This is a slightly edited version of a post I made over on Tumblr, and I have a feeling this might become a series of musings, so I wanted to post it here as well. I had a wonderful conversation with @jackabelle73 over on Tumblr about Rumbelle, just out of true curiosity. She also asked me whether I would be able to say why I ship Klaine (we’ll see! I might have a go at that, too). And then there were two posts that came across my dash about Jack and Sarah, and said some very articulate things about them as a couple, and how they differed from the Jack/Kath relationship in the stage musical. I'm not going to try and do the post links here; my html skills are rudimentary at best! But I enjoy thinking about this kind of thing, about why a particular ship sticks with you and appeals to you.
Finally, I’ve been thinking about these particular two a whole bunch anyway, because of writing “We’ll Be There to Defend One Another,” and all of the dynamics that I’ve poured into that particular story (and it’s my love letter to 92sies, absolutely). So let’s see if I can be even semi-articulate about why I ship Jack/Sarah.
First of all, I should say, this might be one of the earliest ships I ever shipped, before I knew what shipping was, before I knew there was a word for it, before I was on the internet in any appreciable way. (Yes, I’m a Fandom Old. If you didn’t know it before, you know it now.) The only other ship that comes to mind that would have been even earlier than this is Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe.
And I will be the first person to admit that 92sies is problematic as a film. It’s got huge narrative gaps. It’s a structural mess. And Sarah has maybe ten minutes of screen time? We aren’t given a lot of on-screen dynamics to work with, but what is there is pretty extraordinary, in one particular way.
Jack and Sarah are gentle with each other. They’re vulnerable. And not because they have to be, but because they choose to be.
That doesn’t sound like a big deal. However, consider: most of the other times we see vulnerability in Jack are in situations where he has little to no control over it. When he’s in the courtroom with Snyder, and trying desperately to keep up a facade of cold indifference and hatred, but you can see plain as day that he’s terrified. When he’s surrounded at the end of the rally, and trying desperately to escape, and there’s nothing but desperation on his face. When he’s meeting with Pulitzer, and he has that same facade of cold indifference up, and then Pulitzer threatens Davey. Jack doesn’t choose to be vulnerable in those situations; in fact he’s doing everything he can not to be, and he’s vulnerable in spite of himself because he’s so afraid.
With Sarah, he chooses that vulnerability. He lets her in, because he can and because he wants to - and that’s an enormous thing for someone who has spent most of his life being wary of trusting others. And he doesn’t press her. He talks to her, is honest with her - blunt, even, and I could also talk about why, maybe, Sarah likes that about him - but he’s never in her personal space without her permission, never crossing any lines she doesn’t want crossed. The gif up above is a perfect example in terms of body language - he’s below her, looking up at her, and you can see in his expression that he thinks she’s beautiful (and seriously, don’t we all think Ele Keats is beautiful?). And he lets her see that, but he doesn’t go any further than that. She tells him, “Go up on the roof.” She’s telling him that it’s okay, that she feels it, too. She gives permission, which is such a rare thing even in current media.
And Sarah, in their interaction on the roof, never presses him about anything, just lets him talk. I think that’s the other reason that Jack feels like he can be vulnerable around her: she doesn’t ask for him to be one specific part of Jack Kelly. She’s not asking him to be Jack Kelly, the strike leader, or Jack Kelly, caretaker of the newsies, or Jack Kelly, cowboy - she accepts whatever part of himself he offers. And I’ve always thought that she appreciates his honesty - he’s too straightforward a person to be what he’s not, to give her false flattery, and she likes that he’s blunt enough to just ask if it matters to her whether he stays or goes. He doesn’t play games with her; he wants to know, so he asks. And again, honesty is a pretty rare commodity even in current depictions of relationships.
During their entire interaction on the roof, also, they’re fairly close together, particularly toward the end of their conversation, but again, there’s no physical boundary crossing, nothing that feels even remotely off when it comes to two people who are attracted to each other, but still getting to know one another as well. That’s also appropriate to the time period, but the point stands. They’re learning about each other, but respecting each other’s boundaries.
I will also say, Sarah is the first person in the film to suggest to Jack that Santa Fe isn’t all it’s cracked up to be (”it’s the same sun as here”). In other words, home is where you choose for home to be, and he could have a home in New York, if he chose to. Davey implicitly makes the point by bringing Jack home to dinner, and he verbally reiterates the point, later (”you had the newsies”), but Sarah says it first. Jack can have a home - with her, with David, in New York - but he has to choose it. Which is what makes his return at the end have such impact - he says, “Besides, I’ve got family here.” He’s figured it out, chosen New York and Sarah and the Jacobs and the newsies, in one monumental choice.
Last but not least, when Jack and Sarah kiss at the end, it’s another case of Sarah giving permission. She works her way through the crowd to him, not the other way around. She didn’t have to find him, but she does, and it’s her way of making clear that she’s his, if he wants her. And of course, then he reaches for her, pulls her close, and that’s a hell of a mutual kiss at the end. There’s something really profound about that for me - the fact that the two of them respect each other’s space, physically and emotionally, let each other choose, don’t push or press or ask for more than the other one wants to give. That still feels rare and precious, even in our current media landscape.