I recall seeing The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert when it came out over 30 years ago, and how I fantasized, and desperately suspected, that the hunky Guy Pearce, playing a queer part, was in real life gay.
That’s what you did in those days, and I’ve said it a million times, because there weren’t any gay men starring in films, so you just hoped and hoped that when a straight man took a queer part, well, that must mean he’s gay.
Now, Terence Stamp, who also starred in the film, was a bit old for me at the time; nevertheless, I assumed, because he played his part so spot-on, that he too had to be LGBTQ+.
Yesterday, the world lost an immensely talented performer in Stamp. Though many recall his turn as General Zod in Superman or perhaps in the queer film Teorama, for most of the LGBTQ+ community, his role as Bernadette in Priscilla, a transgender woman, remains his most consequential and enduring legacy.
It still matters so much that there have been talks to make a sequel, and if that is so, there must be some homage paid to the late Stamp’s Bernadette since that role was so iconic.
Of course, the present moment demands more than representation of trans characters by cisgender actors. Today, we rightly champion casting trans actors for trans roles, performers like Laverne Cox, Murray Hill, Michaela Jaé Rodriguez, and many others, who bring lived experience and authenticity.
But to step into a queer role 30 years ago, even as a cisgender straight man, was a real career risk, particularly playing a transgender woman. Serious LGBTQ+ roles were seldom offered, and when they were, they often played for cheap laughs or caricature. Yet Stamp brought Bernadette to life with raw emotion, empathy, and integrity.
For those who don’t know or remember, Priscilla follows two cis drag queens, Felicia and Mitzi, played by Hugo Weaving and Pearce, and trans drag queen Bernadette, portrayed by Stamp, as they travel in a beat-up bus named Priscilla across the Australian Outback for a drag show tour.
The plot balanced humor, of course camp, but also a quiet poignancy while never reducing its characters to victims. Bernadette, in particular, embodied resilience. When she is confronted with slurs, she meets them with biting wit and, when needed, physical defiance, never allowing insults to go unanswered.
It was an international box office success, and Stamp’s performance earned rave reviews. He was nominated for a BAFTA and Golden Globe for Best Actor in a motion picture.
In stepping into the role of Bernadette, Stamp showed deep empathy for queer storytelling and at the time, remarkable personal courage. He delivered a performance that still inspires in 2025. As Priscilla director Stephan Elliott recalled, Stamp was initially terrified of the exposure but channeled that fear into something magnetic and unforgettable, the kind of performance that turned “everybody to jelly,” according to Elliott.
Today, as we witness a resurgence of transgender erasure and attacks on gender-diverse people, especially under Donald Trump’s second administration, Bernadette’s enduring power feels urgently relevant. Trans rights are being rolled back through the banning of gender-affirming care for minors, excluding trans people from military service, and prohibiting transgender athletes from participating in sports.
Even symbolic erasures matter. The U.S. National Park Service recently removed references to transgender people from the Stonewall National Monument’s website, changing “LGBTQ” to “LGB” and stripping out the word “queer,” erasing Bernadette and stories like hers.
Federal workers report renewed fears reminiscent of the Lavender Scare; anti-DEI policies and the dismantling of LGBTQ+ support within agencies have further intensified a climate of vulnerability.
That such a vibrant, empathetic portrayal of a trans character could flourish in 1994, and still speak so deeply amidst attempts to reverse such visibility, underlines how significant Priscilla and Stamp’s Bernadette truly were, and remain.
The film helped pave the way for future works, like To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar, released the following year in 1995, in which straight cis actors like Patrick Swayze and Wesley Snipes, and John Leguizamo inhabited queer roles with warmth and respect. For people who weren’t around at that time, it’s probably a bit hard to believe that this type of thinking existed. Stamp’s example arguably carved a path for the characters in Too Wong Foo.
In an age when trans people are under attack, remembering Bernadette reminds us of the power of visibility, empathy, and storytelling, and of how one bold performance can echo across generations and still matter as much today as it did 30 years ago.
Voices is dedicated to featuring a wide range of inspiring personal stories and impactful opinions from the LGBTQ+ community and its allies. Visit Advocate.com/submit to learn more about submission guidelines. Views expressed in Voices stories are those of the guest writers, columnists, and editors, and do not directly represent the views of The Advocate or our parent company, equalpride.
Charlie Kirk DID say stoning gay people was the 'perfect law' — and these other heinous quotes