Netflix’s “Deadly Illusions” is the worst best most bananas homoerotic thriller currently begging for your attention and if you are gay and hate yourself, you should answer its siren song.
Age gap relationships have always been and will likely always be a part of queer culture.
Moxie aims for riot grrrl rage and zine-ready radical politics but falls short, coming off more like a glossy mag for girl power that’s only loosely intersectional.
It’s like spending 90 minutes inside a fever dream a Kristin Wiig ’80s sketch character might have if she got high inside some kind of Mars Cheese Castle/Dylan’s Candy Bar co-op. And I loved it.
“I fully understand they have to paint a picture of the times, and deep racial trauma and pain were a part of those times, but I found myself wondering why we need another gut-wrenching Black story on film.”
If you don’t like to watch movies about horrible people doing horrible things, you’ll probably want to skip J Blakeson’s I Care A Lot. If you, like me, are a zealous fan of the small but growing canon of lesbian heist movies, you might have fun with this cynical, clinical movie steeped in the horrors of capitalism and greed.
Four trans individuals are featured in the new docu-series exploring the impact of Trump’s ideologies.
It’s impossible to forget a feeling like sitting on the bleachers watching Floriane swim. It’s impossible to forget the drowning.
The visual and narrative tension, of course, ramps up the eroticism, but so does Madeline and Nina’s actual relationship, which hasn’t aged in that calm, quiet, mature way we usually think of lesbian grandmas.
The cinematography, the sound design, the direction of the actors — it all culminates in a remarkable cinematic experience. And yet every time Affleck was on-screen, I felt chilled.
Pauli Murray was unspeakably brilliant, and their warmth is best captured on their own terms. With over 141 boxes of writings, 800 photographs, and dozens of tapes — the documentary “My Name Is Pauli Murray” shines brightest when it lets Murray take the reigns.
The dialogue isn’t exactly elegant — though there is one deeply quotable moment when Jane’s lesbian teacher asks her what’s wrong and Jane says, “I’m gay and everyone hates me!!!!!!”
That’s what’s so special about watching a film from a trans filmmaker this audacious and experimental. It doesn’t have to engage with transness in the expected ways to resonate with a trans audience.
Ultimately, the film shows that the differences between cis people and trans people aren’t as vast as we usually think. There are many ways to make a family and the more expansive our imaginations the more everyone will benefit.
Look, when a character takes a strap-on out of her backpack in the middle of a sex scene you know you’re in good hands.
One of the pleasures — pains? — of consuming art right now is that everything seems to be filtered through our current lens. And it makes this thriller all the more effective and difficult.
How can you watch this series and not feel angry with how deprived we are of stories about queer people with disabilities? How can you watch this series and not be delighted with what’s finally on-screen? How can you watch this series and not be excited about all of the possibilities fulfilled and all the possibilities still to come?
Alike is a chameleon, disappearing in the light of her surroundings — purple in the club, green on the bus, pink at home — only ever showing you her profile when she’s forced to be less than her authentic self.
It’s a piercing portrayal of abuse. It’s a monster movie, only instead of a creature in the night, its monster is a human woman.
Steve Trevor is the main and unconquerable problem with Patty Jenkins’ follow-up to 2017’s nearly perfect Wonder Woman origin story, but it’s not the film’s only issue. Wonder Woman 1984 is a complete mess.
In Viola Davis’ hands, “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” becomes a complex portrait of a queer Black woman hurricane whose footprints loom large over the last 100 years.
