Norman Lear’s last credit before his death in 2023 was executive producer of “Boots,” an eight-part adaptation of Greg Cope’s memoir “The Pink Marine.” Based on the latter’s experiences as a closeted U.S. Marine Corp in an era when it was illegal for homosexuals to serve in the military, the Netflix original may be set in 1990, but in the wake of Donald Trump’s transgender ban and Pete Hegseth’s claims that gay recruits are part of a Marxist agenda, it proves that even as a 101-year-old, the sitcom pioneer possessed the uncanny ability to stay ahead of the societal curve.
Unlike Amazon’s underrated “Clean Slate” (the last Lear project to be completed in his lifetime), in which Laverne Cox’s trans woman is largely welcomed home with open arms, “Boots” is less warm-fuzzies and more cold-blooded aggression. The cast must have required a boxful of Chloraseptic by the shoot’s end, considering how a good third of the dialogue is shouted at intense decibel-shattering levels.
Created by Andy Parker (“Tales of the City”), “Boots” centers on Cameron Cope (Miles Heizer), a sensitive gay teen cajoled into joining Marine boot camp by his supportive straight best friend Ray McAffey (Liam Oh) during a summer in which possibilities can seem both excitingly infinite and depressingly limiting. While the latter quickly takes to military life, motivated by the desire to please his overwhelmingly stern war veteran dad (the father figures here are uniformly awful), the former immediately starts ruing the day he signed up.
“Boots” gets plenty of comic mileage from this fish-out-of-water scenario. “We’ve only been here one day?,” a crestfallen Cameron queries following a baptism of fire in which he’s forced to shave his head, scavenge leftovers from the trash, and contend with superiors gleefully proclaiming they’ll “snap your head off and s**t down your neck.” In a narrative device which, while gimmicky, helps to signal his shift in personality, he also regularly converses with the slightly more effeminate, ever-disapproving alter-ego he spends 13 weeks desperately trying to mask.
It’s a shame this side doesn’t appear more often.
While it’s impressive that Heizer can still convincingly pass as an 18-year-old at age 31 — this isn’t a Ben Platt in “Dear Evan Hansen”-style embarrassment — his performance feels a little too muted to connect. Sure, we get why Cameron would repeatedly stifle his true self in front of the drill sergeants who bark the “other” F-word like it’s going out of fashion. Likewise with the emotionally stunted bros whose idea of entertainment is a toilet-based challenge dubbed the Brown Bomber (don’t ask). But even in the scenes with Ray, the only person he’s outed himself to, he’s something of a blank canvas. And when he does assume a little more agency later on, his actions — particularly his willingness to drink the Kool-Aid — make him difficult to root for.
Luckily, his fellow tryouts are a little more charismatic. Having spent his entire life in the shadow of Cody (Brandon Tyler Moore), the far more athletic twin brother primed for combat by their sadistic dad, John (Blake Burt) cuts a far more sympathetic figure. Late transfer Jones (Jack Cameron Kay) serves as the anti-Cameron, a confident almost-openly gay man who treats all the ultra-macho machinations with the contempt they deserve. Kieron Moore provides the necessary boo-hiss factor as Slovacek, a Czech-American meathead who accepts the comparisons to Ivan Drago as a badge of honor.
“Boots” also fails to convey exactly why Cameron would subject himself to the whims of such a toxic environment. Unlike his comrades, his family life is more dysfunctional than deeply troubled. Although mom Barbara (a sadly under-utilized Vera Farmiga) takes several days to realize her son hasn’t just popped out for some milk, she’s no Norma Bates-esque monster. She undoubtedly cares — see how she castigates the world’s most brightly-colored recruitment office for signing up someone so transparently ill-equipped (“These aren’t boys to you… they’re cannon fodder for when the country needs a good distraction”). While a heartfelt late-in-the-day monologue, the kind which may have graced an Emmy clip had her character been more fleshed out, expresses regret at how she’s handled raising such a sensitive soul.
In fact, the show’s messaging is muddled throughout, as if it’s never quite sure whether it’s serving as a Marines recruitment ad or an active deterrent. The sergeants act so relentlessly inhumane they make the “Full Metal Jacket” lot look as menacing as Pee-wee Herman. Yet there are occasions when the show appears to justify their extreme “man up” approach as a means to an end, as if all the wayward recruits needed was some racial and homophobic epithets to whip them into shape.
Furthermore, the one issue you’d expect to take front and center is often relegated to the background. Indeed, Cameron’s desires are barely addressed beyond a few furtive glances in the shower (anyone looking for a clandestine romance to ship should stick to “Heartstopper”). And other than ignoramus Slovacek, the recruits seem an unusually tolerant bunch with no qualms about leaning into the naturally homoerotic.
Instead of sticking the boot into military homophobia, the show initially seems determined to tiptoe around it. It’s only when delving deeper into the backstory of Sgt. Sullivan (Max Parker), a cartoonishly humorless ex-Recon who takes Cameron under his incredibly warped wing, that it starts exploring the hardships of an era when even the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy seemed enlightened.
It’s also here where “Boots” finally appears to find its stride, hitting just the right balance of sitcom-esque quips and emotional beats while also posing an arsenal of tough questions. Let’s hope that Netflix gives the show a chance to reveal the answers. The closing scene’s breaking news of the Iraq War certainly gives plenty of scope for a second season. And with a bit more spit and a bit less polish, it might even be fit enough to tie the laces of Lear’s finest.
All eight episodes of”Boots” Season 1 are now streaming on Netflix.
