‘Bromantasy’
By Maire Roche
c.2026, G.P. Putnam’s Sons
$20/339 pages

“Danger” just happens to be your middle name.

Any fray, any tussle, anytime anybody needs help, they count on you to step in and save the day. You’re brave, smart and strategic, kind to old people, children, and small animals and, as in the new book “Bromantasy” by Maire Roche, dragons.

Of all the things there were to do – preserving food, keeping house for himself and his best friend Morningthall “Mo” Elmthorn, advanced skincare, and drinking at the local tavern down the road – the one thing Juniper O’Reilly couldn’t resist was a good brawl. It happened so often that Juniper honestly looked forward to it, though Mo wasn’t a fan.

Mo was more grown-up, calm, thoughtful, able, and Juniper loved him for it. He loved Mo, in fact, since they were little boys. He loved Mo in ways that they didn’t talk about, so they kept a wall between their bedrooms in their cottage.

Except for that one time.

They didn’t talk about that, either.

Instead, as they did often, on a warm fall night, Juniper and Mo went to the tavern, where mead was served and they could learn about the king’s weekly quests. There, Juniper could also find a good brawl, which is how he and Mo accidentally got into trouble: Juniper trounced one of the king’s men and was forced into a quest.

He didn’t want to fight dragons and he felt bad that Mo had been dragged along. He felt even worse leaving their farm, sleeping on the ground, wearing the same clothes every day, and not having enough skincare product along. A campfire added to the problem. A roving, lying prince, also in search of dragons, didn’t help. And though a quest was no place for a child, Juniper and Mo found a frightened little girl they had no choice but to protect.

A child with strange eyes, sharp teeth, and fire on her breath.

“And just like that, Juniper and Mo had a dragon.”

Bros + romance + fantasy = “Bromantasy.” It also could equal one of two other things: a romp full of humor, dragons, kings, princes, and adventure.

Or it could equal a whole lot of eye-rolling.

It’s a fact that this book is funny, in the way that a 1980s high school comedy movie is funny – meaning that it’s dippy, giddy, and very caricaturish but you’ll laugh quite often. The story contains everything you want in a fantasy romance (a “romantasy”), including human-like alternate species, a life-changing journey, and plenty of nudge-nudge-wink skirting around the attraction the two main characters have for one another. It’s a decent story, convoluted in just the right way. Purely, it’s an escape.

So why wouldn’t you want to read it? See above, and depending on your favorite reading genre. High-brow literature, this ain’t.

For the right reader, “Bromantasy” is a decent-enough vacation read, something not too taxing or hard on the brain. It’s for novel lovers, dragon hunters, king’s questers, princes, and romantics. For everyone else, this tale is just middling.

The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.

Sometimes, when you think you know what to expect from a movie, it doesn’t match those expectations. What do you do then?

I’m not talking about the unmet expectations of fans, like those who complain that Kubrick’s “The Shining” made sweeping changes from Stephen King’s novel, or start a social media campaign trashing the latest “Star Wars” or “Marvel” film because of a plot twist they don’t like. Those are complaints about content, about a story not going the way it is “supposed” to go.

I’m referring to the expectations we have when we walk into a movie thinking that it’s going to have a particular tone, a specific style, a familiar formula – essentially that it is going to easily fit into a comfortable box, and stay there. What happens when it doesn’t?

That’s the question I found myself asking as I watched “Maddie’s Secret,” the directorial debut from gay actor/comedian John Early, which is now screening in a limited theatrical release. It’s the story of a humble housewife whose doting husband persuades her to turn her love of cooking into a career as a virally popular “food influencer,” only to find that her sudden success triggers traumatic feelings from her childhood; clearly a contemporized hybrid of the melodramatic “woman’s pictures” of Old Hollywood and the “Afterschool Special” style cautionary dramas of ‘70s/’80s TV, it has all the earmarks of being an exercise in “camp” – especially since Early himself stars as Maddie.

To put it plainly, it’s an over-the-top old-school melodrama combined with modern-day satire of online social media fame, with a gay man in a dress playing the lead. What could be campier than that?

And it is campy, make no mistake. Yet at the same time, somehow, it isn’t. From its opening scene (which shows us Maddie as she jogs to her dishwashing job at the headquarters of an LA test kitchen/content studio named “Gourmaybe”), we expect things to get wacky. The ingredients are definitely present for it, like her aggressively butch co-worker/BFF Deena (Kate Berlant), who is clearly nursing a serious “girl crush”; bitchy TikTok star Emily (Claudia O’Doherty), who demeans her and ridicules her ambitions of being a chef; and boss Zach (Connor O’Malley), a womanizing corporate “bro” who enthusiastically embraces all the toxic traits we associate with that description.

As the story opens up beyond her workplace, there are more elements that feel ripe for the kind of histrionic humor we might expect from a film by John Waters, or the stylish old-school parody of Charles Busch, or even the radicalized sexual transgression of Bruce La Bruce: Maddie’s adorably bearish husband Jake (Eric Rahill) could be made into a goofy caricature with a food fetish, and her estranged, abusive mother Beverlee (Kristen Johnston in a deliciously grotesque performance) is easily monstrous enough to be at the campy center of any “hag horror” from the ‘60s.

And when we finally discover her “secret” (spoiler alert: it’s an eating disorder that returns when the pressures of being a popular social media chef bring up old feelings about her relationship with food), it’s easy to imagine a different filmmaker taking the whole thing in a thoroughly savage direction; the potential for tasteless, excessive, and deliberately juvenile comedy might be limitless, in the hands of a director unafraid of being branded “offensive.”

It’s hard not to see all these possibilities on hand as we watch Early’s film – which he also wrote – and (for myself, anyway) hard not to hope they all play out to maximum outrageous effect.

They don’t. Instead, “Maggie’s Secret” does something so unexpected that it feels, at first, like a mistake: it decides to play things straight.

It’s still a comedy, make no mistake, but it’s not the kind of comedy we think it’s going to be. It doesn’t go for over-the-top anarchy; it doesn’t go for the bitch-slapping catfight between rival divas, or for the running parade of filthy double-entendres, or for the absurd “gross-out” humor that might have emerged from its scenes of binge-and-purge overeating. Well, okay, maybe it does go for that last one, a little bit.

What all this comes down to, perhaps, is that the film gets its laughs – and there are quite a lot of them – without making fun of itself or, more importantly, its characters. The comedy here is built into the story; it comes from its send-up of social media influencers, corporate content creation, media tie-ins, and all the other interlocked microcosms of our “new, now, next” digital culture; it comes from the foibles and fumbles of its characters as they pursue their objectives in the story, from the qualities and quirks of their personalities, from their simply being funny because they feel like being funny; and yes, it sometimes comes from the obvious cliches of form that we recognize, the plot formulas and sudden revelations and shocking twists that have emerged time and time again in these kinds of domestic melodramas, but it does so good-naturedly, in a way that feels like laughing “with” the movie than laughing “at” it.

It also never diminishes or ridicules the seriousness of Maddie’s eating disorder, nor the experiences that come for her when she (spoiler alert, again) ends up going into an inpatient facility to be treated for it; though these later scenes come populated with their own set of stereotypical characters, ready to be exploited, the movie may poke gentle fun, but it humanizes them, too, helping build the film toward an emotional climax that leaves us with the kind of satisfying uncertainty we don’t quite expect from a movie like this one.

Most significantly, perhaps, it never gets its laughs out of the fact that Maddie is being played by a man – and it’s this that makes Early’s film feel more profound than we expect it to be. It’s not a “drag” movie, or a cross-dressing comedy, or anything to do with Maddie’s gender at all. She is a woman, presented without exaggeration or irony, and she just happens to be portrayed by a male actor instead of a female one. There’s no joke involved, just an excellent performance.

This is an apt approach, considering that Early cites Waters’ 1974 “Female Trouble” as his inspiration for “Maddie’s Secret.” Though he sets aside the extremes of that classic in favor of nuance and kindness, he takes his cue from its star – the incomparable Divine, who never called himself a drag queen but considered himself an actor playing a part. Early does the same, and it makes his film into a kind of full-circle moment in queer “underground” cinema (if a premiere at the 2025 Toronto International Film Festival, where “Maddie’s Secret” screened to enthusiastic response, can be called “underground”) which pays homage to the legacy of a past icon while picking up the mantle and carrying it in a new – and unexpected – direction.

That’s the thing about expectations: sometimes they are left unfulfilled – and in answer to my own question, as I watched this uniquely winning queer indie gem, what happens just might be something wonderful.

The best way to describe Leonardo Nam, who plays villain Maddox Hatter in Descendants: Wicked Wonderland, is joyfully chaotic. From the jump, he’s sweet, charming, and upbeat. A South Korean born in Argentina and raised in Australia, he’s got a delicious accent and an even better demeanor.

He’s an LA resident, actor, and producer with credits including HBO’s Westworld, Marvel’s Werewolf by Night, Netflix’s Yes Day, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants franchise, and The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift. He’s also a husband and father. 

His character of Maddox goes from fan favorite to villain and returns as the antagonist in Descendants: Wicked Wonderland. He joins other queer icons who have played villains in the franchise, including Kristen Chenoweth, Cheyenne Jackson, Kathy Najimy and Jamal Sims.

Nam took some time to discuss everything from parenting to Disney to his current villain status.  

How do you feel about rejoining the franchise?

LN: Oh, my goodness, I am absolutely loving being part of this franchise again. You know, from the very get-go, I was so grateful that I got to play in the sandbox with Disney and they invited me in. It’s a place where anything goes. Imagination lives here. Then to jump through the rabbit hole into another universe, and to play in Wonderland in this way was just like just delicious, excellent. I loved it

What does it feel like being out, you know, queer person working on a Disney project?

Oh, it feels wonderful to be able to sit here with you right now and to have brought my family to the premiere. That was really important for me. Anyone who’s doing anything in their life that they pour their heart and soul into, it’s really wonderful when you’re able to share that with family, with friends, and with the community.

It was just such a wonderful experience. I’ve got twin boys. My kids are now 9, so they’re kind of right in the pocket of where this hits home for them. I remember when I was 9, watching Disney films and resonating with them, and dreaming about being in this whole new world, and what have you. It’s just so wonderful to share it.

How did it feel to play a villain?

Are you kidding me? That’s just so delicious to play as an actor, you know? When I read a script, and there is a line that references an evil kind of mustache-twirling kind of vibe, everyone is referencing a Disney villain like they’re mocking it, or having fun with it, or being ironic about it. Everyone is referencing an OG Disney villain

Now, to be a Disney villain and to have a villain song is a dream come true. This is so extra for me, and to be able to share this right now in 2026 with my family right now where I am, it feels kind of magical in a way.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Leonardo Nam (@leonardo_nam)

So as a father and playing a father, do you feel like you brought anything from home to the role?

I think you bring some of you to every role. I’m so lucky that I get to play in a world with the work that I do with such imagination and also so much heart. And one thing I love about this franchise is that they really boil things down to love and family. 

So I felt like, as a father, doing this role was kind of unique. Like I said, my kids are in that right age right now, where I find myself, finding ways of having to really love and celebrate them, and trying to make them feel they belong and that they have a reason and a purpose to live even through the hard times. How to still love and cherish the relationships that you have, and that even though there are things in your life that you may not like or right now seem hard, that it’s not where you stay. It’s not where you’re stuck.

And I think that this movie kind of amplifies that. 

On the flip side, was there anything you brought home from your role? 

Singing was something I never thought I was going to do in my life. I was kicked out of choir. I definitely had that trauma, and when I knew I was going to sing this song… my kids were upstairs while I was rehearsing in this office, and they would always say to me, “What are you doing?” 

Now, after filming it and really facing that fear, looking to transform it through creativity and through the actual work, I came back thinking, hey man, I can do scary things. No matter what, I know I tried my absolute best; I gave it my all, and I’m so glad and grateful that I did, you know? It definitely gave me that sense of like, hey, I can do it even if it scares me; I can do it

There’s a lot of queer icons who played villains in Descendants. Why do you think that is?

First of all, massive, massive, massive fan of the franchise as well. They bring in such quality people, so it feels wonderful to be welcomed into this playground with these greats. And I think a villain can be very theatrical and there can be moments of flamboyance and exaggeration and really, you know, diving into something headfirst.

And I think people, perhaps this is what I resonate with, is that they’ve been an outsider, and they’re finding their way into who they are within this journey. I think that there is a lot that people resonate with, with being an outsider and either the redemption arc or some sort of journey to finding themselves. 

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Leonardo Nam (@leonardo_nam)

Who’s your favorite Disney villain?

That’s a hard one. I mean, I love Ursula; man, it’s a toss-up between her and Scar

Scar is a character that I really took a lot from. I really learned to fall in love again with The Lion King and Scar.

Do you have any message to any LGBTQ Disney fans?

Thank you. I so love being part of this community and in this Disney world. It’s my first entry into it through this franchise. I just absolutely love, love, love being embraced so warmly. And so, if someone else finds some sort of a wonderful kind of being able to see themselves on screen, you know, reflected back to them, I just am so grateful that it can even exist, and I can be a part of that.

You have a pretty great life. Do you have any encouraging words for our readers? 

Everyone has their own journey, and I never thought in my wildest dreams that this is a reality that I would be living in: happily married, I have kids with my husband, and we live in LA, and I’m doing this film. I never thought something like this would happen. 

I am really grateful that I have continued to say yes to myself and continue to show up even when I am afraid to show up anyway. One thing I know that is true is that together we are stronger. So continue to build community, continue to make friends, continue to link arms with friends and even with strangers, because it’s important that you have a community out there, because when things do get hotter, you are able to rely on these friendships. No one is supposed to figure it out on their own, and I’ve been very lucky and blessed to have such wonderful family and friends and a community that I can rely on and have relied on.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Leonardo Nam (@leonardo_nam)

Is there anything else you’re working on? 

I recently started a production company, and it’s called Good On Ya, and it comes from an Aussie saying, you know, when someone slaps you on the back says Good on ya, I got your back you know, and so this is really my way of having my own back and amplifying the voices and the stories that I see that are important. And so does that mean that every story is going to be me in it? No, but it does mean that I get to have a say in how this world is created or what this character does and how that is truthful to what I know. And so I’m really excited about that journey. I have a show in development, and then I have another film called A Vintage Crime, and it’s about the largest wine heist in FBI history, and it’s a true crime. 

You can check out Leonardo’s performance as Maddox Hatter in Descendants: The Rise of Red and see his turn as a villain in Descendants: Wicked Wonderland, and keep up with him on Instagram.

Most people — especially in 2026 — would agree that politics are far too serious to be joked about. Micah O’Konis, co-creator of the NRA-centered musical dark comedy, Good Guy with a Gun, is not one of those people. 

It’s clear in every one of this new musical’s songs; Good Guy with a Gun is set in the starkly divided world we’re currently living in, with viewers being introduced to diehard conservative Ron (Chris Sullivan) and his daughter, the passionate liberal Jenna (Kimiko Glenn). NRA lobbyist Ron wants nothing more than to turn Jenna and every other ‘bleeding heart’ over to his political side — and, luckily (for him at least), he finds something that lets him do just that: a magic gun that turns anyone he shoots into a DEI-hating conservative. 

It’s an endlessly catchy journey filled with as much dark humor as it is astute critiques of modern politics. That’s because Good Guy with a Gun is driven by personal experience, with the creative team researching the devastating impact of American gun laws and O’Konis non-binary identity meaning they’ve experienced unique brands of nastiness from all sides of the political spectrum. 

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Philip Labes (@philiplabes)

Through music and jaw-dropping hilarity, Micah critiques the utter ridiculousness that American politics has largely become. They do so while somehow humanizing both sides of this political divide, all while Good Guy with a Gun makes one thing very clear: it doesn’t matter what political party you are. If your priority isn’t doing the real work of taking care of those in need, then you’re doing something wrong. 

“I think there’s a power in making a joke,” said O’Konis, when describing what led to their melodious takedown of modern politics. “You’re complicating things for people, and you’re showing them that it’s not just one thing. Yes, gun violence is an incredibly serious matter. But there are also serious things that are just so ridiculous that they’re worth laughing at.” That issue in particular is one that O’Konis and their writing partner, Philip Labes, know well; the duo had the idea for Good Guy with a Gun after Labes was held up at gunpoint on his way home. Roommates at the time, Micah was the first one to see the disheveled musician after the incident, who, amidst rambling about his experience, shared an idea: they should make a musical about the NRA. 

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by @goodguymusical

And thus, Good Guy with a Gun was born, with this project being in development for more than a decade before its official premiere on August 14th, 2026. The years of effort show in each song, with this polished album featuring some of Broadway’s biggest voices like Yvette Nicole Brown, Rebecca Naomi Jones, Anthony Rapp, and more. 

“I think the reason why we were able to get such an amazing cast is because this message really resonates with people,” Micah explained. “The show — while it started off just talking about guns — is so much more now. We’re talking about this generational and political divide in America, and we’re using guns as our way into that.”

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Philip Labes (@philiplabes)

Good Guy with a Gun never shirks the realities of how gun violence has deeply hurt the American populace, with Micah explaining how they and the entire creative team worked hard to respect the thousands of people who’ve been hurt by mass shootings. Micah became well-versed in the political actions that make these atrocities possible, learning about the NRA’s flawed beginnings and how its push for guns coupled with discrimination against LGBTQ+, immigrant, and most other marginalized communities. This flawed mindset is analyzed throughout the musical, with songs like ‘N-R-Amen’ showing how the fight against equality has become a national spectacle with millions of rapt audience members. 

Yet amidst this criticism, Good Guy with a Gun does something that may surprise (and infuriate) listeners: it humanizes Ron, a character meant to represent how hardcore conservatives think today. “We’re by no means excusing his beliefs,” stressed O’Konis. “We just wanted to make something that we know from experience resonates with people, and we’re willing to take on the risks that are associated with that.”

Because Good Guy with a Gun not only showcases how the far-right have gilded the political degradation of underserved communities, but it also calls out many liberals for focusing more on correcting others than actually doing the work necessary for societal equity. On that point especially, Micah said, “It’s impossible to get a perfect score in being progressive…I think progressives like myself will do better by lifting up people who are getting a ‘B plus’ [in political correctness] rather than just dunking on people who are getting a C.”

With the humorous allegory of a ‘magic conservative gun,’ Good Guy with a Gun spotlights how, no matter the party, anyone who thinks ripping away someone’s autonomy is okay as long as it makes them right is thoroughly wrong. And in exploring the countless people who think just like that today, this musical both humanizes these folks and calls out how this foolish arrogance has turned American politics into the laughably defunct system it is today. 

“It’s about empathy,” explained O’Konis when discussing the central message of the show. “And that empathy is a practice. It’s something that you have to work at. You can’t get it with a click of a switch or pull of a trigger. You have to do the work to have conversations and understand where people are coming from.”

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by @goodguymusical

Good Guy with a Gun recognizes that it’s easier to see people on a different side of the political spectrum as inhuman — and why nobody, no matter their party, should do that. It doesn’t excuse the pain politics has caused; while the show does call out liberals, it does spotlight that shallow commitment to equality is far different than conservative calls for the oppression of diverse communities. But the show urges listeners to empathize with those who oppose them and use that understanding to help them learn what it means to truly keep their loved ones safe. 

Through lyrical humor, Good Guy with a Gun delivers a message of radical empathy. One that it hopes viewers will carry long after the last song has ended, and that could lead to a political system that truly fights for the good of us all.

Good Guy with a Gun streams August 14th.

The 2026 World Pride March was held on Saturday, Aug. 8 in Amsterdam. Tens of thousands of participants marched from Martin Luther Kingpark to the grounds of the Pride Village at Museumplein.

(Blade photos by Michael Key)

View on Threads

View on Threads

View on Threads

One week after Jason DePuy (known as Salina EsTitties on RuPaul’s Drag Race) was bullied and eventually evicted from CBS’s Big Brother house, the queer drag performer is still emotionally processing his feelings.

During his 24 days in the reality TV competition, De Puy often had a rough time, with fellow cast member Kamuela “Kamu” Kirk making homophobic comments and feeling isolated.

In a conversation with Head of Household Rick Devens, Kirk left viewers upset when he said, “Bro, miss me with the drag stuff. Miss me. I’m still an MMA guy, and I have an image to uphold.”

Former Big Brother contestant Frankie Grande called his words  ‘homophobic’ and ‘gross.’ Another comment, where Kirk said he wanted to end DePuy’s career, also received strong backlash online.

Now that he is out of the house, DePuy has been shocked and deeply touched by the love from Big Brother fans and former contestants. We chatted with DePuy for this Blade exclusive.

“To know that my community was rallying for me outside the house was the most wonderful thing. Seeing how much people were just wanting to shower me with love was incredible. Even my friends, I went to say hi and give them a hug, and they’re like, ‘Uh, uh, come here.’ They had to hold me and let me know America was feeling for me in a way that I had no idea.”

He added: “To see that reality was just overwhelming, and I couldn’t ask for more.”

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by CBS Big Brother (@bigbrothercbs)

Known as a messy player in the house, DePuy often had to fight to stay positive and stand up for himself. 

“No one was coming to my rescue. In real life, it’s easy to block people, but in the house, I didn’t have that luxury, so I had to find it within myself to learn how to speak up for myself in a way that wasn’t nasty or biting. I didn’t attack anyone personally, which is what I was the most proud of.”

DePuy acknowledged he has had a history of putting his foot in his mouth when it came to certain Drag Race moments, being in the public eye, and making a fool of himself. “I’ve learned my lessons; to see how I handled myself in the Big Brother house was amazing.” 

While DePuy has been sober for 14 and a half years and has a strong spiritual foundation, in the Big Brother house, he often felt like he couldn’t communicate what he was feeling. 

“As a queer person, a person of color, a drag queen, I have to be very careful about how I move. I don’t have the luxury or privilege to just act a certain way or say a certain thing. I have to be very careful; I’m representing me. But who I am is a Latino, a person of recovery, a drag queen, a queer person in the community. I know that there’s a lot of pressure that comes with that. I felt it was safer for me to sit there and just breathe than try to do anything crazy.”

He continued: “I couldn’t speak to the personal attack that was happening in the house, because in my mind I was like, ‘no, this is a game, and I have to play it, put that aside.’” 

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Julie Chen Moonves (@juliechenmoonves)

Not only can viewers watch the episodes, but they can also watch the live feeds of what’s happening. Seeing the fans’ social media posts from people who had watched the episodes and the live feeds also contributed to DePuy realizing that his feelings of discomfort were valid.

“To know that I wasn’t delusional in those moments, that others could see what was happening, has been a lot to take in. Fans and friends let me know the comments made went beyond the game…I’m like, ‘Oh, so my instincts were correct.”

One of the most poignant moments on the live feeds occurred when DePuy was crying, alone in his room, and said how he missed his gay community.

“I really missed my friends. I missed my queer community. We’re so colorful. We’re so loud. We’re so vibrant. We speak off the cuff, and we’re very truthful and honest with how we speak, and it’s fun. We have fun lingo.”

DePuy had to censor his expressions in the house. “Because I can say one thing, but it can mean something different to straight people than it does with my queer brothers and sisters. So, there was a sense of code-switching that I had to do. I had to even put aside some of my queerness in a way sometimes to fit in.”

DePuy was thrilled to be the very first drag queen to ever be cast on the show. 

“I’m honored to have been chosen. There’s a million drag queens out there, and to know that I was a contender to come in the house and not even be in drag was like a wow for me. I’m over here in Hollywood, running around these streets with a wig and heels just to make a dollar to survive, and I have to rely on drag to do that. And then to be offered this opportunity and be given the privilege to say, ‘hey, you don’t have to put on the wig for you to be valuable here,’ is just insane to me.”

Prior to his shows, DePuy has been hustling for 15 years, flipping burgers and doing drag at night.

“That has been my life these past since I was 17. So it’s been a long journey; the opportunity to do this out of drag is a very big blessing. I’m honored and grateful to be the representation of my community.”

If you missed Jason on Big Brother: Unlocked, the episode can be seen on CBS.com. He will be back on the show for the finale.

It’s hard to imagine where LGBTQ+ television would be without Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, the trailblazing reality series that premiered in 2003. 

Each episode of this Emmy-winning show saw a group of gays converge on a struggling man — the titular straight guy — and offer nonstop wit while organizing his endlessly messy life. This program about a group of homosexual helpers took the world by storm, furthering the love of gay television begun by shows like Will and Grace but bringing it into the growing medium of reality TV. Of course, it wasn’t perfect; Queer Eye for the Straight Guy often cast its experts less as multi-faceted queer folks and more as sources of early 2000s gay jokes. But despite these pitfalls, it’s undeniable that the original program explored the realities of being gay in a way audiences had never seen before. It was a monumental piece of LGBTQ+ representation, and its success is largely owed to the man who fought to get this show made: producer David Collins. 

Collins spoke with the LA Blade from his Los Angeles home, where he’s spent the past few years living with his husband and his two daughters. David spoke fondly of his many years in this industry, detailing how it feels to be such a huge part of LGBTQ+ history. He explained, however, that he didn’t initially set out to alter how queer people were seen on television. “I never went out to make gay television,” said the producer. “I went out to tell great stories.”

“I’m a hillbilly from Ohio, and I thought I was going to be an editor,” David laughed, looking back on his career. “I interned at the Cincinnati Film Office, and I showed up to work my very first day, and the film commissioner was like, ‘Get to the airport right now and pick [someone] up. Don’t talk to them.’ Well, I ended up picking up Jodie Foster!” Collins raved about this car ride that changed his life, with the pair becoming friends and Foster pushing him to become a producer who puts their own media out into the world. Eventually, he did just that, and after learning about the wild new genre that was reality TV, he pitched a series to Bravo: Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. 

“I was obsessed with Esquire magazine, and they had five categories: fashion, grooming, interior design, culture, food, and wine. So I gave them each a gay, and the Fab Five were born!” Collins said, describing how viewers quickly fell in love with the concept and earned the program four seasons and an Emmy for Outstanding Reality Program. He spoke about how proud he felt creating a show that centered real gay people, not characters in a story, remembering, “To stand in the middle of Times Square and look up and see this massive billboard with the original Queer Eye guys…it wasn’t even a dream come true, because it wasn’t a dream I had even fathomed.”

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by David Collins (@styletasteandclass)

With his series, people were watching actual gay men and learning the realities of a queer culture that had always been portrayed as a danger to society. Collins tearfully recounted hearing about queer people using the show as a way to connect with their family, saying, “What I’m most proud of that’s come out of Queer Eye [are] the conversations that that series has allowed to have people around their kitchen tables with little boys in Ohio like me who were scared to death that they were going to burn in hell because their pastor was telling them that they were a sinner.”

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by David Collins (@styletasteandclass)

Now, for all of its trailblazing, the program wasn’t wholly positive; the show’s focus on the central ‘straight guy’ meant it rarely delved into the lives of its Fab Five. Collins regretted that lack of depth but understood that earlier audiences weren’t accustomed to such a nuanced look into queerness — that would have to wait til the reboot. 

When Queer Eye came out in 2018, audiences were introduced to not only a new Fab Five, but a whole new format (that didn’t rely on a straight person). Now, the series would assist queer folks and allies alike, spotlighting these individuals as well as the queer experts helping them improve their lives. The show has been applauded for its amazing makeovers, but where it truly stands out is its representation, offering a look into individuals across the country and the struggles — along with the immense joys — of being queer in America today. 

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by David Collins (@styletasteandclass)

Fans were disappointed to hear that Queer Eye would be ending after its tenth season, but David stressed that they wouldn’t have to be sad for long. “What I will say to you is this: hang tight,” he teased. “There’s yet another version of Queer Eye to come, and we’re working on that now.” In the meantime, Collins is continuing his work with new shows like the House of Stassi, a series centered on Vanderpump Rules’ prolific waitress. He’s excited about these new projects, but emphasized that his heart will always belong to Queer Eye for the Straight Guy and all that it continues to do for viewers 19 years after its finale. 

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by David Collins (@styletasteandclass)

“It’s not about your new outfit or your new couch or your new whatever. It’s about your humanity,” said Collins, speaking about the core lesson he hopes people take away from the Queer Eye franchise. “It’s about seeing yourself. It’s about dignity. It’s about how confidence breeds success.”

A valuable message that queer folks can benefit from even more now than they did in 2003. And, while it’s unclear just what lies ahead for this franchise, one thing is for sure: Queer Eye for the Straight Guy helped people everywhere understand the power that exists within our queerness. It’s a truth that has impacted countless pieces of LGBTQ+ television today, and it’s one that Collins promises to keep alive through whatever hit show he creates next. 

‘When Memory Fades’
By Nathaniel Chin, MD
c.2026, St. Martin’s Essentials
$30/422 pages

Mom called you in a panic the other day.

She’d lost her keys and by the time you arrived to help, she’d found them. In the refrigerator.

These kinds of things keep happening, not often but often enough, and you don’t know quite what to worry about. But in the new book “When Memory Fades” by Nathaniel Chin, MD, you’ll learn about the journey ahead, for both of you.

You can’t remember why you walked into a room. You got lost last week, going to the bank. Popular wisdom says that things like that are normal as we age, but Chin says that’s not true – although the answer may not be a worst-case scenario, either. Yes, memory problems could just be signs of stress, dehydration, or lack of sleep – or is it time to see a doctor?

Chin says maybe, yes.

He was working his way through medical residency when his father, a geriatrician in Madison, Wisc., was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Chin, now a geriatrician, was blindsided, but that diagnosis also changed his life.

Here, he writes about the brain, and how Alzheimer’s and dementia are diagnosed, explaining that dementia has many faces and, depending on a doctor’s evaluation, memory problems might be slowed or improved. He shares his father’s illness with readers, but he also writes about his mother, a steadfast, steady caretaker.

Her story reminds reader-guardians to care for themselves, too.

Know how to talk the talk, so that you can have “a more productive” conversation with your doctor. Understand that there’s nothing “normal” about dementia or Alzheimer’s. Know the statistics – African Americans are affected with dementia twice as much as whites – and know how to lower your risks. Learn here what questions to ask, how to break the news to everyone, and any legal matters that will be important soon. And know how to tend to you.

Says Chin, “The best action you can take is to educate yourself… The more you understand, the better equipped you are to make sound judgments.”

Something’s off about Dad, just a lot of little things that don’t add up. When is it time to step in? “When Memory Fades” can help you decide.

Wise, wide-spread, comprehensive, and compassionately helpful, this is a book you can read and then take it to the doctor with your loved one. It’s a book that makes sense when nothing else does, and its biggest feature is that it smoothly transitions from easy-to-grasp science and charts, to gentle coaching for caregivers. Author Nathaniel Chin, MD writes with storytelling, humility, grace, and experience from both sides of the Alzheimer’s/dementia issue, and his words are reassuring but also urgent. Learn, but don’t wait, he says. Know how to safeguard yourself. See your doctor, and don’t fear testing. Watch for signs of depression. And never, ever stop asking for help.

Read those last seven words, and find “When Memory Fades” now. It’s a book to have on your shelf, whether you’re 45 or 95 because, as you’ll see, dementia happens and knowledge is key.

‘Qtopia: A Memoir of Love, Land and Liberation’
2026, University of Wisconsin Press
By Juda Bennett

Duffel packed, the new high school graduate could not fall asleep. “On the night before my departure, I stared at the duffel bag as if it were a body bag. We lived close to Dover, where the dead from Vietnam were shipped.” 

It is 1971, and Charles was leaving home to join a hippie commune in rural Virginia. “I kept imagining bodies fitting into the bag and popping out in the middle of the night,” Juda Bennett writes in his memoir, “Qtopia: A Memoir of Love, Land and Liberation.” During Bennett’s high school years from 1968-1971 some 35,000 U.S. soldiers were killed in the Vietnam War, the vast majority processed at Dover Air Force Base. 

Young Bennett was clueless about what lay ahead but he had a commune’s brochure in his pocket, certain his destiny was not in the military. “My father was a walking recruitment center, and my mother could have worked for the USO. Uncle Sam and the Andrews Sisters had nothing on them.” Inspired to find his way out of suburban Wilmington, Del., he boarded a Greyhound bus to Lexington, Va., and communes yet unknown. “Qtopia” is a serious, sexy and joyous memoir about a young man who knows he’s different in search of chosen family and, over coming decades, his own queer Utopia.

“We are leaving; you don’t need us,” was the popular refrain in the day from the Crosby, Stills & Nash song “Wooden Ships.” Communards like young Charles (going by the moniker C.B. with a full beard covering his handsome, androgynous features) were living it. How far this is from urban queer stories of the ‘70s. For this reason alone, it is marvelous reading about hot naked hippies farming together in the country, living and loving in secluded teepees when everything seemed possible. Novels like “Drop City” by T.C. Boyle (2003) and “Arcadia” (2012) by Lauren Groff set in hippie communes had no gay characters, only free-love for straights. When C.B.’s parents arrive to visit his back-to-the-land commune North Mountain bearing gifts like the orange powder Tang and Frosted Flakes, he “maintained” as the saying went.  “It was a great time for visitors to see how hard we had worked—fields of sorghum swaying in the breeze, acres of vegetables in neat rows with beans, tomatoes and peppers hanging down….I was still thin as a matchstick, but I was a strong and muscular matchstick,” he tells the story of his development. By contrast, he had considered suicide before leaving home; this memoir fills in the pain, too.

There are times when C.B.’s voice as a teen communard with a secret is so authentic and rich, it is like reading fictional stories of American innocents on journeys of their own like J.D. Salinger’s character Holden Caulfield or Demon Copperhead from rural Virginia by Barbara Kingsolver. He tells us there was this guy Mark at North Mountain who had been pressuring him to sleep on the mattress next to his. C.B. was known as the only gay at North Mountain. One of the hippie women warned him Mark is “a square, the biggest downer.” Stepping out of the memoir, C.B. directly addresses the reader about the Mark issue, “I don’t want to write about Mark anymore because he’s not important to my story, and I didn’t even like him.” Got it. Hitchhiking with C.B. is like that, too.

“I got my best ride of the whole hike from a truck driver named TJ….If an eighteen wheeler…is willing to stop for you, it is because the driver wants something from you…I will forever remember this trucker as the most beautiful man I could have had sex with if I weren’t so innocent.”

North Mountain required the hippies work one week a month in Richmond to earn cash for the commune. For C.B., this translated into seven communards living in one small apartment on this cultish mission. It was in a Richmond park where he meets a stranger who would sexually abuse him over a month until C.B. ends it. Furious, the man threatens to shut down the commune if he does not obey. In a state of panic, C.B. attempts suicide by overdosing on every pill he can get his hands on. The memoir takes the reader through the author’s horror by deepening the shadows. What was the specific nature of the abuse?  How did this stranger have credible power to threaten the commune? Entitled “What It’s Like to Die,” the chapter is a skillfully told, expressionistic turning point from an innocent’s hell to salvation at the intentional queer Lavender Hill commune in Central New York. C.B. desperately needed to “find my people.” 

He’s a resilient young man after living in three communes by the time he hit San Francisco. His two gay neighbors on Ashbury Street—Crow and Moonsnake—pressure him to get a new “hippie name.” Walking home from Golden Gate Park he zeroes in on a passing streetcar, “North Judah.” Goodbye “Charles,” Judah will be his new hippie name. Crow and Moonsnake, approve: “If that’s what the Universe called out to you.” If you remember the Sixties…

 “Too often,” Bennett writes, “we think of dropouts as withdrawing from life, but in truth, I think they are in a heightened state of seeking their rightful path and purpose. Nothing stays the same.” Juda Bennett remains a believer to this day, “Always putting my faith in my journey to Utopia”.

(Charles Francis is president of the Mattachine Society of Washington, D.C., and author of “Archive Activism:  Memoir of a ‘Uniquely Nasty’ Journey.”)

Greg Araki may not have been solely responsible for the “New Queer Cinema” movement of the 1990s, but he certainly gave it an edge.

From early low-budget groundbreakers like “The Living End” (1992) through his “Teen Apocalypse Trilogy” (1993-97) and beyond, his films have subverted cinematic tropes with queer characters and themes and co-opted them into his own unique brand of filmic storytelling — extreme, campy, and transgressive – in which his queer characters were usually framed as sexual outlaws, flawed and anti-heroic outsiders who disregard not only sexual conventions, but often the law and the social order itself.

In subsequent decades, he’s continued to bring that same fiercely counter-cultural swagger to a surprisingly diverse array of projects, from the melancholy and critically acclaimed “Mysterious Skin” (2004) to the first-ever Cannes Queer Palm winner “Kaboom” (2010). And though it’s been 12 years since his last feature film release (“White Bird in a Blizzard”), he’s brought his twisted talents under the radar to helm episodes of popular TV shows like “13 Reasons Why,” “Riverdale,” and “Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story.”

Now, he’s back to the big screen with “I Want Your Sex,” a new erotic comedy-thriller that proves he hasn’t lost that edge. In fact, he may have honed it to a sharpness that cuts deeper than ever — and he’s aimed it not only at the moralistic posturing of mainstream attitudes around carnality, but at the thinly veiled high end consumerism that drives the world of avant-garde art.

Structured with a nod to “Sunset Boulevard” – it begins with a shocking “face down in a swimming pool” moment that is then explained in flashback – and flavored with the kind of sexual anarchy that rarely manages to penetrate the cultural mainstream, it’s the quintessentially “L.A.” story of Elliot (Cooper Hoffman), a perennially down on his luck 23-year-old would-be podcaster who manages to land a job as an assistant to multi-media artist Erika Tracy (Olivia Wilde), known as much for her domineering personality as for her highly sexualized (and deliberately provocative) work. At first, he is just one of a small army of fellow assistants tasked with helping prepare for an exhibition of new work at her gallery, which ranges from writing emails and scheduling interviews to chewing gum for a conceptual artwork depicting her vagina; but something about him catches her eye, and he soon finds himself taking on the additional duty of being her sexual plaything. 

It’s strictly a business arrangement, of course, and all under cover of an NDA he signed before ever being hired; she needs the sexual outlet to keep her focused on her work, and he – thanks to his unsatisfying relationship with disinterested girlfriend Minerva (Charlie XCX) and his desire to finally pay his share of rent for the apartment he shares with BFF Apple (Chase Sui Wonders) – is happy to be of service. At first, it all feels like a dream come true, as he crosses his own boundaries to become enmeshed in a Dom/sub dynamic with an older woman on whom he’s long had a crush; she’s the Dom, of course, and he soon discovers he has more than just a mild taste for being submissive. But as things progress, he begins to “catch” the feelings he was never allowed to have, while Erika’s manipulation and humiliation of him starts to cross lines that threaten to undermine his tenuous sexual liberation, simultaneously eroding the comfortable relationships that have kept him feeling grounded, if perennially dIsappointed, up until now. Needless to say, things get progressively twisted, and Elliott finds himself ever more haplessly  exploited as the story winds back to that “swimming pool moment” with all the inevitability of a train wreck experienced in irresistibly delicious slow motion.

Yes, it’s all deliberately “shocking” in the sense that it takes us places – both sexually and psychosexually – that a lot of audiences might never have thought they’d be expected to go. There’s plenty of nudity, the kinky sex is “explicit” in the sense that we have no doubt about the physical logistics of what’s happening even if we don’t see it, and the overall sense of “ethics” is pretty much “who cares?” In today’s world of “purity politics,” that might actually be the most transgressive thing of all about Araki’s film.

It’s not all just thumb to the nose at 21^st century morality, however; nor is it merely a chance to undermine our faith in concepts like “consent” or suggest that inappropriate sexual dynamics in the workplace are anything other than toxic. Erika is most definitely a kind of beautiful monster – all the more because her angle, from the beginning, is all about increasing the value of her “brand” – but to frame her as a villain is missing a crucial point in what is essentially, despite its coy pretense at being a thriller, a coming-of-age story wrapped in a dark and de-romanticized rom-com.

Central to Araki’s story is the oft-cited observation that Gen Z people, having come of age in a time of social isolation in which private indiscretion can frequently lead to public shame, are afraid of sex. Elliot himself discusses this generational trope, yet he exposes himself to betrayal and humiliation anyway – and while that choice may take him down a rocky road, it also takes him on the journey of sexual self-discovery that he’s always wanted to have. Erika facilitates this, however unethically she may go about it, and even makes some discoveries about herself along the way; and despite the fact the journey ends up with police interrogations, tabloid scandal, and reversals of fortune not even she can see coming, the sex itself is never really to blame. After all, it’s only sex.

Maybe that’s the main point of “I Want Your Sex,” if there is one: all the stigma, all the prudish judgments and standards of moral “decency” become absurd in the face of the act itself, which – for most humans, at least – only comes naturally and, when stripped of unnecessary shame, can be a joyful experience, no matter how “kinky” it gets.

In fact, it’s not so much the sexual “deviance” or betrayals that Araki positions as the driving force in his movie, but the pretensions of a commercialized art world in which notoriety, controversy, and even tragedy can boost fame and fortune overnight – something that savvy artists, like Erika (and perhaps Araki himself) understand and exploit without qualm. One can make judgments about that, too, but in the end, isn’t that just part of how capitalism works?

In any case, “I Want Your Sex” doesn’t make judgments about any of it, just observations – with wit, slyness, and a refreshingly sex-positive attitude. Wilde and Hoffman deliver superb performances, as does the entire cast – which, apart from others previously mentioned, includes Mason Gooding as Elliot’s super-gay co-worker, Daveed Diggs as Erika’s haughty business manager, and Margaret Cho and Johnny Knoxville in admirably deadpan roles as a pair of police detectives. Shrewd, sexy, and all in good fun, it might well be the most fun you’ll have at the movies this summer.