t that far from the reality of many places in our world still today, and it was only relatively recently in the grand scheme of humanity’s history that this has changed in the society of which I am a part.
And yet…matelotage existed…300 years ago. Queer people existed…300 years ago. Bartholomew Roberts…Mary Reed…Ann Bonny…John Rackhman…Edward Teach…Stede Bonnet…these people existed.
In Our Flag Means Death…there is no queerbaiting. There is only excellent storytelling and phenomenal representation, including three pictures of three very different and positive (albeit, messy), romantic queer relationships…one of which being between the two lead characters; a love story between two older, middle-aged men who have already lived over half of their lives as less true versions of themselves. Nothing in the story is sugar coated, though plenty is delivered through means of satire. The issue of a lifetime of repression wraps its tentacles around our two leads and is central to the cliffhanger we are left with at the end of season 1…with Stede having made strides in the healing and closure of his previous life, and Ed doubling down into the toxicity he tried to leave behind; his closure hasn’t stuck…at least not yet.
The theme of a “beard” in OFMD is first seen with Jim’s character at the end of the pilot episode. A shot of a fake beard sitting atop a trunk pans over to the figure of Jim, who pulls off a wax nose, takes off their hat, airing out their head and shaking off the pressure of the day’s disguise.
Lucius accidentally discovers Jim’s secret in Episode 2. When he pleads with Jim not to kill him, he tells them that he convinced his mom that he was straight for years and that “not all beards are actual beards if you get my drift.” Talk about some relatable comedy that rings true for the experiences of queer audiences.
The character of Jim is so important; an allusion to the historical pirates the likes of Mary Read and Anne Bonny (psst! More gay pirates!), we discover at the end of the pilot episode that this character appears to be female, disguising themself as a man. Mary Read and her counterpart Ann Bonny are among the ranks of the most famous historical pirates from the Golden Age of Piracy era. Mary, also known as Mark, and Anne, who was sometimes known as Andy, lived the majority of their lives disguised as men from a young age and throughout their piracy careers. Was it a disguise? No one but the person themself could truly tell us. I’m not going to guess or presume anything about historical, real life people’s identities. But I will talk about Jim’s…because Jim is a fictional character and is canonically nonbinary.
After Jim’s jig is up and it has been revealed to the crew that Jim is in fact, not a mute man with a thick beard and big, pockmarked nose…the 18th century pirate crew understandably has some questions for them.
When one of the baffled crew members, The Swede, asks Jim–
Swede: “So this whole time, you were a woman?”
Jim responds, unsure–
Jim: “Yeah, I guess…I don’t know…”
He also goes on to ask if “you’re not going to be Jim anymore, can I be Jim?” Oh, our poor, sweet “nordic angel”…he just wants a name that isn’t simply an abbreviation of his nationality. After fielding more questions, Jim sets the record straight.
Wee John: “We have a serious question to ask you– Are you a mermaid?”
Oluwande: “Told you…”, he says chuckling
Jim: “I’m not a mermaid.”
Wee John: “No, but…the way you said that was definitely kind of mermaidy…”
Jim: “I’M NOT A FUCKING MERMAID!”
“I’m only gonna say this once…so listen up. I’ve been on this ship for WEEKS NOW, and we haven’t crashed… Look everyone, I’m going to keep this very simple– You all know me as Jim, si?! So just keep calling me Jim…nothing’s changed…except I don’t have the beard…and my nose is different…and I can speak now…yes…Anyone got a problem with that?”
Swede: “It makes sense…I always liked Jim…”
Frenchie: “Yeah…good guy, Jim…”
Following this scene, Jim’s gender nonconformity and any confusion surrounding it isn’t really mentioned again. However, there is one vital detail not to be missed–from this point on in the series, everyone uses they/them pronouns for Jim. Here’s what’s so wonderful about this point…it isn’t even a topic in the series! We don’t even witness the moment when Jim states what their pronouns are…if they even do at all! Perhaps the crew just intuitively know to use they/them pronouns? I don’t think that’s the case, but as far as we know, it could be…because the story doesn’t spend time on this front. It just shows that all of the other characters…protagonists, antagonists, and guest characters alike…all use they/them pronouns in reference to Jim.
The reason this nuanced detail in the script is so significant is twofold–one being that having representation of a genderqueer character, especially one that takes place within a real historical context, is so rare and needed…and two is that this part of Jim’s identity is not the most interesting thing about them.
Let me tell you…as a transgender individual myself…this is like medicine. I know everyone’s experiences are different and perhaps not all trans people feel this way…but I for one am exhausted and sick of this part of my identity being such a topic in my personal life and the broader culture. Look, I’ve got things to do, and I’ve got a person to be! After the identity has been addressed (and also let me have rights, please) we can stop talking about it…debating its validity…trying to prove its existence. Let it BE…let us just BE. We are what we are. Jim is what they are. They are an intense, loyal, strong, brave, terrifying, motivated character who has a family to avenge, Oluwande to fall in love with, and some inner peace to pursue…who also happens to be nonbinary.
Jim is not the only character in OFMD to experience liberation at the dropping of their “beard”. Oh no, they most certainly are not the only one…for the “blackbeard” (or should I say more accurately, the “salt and pepper beard”) gets a clean shave.
Although it isn’t until episode 3 that we meet the character of Blackbeard, this infamous name is dropped from the very beginning of the series, mostly in the embellished tales Pete regales to the crew…trying to convince them that he used to sail aboard the dreaded Queen Anne’s Revenge and was in fact Blackbeard’s right hand man and the legendary captain himself gave him the title of “Black Pete”. Even after Blackbeard and his men join the fray, we never really get any confirmation on whether there was any truth to Pete’s stories…and I suspect that will remain a running gag and open thread to be sown up in season 2…Poseidon willing.
Blackbeard’s reputation is a character from the very beginning– insomuch proving the point that Ed makes later when confiding to Stede after he has nursed the ailing, “gut-stabbed” Captain Bonnet back to health. Ed tells Stede that he feels trapped and bored with what his life and reputation has become, and expresses that all it really is…is reputation anyways. This rings true for the audience, because we have already witnessed the way that his reputation has taken hold of the piracy and Caribbean seafaring culture of the time. It’s clear from the introduction of this character that he doesn’t want to be “Blackbeard” anymore.
By episode 9, Stede and Ed have already grown emotionally intimate from their month of sailing together, yet despite Stede knowing him as Ed, the grip of the “Blackbeard” reputation is still strong even with him. Stede gasps with shock when he sees that Ed’s beard has been fully shaved off, seeing his bare face for the first time.
Stede: “But…you’re Blackbeard! You’re not Blackbeard without your…black…beard.”
With this comment, Ed gives Stede a subtle but noticeable look…which I read as saying ‘but I’m not really Blackbeard, you should know that by now.’
Ed: “Come on mate, that’s all over. It was over years ago. My beard hasn’t been black since I was young. It’s grey beard if anything…salt and pepper beard. Now I’m just no beard.”
He goes on to surprise Stede with his attitude around their current predicament, expressing that he’s actually a bit relieved to “take a load off” and he’s “folding stuff now…and that’s okay.” This is definitely not how Ed imagined the death of “Blackbeard” to go…but this is how it unfolded…and perhaps now that he is beardless, he can be unencumbered from his image and past. Maybe he can just be “Edward”….he can have his go at embracing his gentle side…be soft, domestic, and kiss a man full on the mouth while sitting next to the sea that brought them together. It’s not until he has distance from his crew and his long curated Blackbeard image has been shaved away that he is able to really express his desire to do “what makes Ed happy”, and possibly be the most himself that he’s been in a very long time…or ever.
In OFMD, the “beard” is a silencer and repressor. When we first meet Jim at the beginning of the series, they are posing as mute. I’m sure part of the reason behind this is because they are hiding their identity and also need to limit any possibility of their voice being construed as having associated feminine tones…but another very possible reason is because…it is tricky moving the lower half of your face while wearing a fake beard.
For a behind-the-scenes, meta parallel to this point, Taika himself mentioned in an interview that wearing the prosthetic beard made it extremely difficult to talk, smile, or laugh…especially those last two facial movements he mentioned. Now, that’s very interesting. Wearing a fake beard makes it difficult to express your true feelings…especially those that convey joy.
Before this facial hair turning point in episode 9, the majority of the time Ed’s demeanor is sullen and guarded…except for some moments when he is able to relax around Stede. It’s not that we didn’t ever see him smile or laugh before the shave…we did…but based on the contrast of his disposition when he is with Stede versus when he isn’t…it wouldn’t be a stretch to gather the assumption that Stede helps him loosen his beard. As Ivan says and can attest to in Episode 6, “this is the most open and available I’ve ever seen him.” So, when Ed finds Stede sitting anxiously next to the sea after they have surrendered with an “Act of Grace” deal to the British, with a smooth chin and clear eyes, our supporting lead shares with Stede that all he wants is to be with his gentleman pirate, and after they share a sweet and moving kiss, proposes that they run off and lead renewed lives together. Ed wasn’t able to carry this out under Blackbeard’s shadow. The beard had to go…the leather had to go…he had to make that final cut with Blackbeard’s image.
Of course it only contributes to the significance of this very point that in Episode 10 after Ed decides to lean back into “I am the Kraken” version of Blackbeard…he covers his newly grown-in stubble with charcoal…literally coloring Blackbeard back into place.
Side note: I feel the need here to mention that Ed’s literal beard is GORGEOUS. Let me make my thirst clear. Listen, if he were to reclaim his physical beard and grow it out once again in the future…I would be more than happy. Please, give us all of those beautiful, salt and pepper curls, hon, and deck it out with little purple bows to your heart’s delight. Though if he decides he’d rather keep a beardless face, I am just as much here for that option.
From the very start of Stede and Ed’s adventure together…it is Ed who has the idea to fake his own death in order to escape the life he feels trapped in…and just one of the multiple shades of irony in this situation is that Stede ends up being the one who does just that, while also patching up some loose ends from his past. The truth of the matter is that both the “Stede Bonnet” and “Blackbeard” personas they’d both fronted throughout their lives thus far…need to die…for them to be truly freed from them and ready for the next phase of their lives. At the beginning, we see Stede turns away from his previous life…but is obviously still hanging on…not yet freed from it. Ed clearly wants his “Blackbeard” image, his false self, to die…and doesn’t seem to want to hang onto it at all, but feels pressured to with no other option…other than…death…by either the death of himself, or the death of another person…specifically, Stede Bonnet. Well…Stede Bonnet does die…Stede kills him. As Stede returns to the sea after faking his own death and unloading of some very heavy baggage that has weighed him down up until this point, he rows toward Ed…who unfortunately, has not been so successful in his own unloading.
We’ll see in the continuation of the story (once again, Poseidon willing) if the charcoal, Kraken Blackbeard sticks…or if Ed’s glimmer of liberation was powerful enough to shake off this toxic flag for good.
I think one of the reasons this show, and specifically the ending scene…which is so majestically accompanied by the Cat Stevens’ anthem “Miles from Nowhere”…resonates with me so very much is because I am at a turning point in my own life…where I’m grieving the past and time lost, while trying to remember to take deep breaths while setting off towards the future as my realized self.
I’m grieving these past 30 years of intrinsically feeling that I am somehow wrong, without being able to fully know or realize why. Now, in my 30th year of life, I have identified and accepted some buried truths about myself, and for so long I’ve been wrestling with denial vs. acceptance and self hate vs. self love. Now, I find myself in a rowboat on my way…miles from nowhere.
Stede and Ed are in their late 40s and are facing their own realizations and battles of denial vs. acceptance, fear vs. love, grief vs. hope.
I’ve been grieving and have been experiencing anger that I’m 30 and still have so far to go. Well, it sure is cathartic to watch these men who are nearly 20 years older than I am to be in their own version of a similar place.
As Mary Bonnet would tell us in Episode 4, “we have this one life…we have to try, don’t we?”…whether we’re 30, 48, or 88…we can try to shake off old flags and make some new ones that represent our true selves.
We say goodbye, for now, to our pirates at the end of season 1 with quite the cliffhanger. What flags will our sweet, menacing, mentally devastated misfits wave as this story unfolds in future installments? Poseidon willing, we will find out in season 2…and I for one will be over here swabbing the deck and patching the sails eagerly awaiting its return.
Sources & References:
Our Flag Means Death. Created by David Jenkins, HBO, 2022-.
“Pilot”. Our Flag Means Death. Created by David Jenkins, Season 1, Episode 1, HBO, 2022-.
“A Damned Man”. Our Flag Means Death. Created by David Jenkins, Season 1, Episode 2, HBO, 2022-.
“A Gentleman Pirate”. Our Flag Means Death. Created by David Jenkins, Season 1, Episode 3, HBO, 2022-.
“Discomfort in a Married State”. Our Flag Means Death. Created by David Jenkins, Season 1, Episode 4, HBO, 2022-.
“The Best Revenge is Dressing Well”. Our Flag Means Death. Created by David Jenkins, Season 1, Episode 5, HBO, 2022-.
“The Art of F**ckery”. Our Flag Means Death. Created by David Jenkins, Season 1, Episode 6, HBO, 2022-.
“This Is Happening”. Our Flag Means Death. Created by David Jenkins, Season 1, Episode 7, HBO, 2022-.
“We Gull Way Back”. Our Flag Means Death. Created by David Jenkins, Season 1, Episode 8, HBO, 2022-.
“Act of Grace”. Our Flag Means Death. Created by David Jenkins, Season 1, Episode 9, HBO, 2022-.
“Wherever You Go, There You Are”. Our Flag Means Death. Created by David Jenkins, Season 1, Episode 10, HBO, 2022-.
Photographs By Aaron Epstein from HBO Max and Warner Media https://pressroom.warnermedia.com/us/property/our-flag-means-death/images
Keling, Brooke. Pirates and Plantations: Exploring the Relationship between Caribbean Piracy and the Plantation Economy During the Early Modern Period. West Carolina University. https://affiliate.wcu.edu/tuckasegeevalleyhistoricalreview/spring-2020/pirates-and-plantations-exploring-the-relationship-between-caribbean-piracy-and-the-plantation-economy-during-the-early-modern-period/
Lawler, Andrew. Three Centuries After His Beheading, a Kinder, Gentler Blackbeard Emerges. 2018. Smithsonian Magazine. https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/three-centuries-after-his-beheading-kinder-gentler-blackbeard-emerges-180970782/
Keegan, Nicole. Men and Matelotage: Sexuality and Same-Sex Relationships within Homosocial Structures in the Golden Age of Piracy, 1640–1720. Loyola Marymount University. https://digitalcommons.lmu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1174&context=ulra
https://www.rmg.co.uk/stories/topics/blackbeard-edward-teach-pirate
