Marvel’s ‘Ironheart’ Showcases the Beauty, Depth, and Breadth of the Black Experience — Including Queerness
So far, Ironheart is everything I love about the MCU when they let themselves have fun. And it’s not NOT gay.
So far, Ironheart is everything I love about the MCU when they let themselves have fun. And it’s not NOT gay.
A queer critic who loves Bravo and a queer critic who went to NYU are truly the perfect duo to review this television program.
It made me laugh, it made me cry, and it made me giggle and kick my feet at all the extra queer content.
Underneath the raunchiness and gross-out jokes, the series has been a trailblazer in its efforts to challenge societal norms and welcome LGBTQ representation.
Keke Palmer and Stephanie Hsu are back to voice Klak and Sleech as they navigate gay dates, deep secrets, and the wild and wacky world of The Second Best Hospital in the Galaxy.
It feels like a small miracle that a show like Andor got to exist. An expensive as hell, explicitly anti-fascist, openly queer, and intelligently plotted spy thriller set in one of the biggest media franchises in history feels like it shouldn’t exist, but it did, and it was wonderful.
Maybe I’m being too harsh. Maybe there’s a place for bad TV that hates itself and hates its audience.
Two lesbian “scholars” of reality television weigh in on season two of The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives. Who’s the best villain? Who seems GAY? Let’s discuss.
There is no perfect path to queerness. Oftentimes, it is shitty and gross.
There isn’t a more pressing and thought-provoking series airing right now.
Cynthia Erivo goes full Orphan Black mode for Poker Face season two’s premiere. Plus, other small details including a performance by Sherry Cola continue to make the show’s wacky world casually queer.
Get Hooked, on its face, is a six-part documentary series about, well, fishing. I can hear the non-nature inclined among you sigh, but, if you will, come along on this journey with me, because maybe I (and the delightful cast) can change your mind.
Yes, there was heavily implied lesbian sex in Star Wars. I never thought we’d see the day, but it’s here. The gays have finally taken the Galaxy Far, Far Away.
The show follows Molly (Michelle Williams), who sets out to have the horniest last five years of her life after she is diagnosed with terminal cancer, supported by a group of lesbians and Jenny Slate.
If this first three-episode arc is anything to go by, Andor’s second (and final) season is not only set up to be thrilling, disturbingly relevant, gorgeously realized, and emotionally stirring television, but it also may end up being the single best story ever told in the Galaxy Far, Far Away.
The Wheel of Time giveth queer characters, and The Wheel of Time taketh away.
The girls are fighting, and it’s more intense than ever.
It’s fun to see Issa Rae in a suit. It’s fun to see Emma Corrin put on the cadence of classic cinema. It’s fun to watch them kiss. But are lesbian audiences really that easy? Are we so vapid to celebrate these aesthetic pleasures without asking for more?
The conversations Pari and Tina have about autism, masking, queerness, and their choices to be themselves in spite of pushback are some of the most poignant in the show.
With a rushed marriage proposal and the return of a favorite character, Harlem comes to its premature end.