She inspired a Nina Simone song. She was clocked by the Feds. She wore pearl earrings. She gave a generation of Black actors the roles that would define their careers.
“Princess Cyd isn’t interested in the well-worn plot of queer sexual awakening, the torture of figuring out who you are and the fraught path you have to follow to let other people in on your secret. In fact, Princess Cyd isn’t really interested in plot (or secrets) at all. It’s a character study of two women who clumsily and gently brush up against each other and find new happiness because of it.”
Everyone in the film is Mexican. Everything in the film is Mexican. Everyone and everything is me.
Writer/director/longtime lesbian favorite Angela Robinson has done a really subversive thing with the most talked-about period film of the fall: She’s brought an ardent screenplay, a soaring score, and unapologetically gauzy sunlight to bear on the story of the man, his wife, and their lover who created the most iconic female superhero of all time in the hopes that she would prepare the world for matriarchal rule — and a healthy side of bondage.
“Billie Jean King — a gay icon, a feminist idol, one of the greatest athletes in history, an unshakable pillar of indomitable humanity here in 2017 — becomes even more powerful in Battle of the Sexes, but the film also offers audiences the gift of undoing her invincibility in our imaginations by allowing her to fall in love.”
Just a neutral question.
Sword of Athena. Lasso of Truth. Bracelets of Submission. Wonder Woman, at last, on the silver screen.
How far is heaven?
Trini, the Mexican-American Yellow Ranger, tells her friends that she’s figuring out her sexuality and that she likes girls, and in the process she finds a family.
One of my favorite parts of the movie is the reverence that Moana has for her ancestors and her culture, even while she pushes it and challenges it to embrace the future. This is a reality that many POC, especially queer ones have to deal with.
The new documentary Growing Up Coy examines what it’s like to grow up as a young trans girl in a country that is constantly creating laws that target you.
When you’re stargazing, remember Katherine Johnson, Dorothy Vaughan, and Mary Jackson’s work. Tell their stories over and over. They’ve been silenced for so long; now it’s our turn to keep them alive.
Me Before You isn’t half-baked schlock that crumbles under the weight of its own unconscionable ignorance. No — instead, director Thea Sharrock and writer Jojo Moyes gave us a bio-horror masterpiece about a deadly outbreak of Ableism in small-town Wales. With Halloween upon us, it’s time their efforts got the recognition they deserve.
I had my doubts – because honestly, consuming media as a disabled person is an exercise in disappointment. So I was cautious when Margarita finally popped up on Netflix. Could it be? Was it really that good?
How did I, a girl growing up in 1970s New York City, relate to a drama about two women who fall in love during WWI? And, why has it remained with me for 40 years?
It’s wonderful to see two queer women dealing with complex and honest relationship problems that are treated with the same nuance and depth as those of the straight couples on screen, but DuVall never quite manages to step out of the shadow of The Big Chill.
It’s too easy to note that small places are slow at addressing issues of gender and sexuality while not exploring why. This is the answer to the why (and it’s one that AWOL addresses exceptionally well): Because there are far bigger fish to fry.
This isn’t a May-December lesbian romance. Janney and Page revive and expand upon the chemistry they shared as step-mother and daughter in Juno. But it is a movie about women — about women who have been abandoned, who find each other, who hurt each other deeply.
First Girl I Loved doesn’t reach the heights it aspires to, but it’s so much better than the sad (and just plain bad) movies we’re used to seeing about queer teens.