There are many documentaries that uncover forgotten history. Far fewer remind us that history was never really gone; it just wasn’t being told. Corps Man is unquestionably in the latter of the two, following Navy corpsman Dave Lara, whose extraordinary life spans the Vietnam War, surviving an abusive childhood, serving on the front lines, and quietly building a chosen family of gay servicemen during a time when simply existing could end his military career.

Lara has the rare ability to recount for us unimaginable experiences with equal parts candor, humor, and a keenly clear-eyed perspective. In our conversation, Lara reflects on finding “The Group,” the brotherhood that saved his life, why serving as a corpsman remains to this day the greatest honor of his life, and why, nearly 80 years on, he hopes his story not only preserves the past but helps create a few more allies for the future.

What was your initial reaction when you were told that someone wanted to tell your story in a documentary?

Not surprised. You see, I have been quietly lobbying for something like this to happen. I joined a veterans organization that centered on writing and media industries when I came to Los Angeles. These groups started with returning vets who served in the Afghanistan and Iraq wars and who wanted to break into the movie/TV/writers industry. I’m a writer and knew they would hear my journey, and someone would want to do something larger with my story than I was capable of.

Before serving in Vietnam, what was your life like in your younger years? What led you to become a Navy corpsman?

I was born into a very poor family in Northern California farm country. We moved to Los Angeles when I was 7 years old. My father was abusive, and he realized that I was gay when I was around 9 years old. He began to beat me and made me work in his handyman company, sometimes leaving me at a work site until late at night, without food. 

At 13, he tried to kill me. In those days, it was normal for a father to hit their children, hell, their wives too. So reporting him was useless. But my mother kicked him out of the house, and that ended the beatings. 

Again, we were very poor, and without health insurance, my mother died of congestive heart failure at 48 years old. My older sister had already left the house to get married. My father came and took my little brother, and I was left alone. So I joined the Navy at 17 years old after getting the LA courts to declare me emancipated.

What did it mean to serve as a corpsman during the Vietnam War?

I have a simple answer, and it may sound like a canned speech, but I am sincere when I say it was an honor. With the training I received, I was able to help save men’s lives. To ease their pain or to be present when they died. To say that it was difficult to have men die in my hands is an understatement, and I have no words to describe the pain of those experiences. But I know that I performed my duty. And speaking for every Corpsman who served in Vietnam, our work was the most important thing we have ever done in all of our collective lives.

The film explores the close bond among your fellow service members, known as “The Group.” What fortified these friendships?

This was pre-Stonewall, so our community was nonexistent. But I knew I needed to have contact with others like me. So I began to look for my “sisters”. I found them at the aid station and aboard the ship. I managed to get both groups together in Hong Kong and Singapore, as well as China Beach in Da Nang, Vietnam. When we first got together in Hong Kong, we rented a double suite at the Hong Kong Hilton and spent the whole night talking. It was the first time any of us had known our own kind, and we bonded in friendship. It was there that we called ourselves The Group, after a novel written by Mary McCarthy and a subsequent movie. The movie had just come out and followed the novel’s storyline about a group of Vaser girls who meet and form a lasting friendship. It follows their lives from there into adulthood. It’s a campy sort of movie, and we’d all seen it. Basically, the story’s themes are sexism, job discrimination, and troubles with men. And those themes resonated with us. 

You see, at that time, there was no tribe of LGBT+ people. We didn’t even know that our love was valid. It’s hard for modern gays to understand that, but we had to start formulating and actualizing ourselves from scratch. And The Group was our starting point for shedding the self-loathing that had been drummed into our heads by society.

As a gay man serving during that time, what was the reality of having to conceal this essential part of your identity?

You hear the saying “Band of Brothers” as it relates to men who fight in war. I think it started during WWII. This Band of Brothers is men who have similar backgrounds as you: wives, children, manly jobs, drinking buddies. The term came about because you could depend on these men to help you get through the worst that war throws at you. They help each other psychologically and physically to persevere. Well, gay men didn’t have a Band. I did not start The Group to create my Band of Brothers, but as it turns out, that is exactly what we were doing. 

It’s true we had to conceal our true selves, but it didn’t stop each of us from buying Zippo lighters and having them engraved with the words “The Group”. My memoir, Zippo Boys, is about us and our experiences. We saw war at its worst, and I know I would be dead without my Group.

How did balancing your military responsibilities with the need to hide who you were affect you?

A reality in war is that you need bodies in the field (that metaphor is intentional). So on the ship, I am pretty sure command knew about The Group, but because we were doing such vital work, they chose to ignore our existence. If you did something overt, well, that would get you in trouble. But if you kept your head down and did not “fraternize” with your fellow sailors, then you were pretty much left alone. 

It was when you got stateside that the witch hunts started getting after us. No matter what you did in the war, they still hated us to the point of ignoring honorable service in Vietnam. 

Looking back, do you think your fellow service members knew more about you than you realized at the time?

Not really. You know, being in the military, you pretty much are at work all the time. It’s just not something that you think about whether someone is gay, or a racist or a religious fundamentalist. Believe it when I say that being in the military, you become a professional and an adult. Oh, sure, there’s the exception, but really, it was just a bunch of people working with a very mixed group from all over the U.S. It was the politicians who set up the homophobic rules dictating our removal. For the men and women in uniform just trying to do their job, that’s all they were concerned with.

Was there anything about revisiting your memories for the documentary that took you by surprise?

No. I’ve been formulating my story for the world to hear. I know that sounds grandiose, but I want the world to know what it was like for one person to grow up gay in a world that deems our existence wrong. A friend I’ve known for a long time said he was proud of my accomplishments on hearing about the documentary. I told him, “I don’t think I accomplished anything other than lived a life.” I’m almost 80, so that’s a lot of life.

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Were there stories or moments that were particularly difficult to share on camera?

Only when I talk about men dying and losing contact with my friends, The Group.

What do you hope young queer folks take away from your story? Additionally, what do you hope current service people take away?

I don’t think young queer folks much care about the past experience of our community. That’s not a diss. The world is better for them now, so they don’t have to think about the past struggle. 

But they will come up against the realities of discrimination, especially with the current power structure. They will find their battles soon enough, and I am confident that when pushed, they will rise up and fight for their rights as we did. 

For my service brothers and sisters, I hope what my story does is to get them the respect for their service that they deserve. 

Fundamentally, that is my goal with all of this I am doing.

How do you think public attitudes toward LGBTQ+ service people have changed since your time in uniform?

I don’t want to limit this question to uniformed LGBT+ military people. For us in general, you have the answer already: marriage equality, being able to serve as an LGB person in the military, adoption, and the ability to work openly. This shows that we made amazing progress. And there is a cadre of straight people whom we now call allies, because they want to lend their voice to our cause. 

We just lost the T of that equation. This has happened in the military, but also public thinking is turning against our Trans members. So it’s up to us to continue to fight back and get them back into our fold. 

You know society thinks of us as one entity, “the queers.” But we are not a “third” sex. We are a group of humans whose lives are normal, and we have been around throughout human existence. We have always been part of the world, and there is nothing they can do to erase us.

After audiences watch CORPS MAN, what conversation do you hope it inspires?

My hope is that we gain more allies. Maybe not overt allies that champion our cause like Christopher Sanders, the Director/Producer of the documentary, or Ty Woodson, who is part of KLCS Public Broadcasting and championed the documentary with Fireheart Entertainment’s Jeffrey Michael Deary for funding. But to reach people. And maybe they will become, in their mind and in their heart, our allies. If my story does that, well, that would be a lot.

What is the one thing you hope folks remember about your story?

It may sound like I am bitter about my service to my country, but really, my time in Vietnam and the Navy was the best time of my life. The United States Navy gave me so much more than it took away. 

You see, I received a General Discharge under less-than-honorable conditions. The witch hunt caught up with me. But I’m glad I served. And The Group? I so love them and think of them often. I would have never had them as my friends if it weren’t for the Navy.

CORPS MAN is available to stream nationally on PBS.org or through the PBS app on your smart TV: https://www.pbs.org/video/corps-man-lgdmoe/

The world has arrived in Los Angeles. For the first time in over three decades, the FIFA World Cup is back in Southern California, and SoFi Stadium in Inglewood, officially rebranded “Los Angeles Stadium” for the tournament, is hosting eight of the biggest matches on the planet, including the USA’s home opener and the only quarterfinal being played on U.S. soil.

If you’re flying in for the games (or just want to be in the middle of the action), the single most important decision you’ll make isn’t which match to attend. It’s where you stay. Los Angeles is enormous, traffic is a genuine sport of its own, and the neighborhood you pick will shape your entire trip, from how long you sit in the car to whether you’re walking to a rooftop watch party or a beach bonfire after the final whistle.

Here’s an honest, neighborhood-by-neighborhood breakdown of where to base yourself for World Cup 2026.

First, Know Where the Matches Are

All of LA’s World Cup matches are at SoFi Stadium in Inglewood, roughly three miles from LAX and about 25 minutes from Downtown without traffic (and considerably more with it). The Metro K Line runs near the stadium and operates late on match nights, which matters more than you’d think, since stadium parking can run upward of $250 on game days, and rideshare surge pricing after a sellout crowd of 70,000 is brutal.

The takeaway: you don’t need to sleep next to the stadium, but you do want to be somewhere with a sane route to Inglewood. Let that guide everything below.

The Best Neighborhoods to Stay In

Here are the 6 best neighborhoods to choose from in Los Angeles when visiting the world’s top sporting event.

1. Inglewood and the South Bay

Closest to the Action

This is as close as it gets. Walk to the match or take a five-minute ride, sleep in on game day, and you’re back at the airport in no time when it’s all over. The area has rebuilt itself around the stadium these past few years, and you can feel the buzz on match days.

Be honest about the trade, though. This isn’t the palm-tree, rooftop-bar version of LA that ends up on postcards. Dining and nightlife run thinner here than in the flashier parts of town, and the well-placed rooms are the first to disappear. If Inglewood is your pick, stop reading and go book it. The USA games, in particular, are going fast.

2. Downtown LA

The Transit and Watch-Party Hub

DTLA is your answer if you’d rather not touch a car all week. It sits at the center of the Metro map, with rail heading toward Inglewood, and it’s stacked with bars and restaurants within walking distance of wherever you end up. There’s also a real fan-festival scene downtown across the tournament’s 39 days, so even the matches you didn’t get tickets to still feel like an event. You’ll find a crowd, a screen, and plenty of noise.

3. West Hollywood

Nightlife and the City’s Most Welcoming Energy

If your nights matter as much as your match days, stay in WeHo. It’s the engine of LA nightlife and the long-standing heart of the city’s LGBTQ+ community, and during a World Cup summer, the streets carry a celebratory hum that’s hard to fake anywhere else. 

This is also where the tournament and the community overlap most directly, such as Pride House LA/WeHo set up in the neighborhood for the opening weekend, turning it into a gathering point for queer soccer fans. You’re a short hop from Beverly Hills and the Sunset Strip, and the run out to Inglewood is very doable. People come here to keep the night going long past the final whistle, and the neighborhood obliges.

4. Beverly Hills and Mid-City

Central, Polished, and Convenient

Can’t decide? Plant yourself in the middle. The stretch through Beverly Hills, Mid-City, and the Miracle Mile leaves you roughly the same distance from the stadium, the beach, the bars, and the airport, which is a rare thing in a city this spread out. It’s leafy and polished, the restaurants are excellent, and getting to the Westside or Inglewood is no drama. Families and groups who want an easy life tend to end up around here.

5. Santa Monica and Venice

Beach Days Between Matches

Staying a full week and want it to feel like an actual vacation? Go to the coast. Mornings smell like the ocean, the days move more slowly, and there’s a pier and miles of bike path waiting between matches. The catch is obvious: you’re as far from Inglewood as this guide gets. Build in real time on match days, and lean on the train or a car you’ve booked ahead rather than gambling on rideshare.

6. Culver City and Playa Vista

The Quiet, Close-In Pick

Quietly, one of the best picks on this list. Tucked between the Westside and Inglewood, both put you close to the stadium without Inglewood’s all-business feel, and the food scene punches above its weight. If you want proximity but you also want to like the neighborhood you’re sleeping in, look here.

Hotels vs. a Private Villa in LA: Which Makes Sense for You?

For two people on a quick trip, a well-placed hotel is the obvious, painless call. But World Cup travel tends to come in groups. Friends are coordinating flights out of three different airports. A family bringing the grandparents. A crew of eight splitting the bill down the middle. That’s where the math shifts.

The moment you’re reserving three or four hotel rooms, the numbers start favoring a whole house. Same money, sometimes less, and you get a kitchen, a living room to pile into for the games you’re only watching on TV, and a pool to fall into afterward. For longer stays spanning multiple match dates, the value gap widens further.

For a standard stay, the usual suspects do the job well. Platforms like Airbnb and Vrbo are full of practical, mid-range homes across the city, and they’re the easy default for fans who just need a comfortable base and a place to sleep between games. But there’s been a clear rise in demand at the top end of the market for travelers who want privacy, dedicated service, and a home that feels like a destination in its own right rather than a budget compromise. World Cup summer, with its influx of international visitors and high-profile guests, is accelerating exactly that shift.

That’s the tier where a curated specialist like Villoura makes the difference, and it’s worth looking at luxury villa rentals in Los Angeles, which offer multi-bedroom homes across exactly the neighborhoods worth staying in, Beverly Hills, West Hollywood, Santa Monica, and beyond, with concierge service, private chefs, and the kind of space that turns a tournament trip into a proper basecamp. For a group splitting a four- or five-bedroom villa, it can be the most comfortable and most economical way to do the World Cup right.

Booking Tips for World Cup 2026

• Book as far ahead as you can. The highest-demand windows surround the USA matches (June 12 and June 25) and the July 10 quarterfinal. Rooms and rentals near the stadium go first.
• Pick your base around transit, not just price. A cheaper room an hour from a Metro line can cost you more in time and rideshare than a smarter, better-connected stay.
• Plan match-day logistics in advance. Stadium parking is expensive and limited; the Metro K Line is your friend, and it runs late on game nights.
• Pad your schedule. LA traffic is real. Give yourself a generous buffer when getting to Inglewood, especially for evening kickoffs.
• Match the neighborhood to your trip. Closest (Inglewood), most transit-friendly (DTLA), most fun after dark (West Hollywood), most central (Beverly Hills/Mid-City), most relaxing (the coast).

LA’s World Cup Match Schedule at a Glance

SoFi Stadium / Los Angeles Stadium hosts eight matches:

• June 12 — USA vs. Paraguay (USA home opener)
• June 15 — Iran vs. New Zealand
• June 18 — Switzerland vs. Bosnia and Herzegovina
• June 21 — Belgium vs. Iran
• June 25 — USA vs. Turkey
• June 28 — Round of 32
• July 2 — Round of 32
• July 10 — Quarterfinal (the only one in the United States)

The Bottom Line

There’s no single “best” place to stay in Los Angeles for the World Cup 2026, but there’s the best place for your trip. Stay in Inglewood if proximity to the pitch is everything. Stay in Downtown if you want to ride the rails and experience the watch-party energy. Stay in West Hollywood for the nightlife, the coast for the slow mornings, or the central corridor if you want a bit of all of it. And if you’re rolling in with a crew, a private villa might be the smartest call of all.

Wherever you land, you’ve picked a remarkable summer to be in Los Angeles. The world is here, so go enjoy it.

Absolut Vodka announced its role as the official vodka of Madonna’s just-released album Confessions II, unveiling a new creative campaign starring the Queen as the newest “Absolut Icon.” Inspired by Absolut’s iconic advertising legacy, the imagery celebrates individuality, nightlife culture, self-expression, and community values long championed by both brands. 

After her surprise late-night event in West Hollywood, where Madonna and long-time collaborator Stuart Price gave guests an exclusive first listen to music from Confessions II while guests sipped on Absolut cocktails, Absolut confirmed the partnership. The event marked the first in a series of experiences supporting the album throughout the summer. Now, the new creative has already taken to the streets. Beginning on June 14th, just in time for LA Pride, Los Angeles residents were the first to have the chance to see the new creative in person throughout the city. Roll-out of wild postings has also followed in other major cities. 

Madonna isn’t just quenching our thirst for spicy cocktails, mother is keeping us fed with not one, but two major releases: “Read My Lips (FIFA Version)” with Feid –  a surprise addition to the official FIFA World Cup ‘26 album, and the sizzling (pun intended) new track “Hot Sauce.”

To match these fiery tracks, Absolut has created two scorching new cocktail recipes highlighting their collaboration with Madonna and their Absolut Tabasco – a spicy new flavor from Absolut that’s smooth, with a slight sweetness to it, and a fiery kick. From their official website, here are the ingredients for the cocktails: 

Absolut Madonna

Ingredients

• 1 ½ Parts ABSOLUT® TABASCO™
• 1 Part Lemon Juice
• ½ Parts Simple Syrup
• ½ Parts Triple Sec
• Lemon Twist for garnish

Method
Add lemon juice, simple syrup, triple sec, and ABSOLUT® TABASCO™ into a cocktail shaker. Fill with ice and shake until chilled. Double strain into a martini glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

Our take: A flavorful drink. The combination of ingredients all work together well with Absolut Tabasco, elevating the nuances in each. The spiciness lingers, but isn’t overwhelming.  This is a sipping drink for sure.

Absolut Hot Sauce 

Ingredients

• 1 ½ Parts ABSOLUT® TABASCO™
• 1 Part Lemon Juice
• 3⁄4 Part Agave Syrup
• Cajun Spice for rim
• Lime for garnish
• Chili slice for garnish (optional)

Method
Add ABSOLUT® TABASCO™, lemon juice, and agave syrup into a cocktail shaker. Fill with ice and shake until chilled. Fine-strain over ice into a Cajun spice-rimmed glass. Garnish with a lime wheel and a chili slice. 

Our take: A classic take on a vodka-rita. Refreshing with the right amount of spicy kick to leave you wanting to sip more. 

Confessions II: Icon Edition is out today on Apple Music, featuring the iTunes exclusive bonus track, “Hot Sauce.” In true Madonna fashion, fans got their first taste not through traditional music channels, but via Absolut.com, @AbsolutUS on Instagram and @AbsolutVodka.US on TikTok. Cheers! 

‘Transcendent: A Memoir’
By Laverne Cox
c.2026, Gallery Books
$30/238 pages

OK, let’s just say it: You’re tired of lies.

They come from above, behind, from either shoulder. They’re repeated, laid out in a line, told as if they’re true but they’re not. You wish people would stop lying to you. As in the new memoir “Transcendent” by Laverne Cox, you wish you could tell the truth about yourself.

Sissy.

If the bullies in the neighborhood weren’t constantly calling Laverne Cox that name, then Cox’s mother was. “Sissy,” was just one word, though; the others were worse. The boys would say those things while they beat Cox, when they could catch her. Her mother screamed at her gentle child who didn’t like “boy” activities.

Even at eight years old, says Cox, “I was a prim and proper lady.”

Despite the verbal abuse about her perceived feminine behavior and a furtive, failed attempt at conversion therapy, Cox’s mother sent her and her brother to the Alabama School of Fine Arts, where Cox learned to dance. It was a lifeline for her, and the talent gained there helped Cox get into college in Indiana.

From there, Cox expected to find fame and fortune in New York City.

And yet, the abuse she suffered as a child held Cox back, and the words “There is something wrong with me” became a daily mantra.

“I didn’t know how to say it.” Cox says. “I’m a girl.”

There were therapy sessions to get to that point, as Cox learned the language and skills needed to speak the truth. Landing a sense of style helped, as did her brother’s support, a handful of friends, and happy, scent-infused memories of her mother’s make-up table.

At each step, Cox says, “I was expressing myself, I was also allowing myself to edge closer to my girlhood.”

Let’s start here: “Transcendent” is a difficult read – not for style, but for substance.

From her earliest memory of being sexually abused as a toddler; to verbal and physical abuse from many sources; to what, judging by photo captions, seems perhaps like forgiveness, author Laverne Cox glosses over nothing. Be ready, in other words, for pages and pages of memories that, like a roller-coaster, will make you cringe and want to hide your eyes, although doing so would be a mistake.

As this book progresses, Cox’s story does, too. We see a child who knows a truth but has no words for it. The child becomes a teen with a bursting sense of self, then a young adult who craves love as she’s stretching her wings. By the time Cox advances to writing about her career and the abuse is (mostly) over, readers will breathe a well-deserved sigh of relief. Whew, you’ve winced through a harrowing tale to reach a satisfying but not complete update.

Fans of Cox’s work will want “Transcendent,” as will anyone who’s transitioned, is thinking about it, or loves someone who has. It’s a rough read, but a necessary one, then, and that’s no lie.

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When one watches movies for a living, it’s as easy to fall into routine as it is with any job. Each movie is different, of course, each with its own characters, its own viewpoint, and its own story – (or at least its own variation on one), but in so many other ways, they have a tendency to be very much the same. 

This is because there is an entire “language” of filmmaking, established from the earliest days of cinematic storytelling, a process so subtle that most of us are barely aware of it: the image directs our attention, the script provides the shape and structure of the story, and the actors are our stand-ins, allowing us to “experience” the reality of the film through a transference of identity that occurs so reflexively that we don’t even notice it’s happened. 

That’s why it can be such a jolt when we come across a movie that doesn’t follow the expected rules, and we can’t think of a better recent example than Avalon Fast’s “Camp,” which drew attention as it made the rounds at last year’s festival circuit and embarked on a series of screenings in select cities beginning on June 26.

Fast, 26, is a queer Canadian filmmaker who specializes in “Girl Horror” (a genre that centers female experience), and who has already become a prominent force in the “new queer indie” movement. Her first feature, “Honeycomb,” got a Slamdance “virtual” screening, and she’s appeared as a performer in films like Alice Maio Mackay’s “The Serpent’s Skin” and leading trans filmmaker Jane Schoenbrun’s yet-to-be-released Cannes hit, “Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma.” With “Camp,” however, she stakes her claim to territory in a burgeoning field of queer/trans/feminist cinema to establish herself as a formidable “brand” of her own.

Rooted in a blend of trope-ish horror conventions and presented in a dreamy, ethereal style that elevates feeling over cognition, it’s the story of Emily (Zola Grimmer), a young woman accidentally responsible for two horrific tragedies, who feels hopelessly trapped by guilt and shame. At the suggestion of her father (Mike Tan), she takes a summer job as a counselor at a camp for “troubled” young people like herself, where she is quickly embraced and assimilated by the core group of female counselors – most of them “hot weirdos” who are more interested in all-night partying and a kind of home-grown witchcraft than they are in the wholesome camp activities they supervise during the day. Her initial response to this new environment is guarded, but as the summer goes on she comes to feel a strong connection to her fellow counselors, beginning to hope that she has – at last – found her place among a “family” that accepts her despite the life-shattering incidents that have come to define her sense of self. Yet at the same time, she becomes ever more aware of a call to confront and quiet the ghosts of her misfortunate past – even if it requires an unthinkable sacrifice.

Dreamy and purposefully opaque when it comes to differentiating between real experience and metaphysical reflection, Fast’s movie draws us in from the start with its edgy mix of visual atmosphere, blending an aesthetic that combines home-movie nostalgia with the ironically whimsical flourishes of the digital age to establish a tone that feels like a half-forgotten memory reconstructed in the form of an Instagram “reel.” It’s a potent effect, creating a milieu of surreal impressionism in which the plot advances more through mood and fragments of subjective experience than through concrete narrative form; at times, it feels untethered, yes, but it always manages to orchestrate its seemingly disjointed perspective into a shape that makes sense — even if we’re not quite sure how or why, or even what is actually happening.

The effect is cumulative, as the story becomes less bound to logic and realism while leaning further into a perspective that favors the arcane and mysterious over the rational and concrete. And while that might prove frustrating for viewers expecting a more traditional kind of “horror,” it provides for an experience that’s more likely to satisfy the kind of fans who appreciate being left to provide their own interpretations. The most obvious comparison would be with the work of David Lynch; there’s clearly an influence there for Fast’s darkly intuitive approach, which goes beyond the obvious parallels of its “Twin Peaks”-ish setting (the forest is most definitely a character here) to emulate the stream-of-consciousness narrative flow that marked much of Lynch’s late-career work.

“Camp” is far from imitative, however. While it may share some traits with the work of Lynch and other masters of contemporary surreal horror, it creates a unique “vibe” by allowing its own creative feminine energy to take the lead. The traumas it depicts spring from a definitively female space, from first-menstruation nightmares to the absurdities of having to defer to the “leadership” of a mediocre male who has more power than you (in this case, Austyn Van de Kamp as the camp’s supervisor, a naive but endearing yokel whose Jesus-centric worldview is undermined by the “coven” under his tentative command), and the overall treatment of its few male characters is largely less than forgiving. Yet on a deeper level, its subtext of carrying “unforgivable sin” that affects every aspect of one’s interactive life feels ultimately as much an expression of queer trauma as it does feminist ideology. The result is just cryptic enough to leave us pondering what we’ve just seen yet clear enough to deliver an emotional catharsis which feels, if not exactly curative, at least healing enough to pave a way forward.

Admittedly, it’s not a film that will likely tick off all the boxes for hardcore horror fans; while it might deal in dark emotions and a certain witchiness that ties it to the legacy of such pagan-flavored classics as “The Wicker Man” or “Midsommar,” its terrors are more existential than visceral, pondering the difficulties of overcoming self-hatred rather than pitting us against a palpable physical threat, supernatural or otherwise. Indeed, it’s more introspective psychodrama than it is traditional horror – which is less a criticism than it is a disclaimer.

Though it’s Fast’s moody aesthetic that emerges as the “star” attraction of “Camp,” much of its effectiveness hinges on the performances of its cast. Grimmer, especially, is central, and she succeeds admirably not only in winning our empathy but in peeling back the morally murky layers of Emily’s path to redemption in a way that feels like empowerment rather than ethical compromise. However, the ensemble of “soul sisters” that surrounds her (Alice Wordsworth, Cherry Moore, Ella Reece, Lea Rose Sebastianis, and Sophie Bawks-Smith) all play their own particular part in creating the “magic” that makes the whole thing work.

All in all, “Camp” is an exhilaratingly fresh – if sometimes opaque – expression of queer filmmaking from a feminine perspective; that’s a regrettably rare occurrence which makes Fast’s fastidiously unsentimental (yet deeply empathetic) exploration of queer guilt all the more powerful, and makes her movie an essential addition to your watchlist.

You know Rhea Litrè. Whether it’s from seeing her at shows all over West Hollywood. Perhaps you know her through her drag mothers, Raja or Mayhem Miller, or from her drag bestie Willam Belli. Maybe it was as a member of Tranzkuntinental with Kelly Mantle, Detox, Willam, and Vicky Vox. Or maybe you remember her from the parody song, “Let’s have a KaiKai.”

So you know her, but you may not have known she was Latina.  Litrè has just released a full Spanglish album with recording artist VELO titled PUNTO. Velo is widely known for his reggaeton-inspired club anthems, including Big D*ck Daddy and Perra (Bitch) with Dragula star Melissa Befierce, who also guest stars on this album.

“This album is a love letter to my Chicano, Tejano, and Mexicano heritage.” Rhea shares. She adds, “This album helped me connect with my roots and explore how incredible and authentic it is to sing in Spanish.”

The album was produced in the Dominican Republic by Velo Productions and premieres today  on all streaming platforms and with the music video for the song “Tu Dueño.”

Litrè adds, “This goes out to all Latinos who don’t know Spanish fluently. People can be so cruel sometimes, especially within our own communities. You are Latino! Be Proud! Shout from the rooftops!”

She took some time to talk to the Blade about drag, the DNA of this album, and her own relationship to her heritage. 

First, I have to ask: the album is named Punto… is that a play on the Spanish word for period/periodt?

That is exactly what I was going for. It may or may not translate perfectly, but I am no stranger to interesting album names, like my last studio album, BuckBonkey.

What made you want to release an album in Spanish? 

I have been singing in Spanish for as long as I can remember. I never felt completely comfortable singing in Spanish because I do not speak it fluently. Christina Aguilera’s “Mi Reflejo” gave me a lot of strength in recording this album, and the more I learned the lyrics, what they meant, and how they were sung on this album, I became more connected than ever to anything I had ever felt.

I feel so connected to my culture when I sing in Spanish. This album is a love letter to all my Latino brothers and sisters who were not taught Spanish and still connect to our culture through other things like designing, dancing, or, in my case, music. 

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What was it like growing up Latino?

 INCREDIBLE. My family was very close growing up. I have over 30 cousins. My Wella (abuela) and Wello (abuelo) had 12 kids, so there was always a birthday, graduation, holiday, or something going on. If you ask me, I was Wella’s favorite. Or maybe it was because I was her lil gay grandchild, but when all the boys had to leave to play outside, I got to stay with her in the kitchen. I will always remember that. The security in Wella’s arms and a warm, fresh homemade flour tortilla in hand is what I remember most about childhood.

How did this album come about? 

Music has always been my main passion when it came to drag. When VELO approached me about doing music together back in 2017, we both knew we were going to do a Spanglish Album. Here we are, almost 10 years later, and it’s finally upon us. This is unlike anything we have done before; this album is written from the heart and shared with some of the best friends that I have been working with for my whole career. When Scarlett BoBo from Canada’s Drag Race and Melissa Befierce from Dragula joined VELO and me on this record, it truly turned into a family affair. 

What was it like working with VELO? 

VELO is incredible and knows how to handle the doll! He’s got all the swag and has the sexiest singing voice. I love the way VELO writes in Spanish for me. He knows exactly what I would want to say and how to say it. Incredibly, VELO and I recorded the majority of this album on a week-long trip to Maine and sent our stems out to the Dominican Republic to be produced and mastered. 

What inspired the songs? 

Partying, romance, and being a Bad Bitch have always been prevalent when it comes to my music. My travels to Mexico, especially Puerto Vallarta, have heavily inspired this album. There is something for everyone on PUNTO. “Debil” for Love, “Tu Dueno” for Romance, and “Down in PV” to dance! 

What was the sound and vibe you were going for?

We got some tropical, we got some dance, some Reggaeton. We really wanted to create a sexy vibe for this record, and I believe we nailed it. One of my favorite tracks is “Down in PV” featuring Scarlett BoBo. Scarlett had a cabaret show and lived there for a few months last year. 

I can’t even count how many times I have been to PV. I got to shout out all my favorite hotspots like the Tryst Hotel, CC Slaughters, the Mantamar & more! Puerto Vallarta was dreamt up by a gay man; it is truly my favorite place to have a Gaycation! “Down in PV” is a fun track to dance to! Let’s go dance!

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Can you tell me a little bit more about these amazing guest performers?

I met Scarlett Bobo back in 2013 in Toronto while I was touring. Let’s be real, we are cut from the same cloth. I loved that bitch the second I met her, and we are best of friends today. Scarlett is a real one, and it just was so organic to have my sister on this record. 

Melissa Befierce is one of the Baddest Bitches in the game. Melissa and I have hosted countless parties together, and I am completely enamored by her artistry and beauty through the art of drag. Melissa is an ICON, and I am honored to have her on this album. 

What do you think makes drag different for Latin audiences?

Latinos are very connected to the culture. For example, when I watched Drag Race México, I felt every runway in my soul. I thought to myself, “I need to explore more of my culture.” I want to feel more than sexy and strong in my drag. I want to feel more connected to my culture, and that is what this record is about. PUNTO

Were there any funny stories while recording/working on the album? 

After a full day of shooting the music video for “Tu Dueno,” VELO and I went to the Abbey. The Abbey serves the stiffest drinks this side of the Mississippi, honey, and I was lit! While blackout drunk, VELO shot me as a video ho for his song “Dimelo,” and the footage is hilarious. Go watch that video and see if you can tell how lit the doll is. I remember nothing! 

You can catch PUNTO on July 1st on all streaming platforms and watch the premiere of the video for “Tu Dueño” on YouTube.

Thousands of queer viewers are huge fans of Yona Speidel — they may just not know it yet. 

This is due largely to the fact that, up until a few months ago, Speidel went by a different name professionally: Lady J. It’s Lady J who’s credited as a producer and writer on Transparent, one of the first mainstream TV series to center a transgender woman as its protagonist. And when the series Pose began in 2018, it was Lady J who served as a member of the program’s central creative team, writing and producing nearly every episode to develop the onscreen refuge that thousands of fans still see the show as today. 

It can’t be understated how much of an impact Lady J had on modern television. But just recently, fans were shocked to hear that she’d be retiring…her name, that is. The artist assured everyone that she still planned to create programs that completely shift how certain identities are portrayed in the media. She will continue the vital work she’d already been doing for years, only now, she’s ready to do it under her true name: Yona Speidel.

“Lady J is a showgirl name, and I’m not really doing that anymore,” laughed Speidel, as she spoke with the LA Blade about the decision to change her professional moniker. “At one point, I did wear sparkly sequin bras and perform in drag clubs — but I’ve aged out of that a little bit. And as a writer, director, and producer in Hollywood, I thought it was time to retire ‘Lady J’ and just go with my day-to-day name.”

And though she’s only been working for around a year with this ‘new’ name, Yona already has some impressive credits under her belt; she currently works as a writer and executive producer on the acclaimed Netflix series, The Boroughs, which has been applauded for its mixture of sci-fi horror and biting social critique. This is all in addition to the ample work she did as Lady J, with Speidel reminding fans that she is still the ingenious creative they knew and loved before. That dynamic artistry has always been a part of the woman, with Yona saying, “I always had ‘the flair,’ and it stood out from a very young age…I learned to hide it for survival.”

“I grew up in Amish country, Pennsylvania, and my family came from an old order of Mennonites, though they left many generations ago,” Speidel explained. “It was hard in the 1980s growing up with AIDS in the headlines, and all the homophobia that was happening in the world to blame gay people for this disease. [That] manifested in school, so there was a lot of bullying…the ‘flair’ was just something that I learned to temper down, and I had to be careful where I showed it. And then as the world progressed…I let it out.”

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She described using music as an escape from her harsh community, avoiding chores on her family’s farm by spending hours each day practicing the piano. It was a talent that took Yona abroad for college and, eventually, to New York City, where she spent years as a professional musician while finally living as the proud trans woman she is today.  

It was during her time in New York that Speidel began to write and direct, becoming a part of the city’s vibrant theater scene and helping put on numerous productions. It was just as she had begun to explore what being a producer could look like that she was asked to join the team of Transparent, a new show that promised to ‘completely change how trans people were portrayed on television.’ Excited at this possibility — and ready to ensure the series was actually accurate — Yona joined the program. 

And the rest, as they say, is history. 

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Whether it be the plight of queer people of color during the AIDS epidemic in Pose or how society mistreats the elderly in The Boroughs, Yona’s career is defined by amplifying the voices too many overlook today. This is in addition to serving as a trailblazer every day as an out trans woman in the entertainment industry, with the producer emphasizing, “It’s up to us to really test the waters. [We have to ask,] ‘Is it safe for me to be out at work? Is it safe for me to be all of me?’” She explained that at the beginning of her career, it wasn’t, and that’s why so much of her early work is focused more on introducing the general concept of LGBTQ+ identity through straightforward storytelling. 

But she reminds everyone reading that it was a long time ago. Through her current work, she hopes to create an entertainment industry where underserved narratives are given center stage, where they’re allowed to challenge what general audiences are taught about their communities. It’s why she continues to create TV shows that center marginalized folks — because she knows that by introducing these voices today, it will be so much easier for them to take the spotlight again tomorrow. 

Yona’s is a vital kind of advocacy that, as we see more attacks against all kinds of LGBTQ+ voices (especially trans folks), we need more than ever. She emphasized that she understands how scary it can feel being a queer creative right now, but that is exactly why artists need to continue introducing these stories that nobody else could have ever thought of! As someone who’s spent a majority of her life navigating this tenuous industry, Yona advised her fellow artists, “Shut out the negativity as much as you can. That’s a luxury if you can do that, but if you can take the luxury, do it. Be present with your friends and with your family, and with the people who love you. Feel that love, be embraced by that love. And don’t neglect that love in favor of anxiety and what-ifs.”

It’s advice that Lady J followed, allowing her to create such monumental pieces of television — and it’s what she’ll continue to live by as she does even more for her queer community today as Yona Speidel.

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Iran and Egypt on Friday faced off during the World Cup’s “Pride Match” in Seattle.

Iran is among the handful of countries in which consensual same-sex sexual relations remain punishable by death. Discrimination and persecution based on sexual orientation and gender identity is commonplace in Egypt.

Friday’s match coincided with Pride weekend in Seattle. The Egyptian Football Association and the Football Federation Islamic Republic of Iran both objected to playing in the “Pride Match.”

Egypt and Iran tied 1-1.

FIFA, for its part, allowed Pride flags inside the stadium during the match.

“The FIFA World Cup 2026 is an inclusive event that welcomes people from all backgrounds,” a FIFA spokesperson told the Los Angeles Blade in a statement. “Fans of all sexual orientations and gender identities are welcome at matches and events. General statements of human rights, including rainbow flags and other flags representing sexual orientation and gender identity, are permitted under the FIFA World Cup 2026™ Stadium Code of Conduct and may be displayed inside stadiums provided they are used in a manner consistent with the code.”

Human Rights Watch welcomed FIFA’s decision to allow Pride flags inside the stadium. Outright International, a global LGBTQ+ and intersex rights group, distributed Pride flags in Seattle on Friday, which was Pride Match Day.

“Visibility matters,” said Outright International Executive Director Maria Sjödin. “Pride is now being celebrated in more than 100 countries, including this weekend in Seattle. For many LGBTIQ people, seeing a Pride flag in public is a reminder that they are not alone, and that their rights and dignity are recognized.”

FIFA President Gianni Infantino earlier this year told Die Weltwoche, a Swiss magazine, that “there will be no ‘Pride Match’ at the (FIFA) World Cup.”

“There will be a FIFA World Cup match in Seattle, and on the same day, events organized by external organizations will be taking place in the city,” said Infantino. “But that has nothing to do with the match itself.”

Peter Tatchell, a long-time LGBTQ+ activist from the U.K. who is director of the Peter Tatchell Foundation, was among those who traveled to Seattle for Friday’s match. Tatchell accused FIFA of not vetting World Cup teams — specifically Iran, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Ghana, Senegal, Qatar, Tunisia, Morocco, Iraq, Uzbekistan, and Algeria — over whether they would allow gay players.

“FIFA is protecting LGBT+ visibility in the stands while failing to protect LGBT+ players on the pitch,” said Tatchell.

There’s something about horror films that makes them particularly apt as a vehicle for allegory. Vampires, zombies, ghosts, or seemingly death-proof serial killers can all easily be seen as metaphors for some lurking threat from the “dark side” of our own collective psyche, and stories about them are almost always cautionary tales that remind us that it’s the “dark side” of our own nature that we must confront in order for the danger to be eliminated.

This subtext has always been present in the genre, of course; but with the so-called “renaissance” of horror cinema that has taken place across the past decade or so, modern filmmakers in the genre have made increasingly bold choices with regard to how “sub” it is. “Get Out” or “Sinners” need no explanation to get across their allegorical points about racism, nor does “The Substance” require an expert to recognize its satirical observations about the toxic cultural obsession with youth and beauty. These are movies that wear their proverbial hearts on their sleeves, instead of masking them behind layers of cliched and “coded” plot tropes.

The same can definitely be said of “Leviticus,” the debut feature from Australian writer/director Adrian Chiarella, that not only hinges on a conceit that has obvious relevance to its not-so-hidden themes but tips off the whole thing by its very choice of title – a reference to the Old Testament book that is frequently cited by fundamentalist bigots as proof of God’s condemnation of homosexuality, and that sets up exactly what we are in for before the opening credits even begin to roll.

Set in a conservative rural town (in the Australian state of Victoria, though it will feel distinctly familiar to anyone who grew up in similar communities anywhere else in the world), it centers on Naim (Joe Bird), a teen boy newly transplanted there by his mother (Mia Wasikowska) – who has ties to a fundamentalist Christian enclave there – after the death of his father. Their new life – like seemingly everything else in the community – is tied directly to the church, which makes it doubly inconvenient when Ryan (Stacy Clausen), son of the town’s presiding preacher, invites him for an after-school “hangout,” which leads to a furtive make-out session in the town’s deserted mill. 

Though the boys promise each other to keep it secret, they are both soon “outed” to their parents and subjected to a ritual performed by a mysterious “deliverance healer” (Nicholas Hope), intended to “protect” them from their “sinful” impulses. Soon after, a series of mysterious and violent encounters lead them to investigate local rumors around incidents involving other local teens – and the revelation that the ritual has summoned a malevolent entity, which appears to them as the person they are most attracted to (in this case, each other) and unleashes its murderous wrath when they give in to temptation. Their only chance of staying safe is to stay apart – unless they can find a way to defeat the supernatural force that has been turned loose against them.

Yes, it’s all very obvious. There is no attempt to mask what Chiarella’s movie is really about, though the word itself – like the biblical book with which it shares a title – is never spoken aloud in the film. It’s hardly a spoiler, though, to confirm that “Leviticus” is a story about homophobia. From its obvious evocation of real-life “conversion therapy” to its more subtle exploration of the secrecy and social shaming that surrounds same-sex love for so many teens growing up in an environment of fundamentalist religious tradition, every nuance of the film’s ingenious premise announces the clear intent of its messaging: homophobia is the true evil at work here, and its deadly power lies in its ability to make queer people afraid of being who they are.

While some might argue that presenting such an “on the nose” allegory in what is ostensibly “just” a horror film is a heavy-handed choice, we suggest – in this case, at least – that it’s exactly what makes the movie work so effectively.

From the very first scenes (after a prologue that ominously hints at the arcane evil that will soon come into play), we are invested in Naim and Ryan, whose tentative-but-joyous afternoon tryst is bound to trigger our own individual memories of adolescent sexual awakening, and whom we hope will be able to navigate their way through to the other side – even before the introduction of supernatural hate demons being summoned to kill them by using their own feelings for each other as a trap. They’re almost a definitive queer “coming of age” archetype, echoing generations of treasured “first time” memories and “what if“ fantasies about what might have been; we want them to be together, to overcome the otherworldly forces deployed to keep them apart – and when their romance is distorted, inverting their natural attraction to each other into fear and mistrust, it’s their own inability to abandon their feelings for each other that continues to put them in danger, making us pull to their side even more.

That emotional stake is the anchor of “Leviticus,” which lends an imperative to what might otherwise be a campy B-movie thriller and turns it into a genuinely engaging – and therefore terrifying – supernatural drama that is all the more powerful for playing to our hearts. Much of this effect hinges on the chemistry between its two young stars (which hits just the right pitch between irresistible hormonal urge and inseparable soul connection), but it’s also underscored by the irony of their being immersed within a culture that would rather destroy them than allow them to exist outside its traditional “norms.”

Nevertheless, while “Leviticus” succeeds by making us identify with its cult-crossed teenage lovers, it pays off by delivering not just a genuinely unsettling, profoundly disturbing, and unflinchingly brutal personification of religious bigotry at its most cruelly hateful, but by providing a tense and terrifying horror scenario that works on a pure “genre” level. Simply put, even setting aside any wider subtext about the deadly impact of homophobia, it’s a creepy, nerve-wracking ride.

A critical hit as part of the Sundance Festival’s “Midnight” section earlier this year, “Leviticus” went into theatrical release on June 19, the latest in a continuing trend of fresh and inventive films that has elevated the horror movie to new levels of critical appreciation. For us, it’s worth singling out as a boldly original expression of queer experience, elegantly constructed from the reinterpreted formulas of a genre that has always had particular draw for those in our community who knew how to read between the lines.

The difference is, this time we don’t have to – the message is spelled out loud and clear, and that in itself is enough to make it feel a little bit like empowerment, at a time when we could all use as much of it as we can get.

Books for Pride by various authors
c.2026, various publishers
$18.95 – $29.00

How many times have you marched so far this month? Seems like there’s always a reason to gather and walk during Pride, but save some time for yourself, too. You’ll want to reflect, rest, and read these great books about living your best Pride month. 

No doubt, you’ve thought once or twice about stepping away from society as it is, and moving somewhere more accepting. So read “Qtopia: A Memoir of Love, Land, and Liberation” by Juda Bennett (University of Wisconsin Press, $18.95), the story of doing exactly that, and how it turned out.

Back in the ‘70s, Bennett fled the suburbs and all it represented, and went “back to the land,” to a commune named Lavender Hill. Some of the places he’d lived before then had promised way more than they delivered, but Lavender Hill was different – more rural, more open, more queer, much better. But you know all good things must end, and that includes “queer utopia.” The only thing left was to re-enter the mainstream, a journey unto itself, and one worth reading.

Speaking of memoirs, in “Gay Mormon Dad” by Chad Anderson, art by Remy Burke (Graphic Mundi, $21.99), you’ll read about Anderson’s life as a husband (to a woman), a father, and a man who seemingly had it all but it wasn’t right, and he wasn’t happy. He was gay, but acknowledging it, telling his family and his church family, could mean the loss of everything he loved. It’s a story that may be familiar to you, in some way, and it’s a quick read.

For most of his life, Joseph Osmundson dreamed about getting pregnant and having a family. The former didn’t happen and, as for the latter, as he writes in his memoir, “Spawning Season: An Experiment in Queer Parenthood” (Bloomsbury, $27.99) the journey for a gay man to become a father can have plenty of roadblocks.

When two women approach Osmundson to be a sperm donor, it appears that his ultimate dreams are about to come true. Things go swimmingly – until race enters the conversation. Are the words “donor” and “dad” the same? Read this powerful book, and think about it.

And finally, if parenthood as a gay person is something that’s a case of maybe-later, then “Good Morning Moon: A Snapshot of an American Family” by Brad Gooch (Harper, $29) is a book to find. It’s the story of late-life love, surrogacy, and identity as Gooch learns about himself as he learns to be a good Dad. This is a great book for older fathers, and anyone who’s on the parental fence, later in life.

If these great books aren’t enough for you, or if you’re looking for something different for Pride, then head to your favorite bookstore or library and ask the staff there to help you find your next best read. They’ve got a lot of books to put in your hands, a lot of sunny afternoons full of relaxing and promise, so march on out, get a new book, and happy Pride!