The new HBO Max series Our Flag Means Death is a fantastic addition to the streaming platform’s lineup of smash-hit comedies like Curb Your Enthusiasm and The Righteous Gemstones. Created by David Jenkins (People of Earth) and produced by New Zealand comedic actor and director Taika Waititi (What We Do In The Shadows, JoJo Rabbit, Reservation Dogs), the 18th-century pirate series is a love letter to minorities that have been excluded from and often abused in historical narratives.
Our Flag Means Death re-imagines the life of ‘Gentlemen Pirate’ Stede Bonnet, the wealthy owner of a sugarcane plantation in Barbados who left his family and cushy life for the open seas. Bonnet is played by New Zealand actor and longtime friend of Waititi, Rhys Darby. Darby’s Bonnet is a much more forgiving depiction of the 18th-century pirate. He is a foppish, well-read dandy who parades around his ship, The Revenge, in silken robes and recites Shakespeare. He commands a motley crew of colorful characters that often question his leadership but eventually, come to appreciate their captain’s genteel idiosyncrasies and talk therapy skills: “What do we say, gents? Talk it through with the crew!”
After nearly surviving a fatal altercation with the British Navy, Bonnet and his crew find themselves on the run from the Crown. This lands them in the path of a polyamorous pirate queen and crime boss named Spanish Jackie (SNL’s Leslie Jones), who harbors a personal vendetta against one of Bonnet’s crew members, Jim: a nonbinary pirate/assassin with some serious knife-throwing skills. Jim is played by non-binary actor and activist Vico Ortez.
Jim’s character, who is also Latine, is refreshingly different from most lackluster nonbinary representations on television. In fact, the show’s B storyline is all about Jim and their quest to avenge their family’s death. Jim is assisted by their best friend on the ship, Olu (played by a charmingly sincere Samson Kayo). Olu, the Mr. Congeniality of The Revenge, will do anything to protect his best friend Jim (who he’s secretly-very-obviously in love with).
In an interview with Gizmodo, Jenkins shared that he wanted his audience to become more acquainted with Bonnet’s incompetence and his moon bathing, cat fearing, penis-drawing crew before introducing the most exciting plot of the series: the meeting of Stede Bonnet and the infamous Blackbeard, played by Taika Waititi. When Jenkins first started conducting research for the show, he learned that Stede Bonnet was a friend of Blackbeard’s, which prompted the idea that they were lovers. This is why I love the historical depictions in Our Flag Means Death. The subtext in recorded pirate history that is queer, multiracial, and polyamorous is the textual backbone of the show. We’re not being baited. The “opposites attract” energy between Stede and Blackbeard (who is “Edward” to Stede) is funny, brave, and full of feeling.
Waititi’s Blackbeard is also deeply nuanced. Sure, he rocks a dirty beard and black leather outfits (and may have tortured and killed dozens of people), but he’s also a middle-aged man yearning to retire and enjoy the gentler, finer things of life. He is drawn to Stede because he also wishes to abandon his former life and forge a new identity. Figuring out one’s identity is a prevailing theme in Our Flag Means Death.
In the fourth episode, Stede shows Blackbeard his secret walk-in closet that would make any dandy faint from ecstasy. The secret closet is a clever metaphor, too, like when Stede gives Blackbeard his favorite red handkerchief under a yellow full moon: “You wear fine things well,” Stede whispers, folding his handkerchief into the other man’s breast pocket. The two pirates also cosplay as each other for fun, which confuses the crew, but, most of all, infuriates Blackbeard’s right-hand man, Izzy Hands (played by a roguish and sexy Con O’Neil). As Stede and Blackbeard’s chemistry bubbles to the surface, Izzy starts to loathe his boss for no longer being the fearsome killer of legend and plots to murder Stede. One can’t help but wonder if Izzy and Blackbeard had a thing in the past—like Blackbeard’s old flame Calico Jack (played by a hilarious Will Arnett)—which might explain his possessive behavior and sexually curious homophobia.
While Stede yearns to be a swashbuckling pirate, Blackbeard yearns for a life of comfort. This is where the show employs some of the best romance tropes: Stede teaches Blackbeard how to dress and dine like an aristocrat, and Blackbeard teaches Stede how to wield a sword. One of my favorite episodes in Season One is “The Best Revenge Is Dressing Well,” where Stede takes Blackbeard to a dinner party full of chatty ghoulish aristocrats. Among them are characters played by A-list comedic actors such as Kristen Schall (Bob’s Burgers) and Nick Kroll (Big Mouth). Blackbeard charms the crowd with his ridiculous alias as “Jeff the Accountant” and crazy pirating anecdotes but is later humiliated by a melon fork—much to the aristocrats’ delight. Fortunately, Stede saves his friend’s pride by doing what aristocrats do best—wounding others with passive aggression. As he put it in a previous episode: “Polite menace. That will be my brand.”
Stede and Blackbeard’s diametrically opposed strengths are the “sun and moon” gravitational pull that makes their blooming romance the stuff of fandom heaven. And there is something remarkably refreshing about watching two middle-aged men in mid-life crises supporting each other and falling madly in love.
However, #StedeBeard isn’t the only romantic ship worth fanning over. Jim and Olu’s “will they or won’t they” dynamic gives their storylines rich emotional texture, and seeing a nonbinary character be accepted and desired for who they are is also a rare treat. Our Flag Means Death had three nonbinary writers in the writers’ room, thanks to Jenkins and Waititi’s commitment toward genuine representation both on and off the screen.
Additionally, there is Stede’s openly gay first mate Lucius (Nathan Foad) and his neurodivergent boyfriend, Black Pete (Matthew Maher). In my opinion, Foad, who is a British comedian, is the show’s secret weapon with his sassy loquacious one-liners and gooped-and-gagged expressions. Lucius also functions as a mouthpiece for the audience as we see him witness the romantic tension brewing between Stede and Blackbeard: “Oh my god… this is happening.” Lucius and Black Pete have an open relationship, too—another proverbial toast to the polyamorous history of pirates.
Our Flag Means Death thrives on timeless tropes: best friends-to-lovers, dramatic breakups, trickster pirates, bougie Brits. But what makes it truly special is that queer, POC, and nonbinary characters get to live out these tropes, which they’ve typically been excluded from. Although the show doesn’t cut out micro-aggressions or the existence of slavery in the 18th-century, Black and Brown characters come out winning at the colonizers’ expense. Instead of battling societal trauma, they battle their own personal traumas, supporting one another along the way.
Putting aside the scurvy, wooden fingers, and telepathic seagulls, Our Flag Means Death is a show about outcasts for outcasts. It’s silly, sometimes irreverent, but brilliantly tender. It’s not just a rom-com or situational comedy; it’s a queer elegy—honoring those outcasts in history who chose to risk their lives for freedom and perhaps even love. While the plot is certainly imaginable and at times illogical—for instance, many characters seem to have an internal navigation system that helps them find exactly who and what they’re looking for on the open sea—the characters are familiar and believable.
I wish to write a love letter of my own to Jenkins and Waititi for making a show about queer nonbinary pirates during a time when anti-LGBTQ state bills are on the rise, most of them attacking minors. For years, TV shows that target younger demographics have used a marketing technique called queerbaiting, in which creatives hint at queer romances but won’t allow them to bloom before our eyes. The baiting tactic is the reason why fanfiction has become a phenomena in the last 20 years. It’s a slow-burn song and dance that often leaves the bitter taste of ash in your mouth. Having been immersed in fandom culture for many years, I can attest to how frustrating and painful it feels to have your hopes for a same-sex romance dashed over and over again.
Seeing how LGBTQ+ youth are responding to the show online proves how important television is as a social and cultural medium that not only entertains but also heals. I have seen hundreds of posts from fans who can’t believe there is a show that depicts homosexuality in the 18th-century with respect and dignity; reclaiming romantic symbolism that historically has been afforded to heterosexuality without restraint. I have seen numerous interviews with Vico Ortez, who plays Jim, teary-eyed as they talk about their experience playing a nonbinary character who is accepted, not as a man or a woman, but for exactly who they are by a crew of pirates that basically say, “Okay, we see you Jim.” Our Flag Means Death is a show about chosen families that see each other without projections or prejudice. It’s no surprise, then, that it would appeal strongly to those, like myself, who often feel misunderstood and boxed in by a world bent on rules and binaries. This is the power and transformative magic of television.
HBO’s Our Flag Means Death exploded on the internet when it first premiered in March 2022, resulting in over a thousand published fanfictions in less than a month. Not to mention the stunning plethora of fan art.
The hearty pirate series is both a dramedy and a work of theater, or as Blackbeard likes to call it: “The Art of Fuckery.” Our Flag Means Death is a show that says loud and clear: we are queer, and we’ve always been here. GET USED TO IT.
Our Flag Means Death’s entire first season is available to stream on HBO Max.