As the ever-fashionable Glenn Close walked out in front of the TCL Chinese Theatre sporting a pair of circular shades, sitting down in a chair to block out the sun from her view, she looked a lot like Norma Desmond, the character she brought new dimensions to while starring in Sunset Boulevard on Broadway.

Unlike the famous character she played that lost touch with reality decades after finding success as an actor, Close is one of the rare actors to continue finding success decades after achieving stardom. The eight-time Oscar nominee, who landed her first nomination back in 1983 for The World According to Garp, was surrounded by her family, including her granddaughter, and a very well-behaved white dog that accompanied her on stage. Many of her close collaborators were also in attendance, including Melissa McCarthy and Hunger Games: Sunrise on the Reaping director Frances Lawrence.

The crowd, which included select press and TCM passholders, hung on Close’s words as she reflected on the kind of career most aspiring actors dream of. This was the kind of event the TCM Classic Film Festival does best — not just the yearly Hand & Footprint Ceremony where stars get their hands and feet imprinted by the TCL Chinese Theatre, but the daily programming that connects passionate film fans with the female icons they grew up watching and idolizing. It was a true celebration of both past and present. Where else can classic movie fans not only see an icon like Close receive their dues, but share that moment with the actor’s loved ones?

Close’s ceremony was just the beginning of the action. The festival also gave attendees the chance to hear Carol Burnett and Barbara Hershey speak in dedicated one-hour Q&As; Faye Dunaway, Laura Dern, Sharon Stone, Julia Sweeney, Lorna Luft and Lesley Ann Warren all presented different screenings throughout the four-day festival in Los Angeles (read The Blade’s coverage of Warren’s talk before Victor/Victoria here), while Close herself presented a screening of 1988’s Dangerous Liaisons.

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The line just to get into Burnett’s conversation was the longest I saw at this year’s festival, quite literally spiraling around the lobby of the historic Roosevelt Hotel to the point where people couldn’t locate where it even ended. The crowd immediately took to their knees once Burnett walked into the room. In a conversation with TCM host Ben Mankiewicz, the seven-time Emmy winner looked back on the origins of her TV career and the women who mentored her.

Burnett would go on to make history as the first woman to host a variety show with The Carol Burnett Show, which ran on CBS from 1967 to 1978. One of the most surprising bits of her conversation was her freeing experience working with studio executives.

“When we got our show, [William S. Paley] said to us, ‘You’re the artist, I’m the businessman. You do what I do, I’ll do what I do. Go do your thing. If it’s not working, I’ll be in touch,’” Burnett recalled. “We never had a sponsor bothering us, or the network bothering us,” adding that the writers’ room was free of outside influence. In today’s media landscape, such a story is unheard of.

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Beyond these incredible stories shared by beloved actors, the festival was also an opportunity for different generations to connect through their shared love of film. As a young queer person myself, I’ve noticed how TCM can sometimes be unfairly labeled as a network solely for older people. While the festival’s attendees certainly skew older, the wide variety of female stars drew in multiple different generations; from the women who grew up on Burnett’s variety show in the ‘60s and the ‘70s, to today’s young audiences — mainly gay men! — who fell in love with Laura Dern through more recent hits like Big Little Lies and Marriage Story.

That’s part of what makes the festival so wonderful: the opportunity to connect with all different kinds of people while waiting in line for screenings and panels, and reflecting on how everyone came across a piece of media at a different point in their life. As a queer person, many of these actors resonate with me in a completely different way than they might for older women who grew up seeing a female comedian like Burnett pave the way for more representation.

The opportunity to see living legends in person hits even harder after the recent passing of Catherine O’Hara, Diane Keaton, and Rob Reiner. This theme of crossing generations and passing the baton down couldn’t have been made clearer than the way Mankiewicz chose to close his conversation with Burnett, who reminisced on how I Love Lucy star Lucille Ball became a crucial mentor and friend before her death in 1989.

“I’m listening to you with Amy Poehler and the way she talked about you … the way Tina Fey feels about you,” Mankiewicz said. “To that generation of these brilliantly funny women — and plenty of men, too — you’re Lucille.”

It was impossible to leave that room without thinking about Burnett’s signature line: “I’m so glad we had this time together.”

In 2024, when Richard Gadd’s “Baby Reindeer” became a stock-boosting hit for Netflix, there were few Americans who knew his name.

In the UK, however, the Scottish writer/comedian/actor had already emerged as a talent to be reckoned with, blending autobiographical stand-up comedy with theater to create a reputation as an edgy and provocative creator whose shows tended to be equal parts divisive and successful. One of these, his fictionalized true-life story of being stalked and sexually harassed by a female fan, became an Olivier Award-winning hit in the London theater; that was “Baby Reindeer,” and – in the form of a seven-episode miniseries adaptation – it became the vehicle that carried him to wider fame.

Two years later, Gadd has returned with another high-profile miniseries, this time for HBO Max, and like its predecessor, it’s a story that deals with queer sexual repression, unhealthy attachments, and a central relationship that can safely be described without exaggeration as “toxic” – and it’s an even darker (and more twisted) ride that stretches across decades. 

“Half Man,” which debuted on April 23 and continues with one episode per week through May 14, is the story of two “brothers” – Niall (Jamie Bell) and Ruben (Gadd) – whose mothers (Neve McIntosh and Marianne McIvor) have become a lesbian couple after leaving their relationships with the boys’ respective fathers. They are seeming opposites in personality; Niall is quiet, sensitive, and secretly unsure about his sexuality, while Ruben is tough, rebellious, and prone to violence – and unsurprisingly, it’s a match made in hell.

We meet them at the top of the first episode as adults, on the day of Niall’s wedding, when Ruben shows up without warning; his appearance triggers what looks like fear in his “brother from another lover,” and a private meeting between them in a barn at the wedding site turns ugly, launching a flashback format that takes us back to their schooldays, when young Ruben (Stuart Campbell) – already in trouble with the law and trying for a new start – comes home from juvenile detention to become roommate, protector, and bully to young Niall (Mitchell Robertson), all in one.

It’s the dawn of a new and epic relationship, despite a history that has made Niall terrified of the older boy; their seemingly opposite qualities somehow mesh into a kind of symbiotic bubble, in which a tense equilibrium turns them into unlikely allies. Ruben makes sure Niall has nothing to fear from the sniggering schoolyard homophobes who target him, and Niall helps Ruben pass the tests he needs to pass in order to stay in school, Nevertheless, their dynamic is equal parts surprisingly tender and alarmingly lopsided. Though they form a bond, it’s a volatile one, and by the end of episode one – after an uncomfortable-to-watch late night incident that amounts to a sexual assault – there is little doubt that Ruben is a psychopath. By then, however, it’s too late; Niall has become hopelessly ensnared by his manipulations, and their dangerous attachment has taken permanent root.

In episode two, the timeline moves the past forward several years (while rolling the wedding-day story back a few hours as well), bringing Niall forward to his college years. Ruben is once again absent from his life, but the bond is still deep. He struggles to make connections in his new setting – including with another student, the openly gay Alby (Bilal Hasna), who recognizes a side of him that he has still yet to accept for himself. Though he gradually begins to adapt to his new social circle, his insecurities get the better of him – and despite warnings from his mother not to do so, he calls Ruben to come and visit. His arrival triggers another escalating series of incidents, this time entangling Niall’s new friends and culminating in a shocking, jealous-fueled explosion of violence.

Without going on with the story – after all, the two remaining episodes have yet to be released, so we wouldn’t want to spoil anything – it’s safe to say there’s a pattern here, and it’s intentional.

Gadd has already been public about his own struggles with repression, which were directly explored (albeit fictionally) in “Baby Reindeer,” and it’s clear that he had more to say about the effects they had on his life and identity.

As he put it himself, in an interview with the Hollywood Reporter, “Themes of, I guess, masculinity, or what it means to be a man, or ‘I’ve gone through a masculinity crisis’ come into [the show] probably because I’ve been through that in my life, and I feel I can write to it and speak to it.

“I always think that the best kind of art is kept close to your chest, kept close to your heart, kept close to your experiences, and I guess with ‘Half Man,’ there’s a lot in it that I relate to. It’s not an autobiographical piece by any stretch, it’s purely fiction, but it certainly borrows from themes and struggles and issues that I understand.”

That understanding translates to the series through its focus on tracing the roots of Niall and Ruben’s relationship by methodically tracking the cause-and-effect chain that links the major events of their lives together. It explores the contradictory combination of worship and terror, the transgressive eroticism that intertwines danger and desire, the power of the forbidden to make us want it more, and the self-loathing that punishes itself through violence toward others. The inverted framework of the storytelling, which works both forward and back to meet at (we assume) some definitive point, makes following it a bit like putting together a puzzle, which also has the effect of building suspense as we wait to see the “moment of truth.”

Of course, those who prefer a more straightforward narrative might not appreciate the additional challenge, especially when the subject matter – which revolves around experiences, feelings, and behavior that might be entirely unfamiliar to many audiences – is challenging enough by itself, in its own way. Likewise, and for much the same reason, there will be viewers who are unable to relate to its characters, as some of the show’s less-favorable reviews have pointed out.

But it would be naive to assume that the themes in “Half Man” – of fragile masculinity, internalized homophobia, misdirected rage, nihilistic rebellion, conflicted desires, projected shame, and the other ingredients that infuse this shadow-boxing psychodrama with such a distinctive musky odor – do not apply to more men in today’s culture of incels, “looksmaxxers,” and “the Man-o-sphere” than any of them would like to admit. We’d wager that its portrait of a same-sex, sub/Dom, borderline incestuous relationship might resonate more urgently there than within a queer community that has been grappling with those issues for generations already and are just waiting for everybody else to catch up.

In any case, Gadd’s newest variation on a theme is a solidly crafted, well-acted, and hypnotically fascinating (if sometimes uncomfortable) exercise in the kind of “can’t look away” drama that makes for a perfect binge watch. Or, at least, it will once all the episodes drop.

Uncloseted Media published this story on May 7.

By SPENCER MACNAUGHTON | In 2025, the global cannabis market size was valued at nearly $103 billion. By 2034, that number is expected to explode by roughly 1,400 percent to more than $1.43 trillion.

In short, as an increasing number of countries legalize marijuana use, everyone is starting to consume a lot more weed. And LGBTQ+ people tend to use cannabis at much higher rates than the general population. One study found that 55 percent of lesbian and 45 percent of gay young adults use marijuana, compared to about 33 percent and 37 percent, respectively, of their straight counterparts.

As LGBTQ+ people face a mental health crisis, the mainstream stereotypes that depict weed as an antidote for anxiety, panic and depression aren’t painting the full picture. And that could be exacerbating the mental health struggles so many queer people, and especially youth, face.

Here’s what the research demonstrates about marijuana and its effects on mental health:

• Multiple studies suggest a link between marijuana use and an increased risk of mental health disorders, including schizophrenia, depression and anxiety in individuals who are genetically predisposed.
• One study found that daily marijuana use, especially among younger people, makes some individuals seven times more likely to develop psychosis.

The increase in higher-potency strains of marijuana could pose unknown risks. In 1995, the average content of Tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) in confiscated marijuana was less than 4 percent. In 2022, it was more than 16 percent. Researchers don’t know the full extent of the impact that these higher concentrations can have on mental health and especially on younger people whose brains are still developing.

• A systematic review of studies published between 2013 and 2025 found damning results for the mental health of young cannabis users:

They were 51 percent more likely to experience depression, 58 percent more likely to experience anxiety, between 50 and 65 percent more likely to experience suicidal ideation and 80 to 87 percent more likely to have attempted suicide.

• While the above stats paint a grim picture, there is also some research that suggests benefits of cannabis use:
  • A 2025 systematic review found that “medicinal” weed showed some efficacy in relieving withdrawal symptoms of opioid use disorder. THC use has been associated with improvement of post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms, bipolar symptoms and sleep quality.
  • Other studies found that THC administered in a controlled setting was associated with a decrease of symptoms and adverse effects for a range of mental health disorders, including schizophrenia, psychotic symptoms, and anorexia nervosa.

Beyond what we pulled from academia, there is an astounding lack of information about the interplay between weed and mental health. As we dive deeper into Mental Health Awareness Month, I hope advocacy organizations, influencers and news outlets ramp up their coverage of this important topic that affects the countless LGBTQ+ weed smokers, many of whom are already struggling.

When Lesley Ann Warren first watched a cut of the campy musical comedy Victor/Victoria, in which she plays Norma Cassidy, the extravagant showgirl known for shouting “Pookie!”, she thought she’d never land a part again.

“I was so shocked to see myself that way, and I went home, and I cried, for a long time, I thought my career is over. It’s just over!” Warren said before a packed Saturday, May 2 screening of Victor/Victoria at the TCM Classic Film Festival in Hollywood, California, moderated by TCM’s Dave Karger. “So I never thought about [an Oscar nomination].”

Directed by Blake Edwards (Breakfast at Tiffany’s), the film stars Julie Andrews as Victoria Grant, a down-on-her-luck performer who meets an older gay man (played by Robert Preston) and winds up posing as a man impersonating a woman on stage. As her artistic career takes off, though, so does her romantic one, as the insecure gangster King Marchand (played by James Garner), who starts off in a relationship with Norma, begins wondering if his attraction to Victoria (or Victor, as she’s known to the outside world) makes him gay. Following the 1982 film, Victor/Victoria was adapted into a 1995 Broadway musical; Andrews was the only part of the production to be Tony-nominated (she famously declined the recognition.)

In 1983, Warren would go on to receive an Oscar nomination in the supporting actress category; Andrews and Preston also earned acting nominations, and the film was recognized for adapted screenplay, production design, and costume design, even winning for its music. Warren’s nomination was surprising because the Academy rarely values comedic, over-the-top performances.

“I honestly didn’t even keep track. I knew that MGM was doing this incredible campaign for me, but I wasn’t a part of it because I was working [on A Night in Heaven], and different times,” Warren recalls, explaining she found out about the nomination after producer Joel Silver called her early in the morning. “It was an out-of-body experience. They had to stop filming that day — all these outlets like Entertainment Tonight flew in to see my reaction … It was thrilling.”

Even more so than the Academy’s recognition in 1983, Warren’s status as a queer icon who resonates deeply with LGBTQ+ audiences has stuck with her, mainly for her work in Victor/Victoria, Cinderella, and, of course, cult favorite Clue. When asked about what that status means to her, Warren expressed strong enthusiasm for her queer fans.

“I wouldn’t say it’s a surprise, I’m thrilled because I love them,” Warren said. “Especially Clue and Victor/Victoria, there’s such larger-than-life women in a way, and that’s really part of the appeal. But I was telling you backstage, I have gotten incredible responses from many people, but two specific people who happen to be brilliant directors.”

Warren said she heard this feedback from openly queer filmmakers Rob Marshall, who went on to direct Chicago and Into the Woods, and Lee Daniels, who helmed The Butler and Precious. “The pain that Cinderella went through and the ostracizing, [Daniels] felt as a child,” she recalled. “He said he used to sit in the corner of his bedroom and sing ‘In My Own Little Corner,’ and it gave him comfort.”

It didn’t take Warren nabbing the Oscar nomination, or the queer community’s love and admiration, for her to come around on her performance in Victor/Victoria, though: everything clicked at the film’s premiere. “I heard and saw the reaction of the people in the flesh, in the moment, and I thought, ‘Oh, I’m going to be OK!’”

Based on the contagious, uproarious laughter that could be heard across the entire TCL Chinese Theatre on Saturday night, Warren’s campy-as-hell performance in Victor/Victoria continues to steal the show nearly 45 years later.

With all the devastating anti-LGBTQ news that we have to report on every week, it is always nice to have an excuse to take a breath, celebrate fellowship, and remember that queer joy is a very real thing. The Los Angeles Blade was invited by the Abbey this last weekend to join in the festivities for Andy Santiago’s Sunday Service drag brunch, with a special appearance by Bravo’s Real Housewives of New York City personality Sonja Morgan.

Now, being a certified Bravophile, there was no way I was missing an appearance from one of my favorite reality TV divas. While Sonja didn’t join the show until its third season, she is always considered one of the franchise’s formidable personalities. We’ve been through it all with Sonja – the good, and the so bad it’s good TV moments. (Side note: I have met her show co-star Ramona Singer during one of her West Coast appearances…it wasn’t as fun…by a long shot.) Above Sonja’s goodheartedly crazy antics on the show, she has remained a staunch LGBTQ ally, even before the cameras showed up.

The weather was overcast, but the day was shining bright as Sonja entered to thunderous applause and fan clacking from the packed Abbey. Wearing a rhinestone crown, it was clear that the Queen had entered the building (flashback to Madonna’s visit to the Abbey the weekend before). Yes, there are many queens who come to The Abbey.

As a fun bonus, Below Deck Mediterranean’s Captain Sandy and wife Leah Rae Yawn joined the fun, as well as entertainment host, podcaster, and Andy Cohen’s right-hand gal, Daryn Carp. MISTR models in tinier than tiny undies flanked Sonja and her crew, and Misty Violet took to the stage hosting with HBO’s Legendary divas Becky Peach and Calypso Jete, with fun Housewife-remixed performances by Annie Biotixx. Sonja’s infamous tooth-popping-out moment was revisited…IYKYN.

The Brunch even had a fun stop by from the TMZ touring bus. Of course, Sonja had to entertain the tourists.

The day was a much-needed Sunday Funday addition, remembering that even among the chaos of queer politics and activist fatigue, we can still let loose a bit and enjoy some unfiltered time with our local queer community and allies.

Every table was occupied to the brim, and placed close together to allow for the full crowd. Drinks and laughs were flowing from table to table, and friendships were quickly made (even if just for the Brunch) in this varied crowd. This was a party that didn’t care who showed up, just that you did show up.

Diversity and queer joy were alive and well.

Writing about the reign of Nicole Murray Ramirez and the close leadership of King Father Terry Sidie requires far more than listing achievements, because what has been built over these years cannot be reduced to titles, ceremonies, or public recognition. It must be understood as the result of a sustained vision rooted in service, memory, solidarity, and the real ability to build bridges within and beyond the LGBTQ+ community.

At this point, looking back and assessing this period means acknowledging that this was not just another chapter in the history of the International Imperial Court System. It was a time shaped by far-reaching initiatives, a clear commitment to concrete causes, and a style of leadership that moved confidently between symbolic representation and public action. In that context, Nicole Murray Ramirez’s announcement that her reign will conclude in February 2027, along with the coronation of the person who will assume the throne as the new Queen Mother of the Americas, should not be read simply as the end of an era, but as a moment to fully recognize what has been built while also understanding that a new chapter is about to begin.

One of the most defining aspects of this reign has been its understanding that visibility alone is not enough. Visibility matters, but it only becomes meaningful when it leads to action, support, and measurable change. That has been a consistent strength of the work led by Nicole Murray Ramirez alongside key figures such as Terry Sidie.

The Jose Nicole Terry Scholarship and Educational Fund reflects that commitment. Reaching $400,000 is significant, but what matters most is what that represents in terms of opportunity and access.

This leadership also prioritized historical memory through initiatives like the National LGBTQ Wall of Honor at the Stonewall Inn and the recognition of Jose Julio Sarria.

Efforts such as the Harvey Milk postage stamp, the USNS Harvey Milk, and multiple recognitions for Sarria reflect a sustained commitment to public recognition and justice.

International outreach, financial support to global causes, advocacy for transgender communities, and engagement with organizations beyond national borders further define this period.

The expansion into Canada and the opening of a new chapter that includes Puerto Rico highlight the evolving nature of this leadership. The upcoming June coronation marks an important step in that direction.

Acknowledging that the reign was not perfect does not weaken its legacy. It reinforces its authenticity.

This was not an individual effort. It was collective work supported by a broad network.

As the transition toward Feb. 5, 2027, continues, what remains is a legacy built on action, commitment, and responsibility.

Books about Fashion and Style
By various authors
c.2026, various publishers
$19.95 – $29.95

Don’t look now, but your legs are showing.

It’s OK, it’s almost summertime and you want to show both skin and style. So how about a few hints for looking your best? Check out these great books and get stylin’.

Who says there are rules about fashion? Wearing white before Memorial Day is OK; socks with sandals not so much? Fine, but in “Bending the Rules: Fashion Beyond the Binary” by Camille Benda with Gwyn Conaway (Princeton Architectural Press, $29.95), you’ll see that any guidelines that hint about gendering clothing are oh-so-last century.
Along with lively, fun narrative, there are lots of photos in this book, ads for how clothing used to be worn along male-female lines, and short biographies of some of today’s best designers. Here, you can check out prom dresses from the 1950s and new haute couture gowns practically right off the runway – and see how one parallels with the other. The timeline reaches back centuries, so you get a nice idea of where certain kinds of clothing originated and how it’s relevant today – making what’s inside here perfect for browsing.

Pick up this book, in fact, and you might also pick up some ideas for filling your closet and creating your very own style.

The fashion you wear on your body isn’t all you’ll find in “Pretend to Be Fancy: A Field Guide to Style and Sophistication” by Whitney Marston Pierce (Chronicle Books, $19.95). You’ll also read about other nice things you can have.

So you’re not a pinky-in-the-air kind of person, whatever. You can easily hang with those who are, once you read and absorb this book.

Tongue-tied at fancy soirees? Not anymore, there are tips for talking here. What do you know about canapes, hors d’oeuvres, and the kind of foods you don’t get at the corner c-store? How do you make a charcuterie that everyone will Ooooooh over? And how do you give a gift for the person whose taste seems scads better than yours? That’s all in here, along with what to drink, how to dress, and how to make every corner of your home look like something right out of a high-end magazine.

Will this book make you chic? Possibly, yes. Will it help you get invited to all the best parties? Maybe, but for sure, it’ll make you laugh, it’ll make you feel fabulous, look fabulous, and live your best life with the surroundings you deserve. Out May 5, so put it on your list.

But let’s say you need more ideas. You have questions or thorny issues with fashion that you really need answering. That’s when you ask for a talented fashionista at your local bookstore or library, that knowledgeable someone knows books and knows how to get what you need to be your most dazzling, best-dressed, finest-appointed self in a home you can be proud of, with comfortable furniture that will be the envy of everyone who sees it.

In the meantime, grab the above titles, because these books got legs.

Go-go dancers offer a spicy jolt to nightlife. Their hot bodies and high-energy dancing inspire and titillate us, helping to make every night extra special. Steven Dehler has not only done that for the last decade in West Hollywood and Palm Springs, but he’s brought this same energy to the world of dance, fitness, and modeling. 

You may have seen him at The Abbey or Beaches Tropicana, and he was even crowned this year’s Go-Go of the Year at the Los Angeles Blade’s Best of LA awards show.  He’s an accomplished model for various fitness and underwear brands, as well as starring in fashion, editorials, print, runway, and appearing on romance novel covers.

 Beyond the go-go box, he’s an accomplished musician and pianist. He has performed on stage for Voss Events burlesque shows, and you can see him on stage in Beauty of Burlesque at the historic Old Globe Theatre in Downtown LA. He’s worked in film and television, appearing on Ellen, Jimmy Kimmel Live!, and Will & Grace.

He also co-hosts the podcast, On the Rocks, with the Blade’s own Alexander Rodriguez. He’s set to formally join the LA Blade family offering his physical prowess and fitness know-how to LA Blade readers in an upcoming Health and Fitness column for the Blade. 

He took some time out to share his history, hot takes, and thoughts from both on and offstage for a look behind the g-string and into his life. 

How long have you been performing?

I’ve been dancing for about thirteen years. 

How did you get into go-go dancing?

I was already working in the clubs doing bottle service and wasn’t making particularly good money. The person I was dating at the time go-go danced,, and I saw how much money he was making and how much fun he was having so I started dancing with him.

What do you do besides dancing?

What don’t I do? Haha, God, I dip my feet in everything I can, and I’m discovering new ponds constantly. I’m a classically trained pianist, so I always try to incorporate that into my life. In the last few years, I’ve gotten into burlesque, which has been so gratifying, especially learning choreography. I’m not a trained dancer, and I’m pushing 40, so I’m getting into something at an age most dancers are retiring. I cohost a popular podcast called On the Rocks. And besides that, I’ve modeled for 20 years and acted as well. 

What do you love about gogo dancing? And nightlife in LA?

I just love to dance. And as someone who’s introverted, I never thought I’d be on stage in my underwear entertaining people. But here I am!

What do you think has changed about nightlife?

That’s a heavy question. So much has changed about nightlife. I’d say the 2010s were really the renaissance of nightlife, and that’s when I appeared on the scene. Since COVID and changes in dynamics with alcohol and Gen Z, nightlife is struggling. Clubs and bars are closing left and right, and many are hemorrhaging money. It’s depressing seeing all the empty businesses in West Hollywood. It’s not good nowadays in LA compared to a decade ago. 

What do you love about Los Angeles?

I love LA. I was born in Simi Valley, so I’ve been LA-adjacent since birth. It’s rare for locals to stick around,, haha. This town is really difficult, but it’s full of such amazing people. If you’re true to yourself you’ll find your people here. I’m always meeting new and beautiful people. 

What brought you to LA, specifically?

I always thought I’d do great things in LA, and I’m not satisfied until I achieve them. 

What is your passion?

Piano is my absolute passion. Music is always evolving, and there are always things for me to learn. I just recently learned a piece from a video game (my other passion) called “Expedition 33.” I’m a big gamer, so I play Super Mario music, Zelda, and Final Fantasy. Y’all do not realize how talented the musicians are who create the soundtracks to these games. 

What’s an interesting thing you learned about life from dancing?

I don’t think I realized how socially awkward the general public is. I’ve had people come up to me and just not speak when they wanted to. I experience so many awkward moments with people, but we make them fun and normal, and I think people appreciate that we dancers make them feel okay about who they are. 

Favorite spot in Los Angeles?

I love Malibu. El Matador is my favorite spot ever. It’s gorgeous and secluded. I’ve done many photo shoots there. 

How has Los Angeles changed you?

Los Angeles has made me more confident. You have to be sure of yourself here. It really can suck you in and spit you out, and if you don’t have a strong sense of self then it can devour you. It’s strengthened me in ways I didn’t think I needed. Never jaded though! Take the lessons and rise above them! ,

What piece of advice would you give to your younger self?

I’d tell my younger self to work out my legs more LOL. I played soccer for 14 years, so when I started dancing, I was really top-heavy. I only worked out my upper body, and I did a disservice to myself by not working on my legs. 

If you could make one wish for Los Angeles what would it be?

My one wish for Los Angeles would be to get rid of the smog! 

What do you want for the queer community? 

I want the queer community to come together more. This whole LGB without the T is so disgusting to me, and becoming more prevalent. There are a lot of people in our community who are just uneducated about the fact that our trans brothers and sisters are being targeted across the globe. We’ve got to be better about protecting them. 

What do you look for in a person?

I look for humor. If we can laugh every day, then I’m happy.

Celebrity crush?

Honestly, I’m not crushing on any celebrities right now. Bored.

What is your favorite thing to do in your downtime?

My favorite thing is playing video games. I’m such a huge gay-mer. My dad introduced me to games when I was like five, playing the original DOOM. 

What are your goals for the future? 

My goal for the future is to continue to do what I love. It’s not easy. What you want to do doesn’t necessarily provide you a living, but you gotta do what you love in some aspect. So as long as I’m still doing what I love, I’ll be happy. 

Are you excited about your new column with the LA Blade? 

Absolutely! I’ve been working out for 20 years, and I’m a certified trainer and bodybuilding specialist, so I’m very excited to share my knowledge and advice with readers.

Keep an eye out for Dehler around town and in the pages of the Blade very soon. Follow him on Instagram and listen to him on the On the Rocks Podcast every week.  

Submit your fitness or health questions to Steven here!

“Would we have fashion without gay people? Forgive me, would we have anything?”

Those words, spoken by Miranda Priestley herself (actually by Meryl Streep, the 76-year-old acting icon who played her), may well sum up why “The Devil Wears Prada” has been a touchstone for queer audiences for two decades now.

Streep, who returns to big screens this weekend in the sequel to director David Frankel’s beloved 2006 classic (succinctly titled “The Devil Wears Prada 2”), expressed this nugget of allyship in a recent interview with Out magazine, promoting the new film’s upcoming release. It would be hard, as a member of the queer community, to disagree with her assessment. The world of fashion has always been inextricably linked with queer culture, and the whims of taste that drive it are so frequently shaped by queer men – and women, too – who have adopted it as a means of expressing their sense of identity from the very first time they thumbed through a copy of Vogue.

At the same time, the notion that “Prada” has been claimed by the community as “canon” simply because of the stereotypical idea that “gay people love fashion” feels like a lazy generalization. After all, fashion is about discernment – about knowing, if you will, whether a sweater is simply blue or if it is cerulean, and, importantly, understanding why it matters – and just because something ticks off a few basic boxes, that doesn’t mean it qualifies as “haute couture.”

So yes, the setting of the “Devil Wears Prada” universe in what might be called “ground zero” of the fashion industry plays a part in piquing queer interest, but to assume our obsession with it is explained as simply as that is, frankly, insulting. The fashion angle catches our interest, but it’s the story – and, more to the point, the central characters (all of which return in the sequel) – that reels us in.

First, there’s the ostensible heroine, Anne Hathaway’s Andrea (or rather, Andy) Sachs, who falls into the world of fashion almost by accident. She’s a recent college grad who wants to be a journalist, to write for a publication that operates on a less-superficial level than Runway magazine, but fate (for lack of a better word) places her in the job that “a million girls” would kill to have – assistant to Streep’s Miranda Priestly (based on Vogue editor Anna Wintour), who can determine an entire season’s fashion trends merely by pursing her lips. She’s idealistic, and dismissive of fashion in the overall scheme of human existence; she’s also stuck with a truly terrible boyfriend (Nate, played by Adrian Grenier) and trying to live up to the self-imposed expectations and ideals that have been foisted upon her since birth.

It’s clear from the start that none of this “fits” her particularly well. More significantly, the natural grace with which she blossoms, from “sad girl” fashion-victim to the epitome of effortless style, tells us that she was meant to be exactly where she is, all along.

Then, of course, there is Nigel (Stanley Tucci), the ever-loyal art director and “Gay Best Friend” that’s always there to provide just the right saving touch for both Miranda and Andy, helping to boost the former while gifting the latter with his own insight, “tough love,” and impeccable taste. Never mind that he’s a queer character played by a straight actor – Tucci avoids stereotype and performative flamboyance by simply playing it with pure, universally relatable authenticity – or that he ends up, at the end of the original film, betrayed by his goddess yet deferring his own dream to double down on his commitment to hers. Anyone who has ever been a gay man in the orbit of a remarkable woman knows exactly how he feels. Of course, they also probably know the precarious life of being a queer person in the workplace – something that carries its own set of compromises, disappointments, and determinations to go above-and-beyond just to make oneself invaluable to the powers that be.

Which brings us to Emily (Emily Blunt), the cutthroat “first assistant” who does her level best to keep Andy in her place, who goes to extremes (“I’m just one stomach flu away from my goal weight”) to be the “favorite” no matter how much cruelty she has to unleash on those who threaten her status. Some see her as merely an obstacle in the way of Andy’s rise to success, an antagonist whose efforts to embody the “no mercy” persona of an ascendent girl boss only expose her own mediocrity. But for many, she’s just another victim doomed to fail and fall while watching others rise to the top. Queer, straight, or in-between, who among us hasn’t been there?

Finally, of course, there is Streep’s Miranda Priestley, the presumed “devil” of the title and the epitome of mercilessly autocratic authority, who has earned her status and her power by embracing the toxic modus operandiof a misogynistic hierarchy in order to conquer it. Yes, she’s more than just a little horrible, a strict gatekeeper who hones in on perceived weaknesses with all the vicious premeditation of a hawk with its eyes on a luckless rabbit, and it would be easy to despise her if she weren’t so damn fabulous. But thanks to the incomparable Oscar-nominated performance from Streep – along with the glimpses we are afforded into her “real” life along the way – she is not just aspirational, but iconic. Stoic, imperturbable, always three steps ahead and never affording an inch of slack for any perceived shortcoming, there’s an undeniable excellence about her that inspires us to see beyond the obvious dysfunction of the “work ethic” she represents; and sure, there’s enough emotionally detached enthusiasm in her torment/training of Andy to fuel countless volumes of erotic lesbian fan-fiction (Google “MirAndy,” if you dare), but when we eventually recognize that she might just be the ultimate “fashion victim” of them all, it doesn’t just cut us to the core – it strikes a chord that should be universally recognizable to anyone who has had to make their own “deal with the devil” in order to claim agency in their own lives. In this way, “The Devil Wears Prada” comes closer than probably any mainstream film to tying the feminist and queer rights movements together in common cause.

In any case, each character, in their way, can easily be tied to a facet of queer identity – and indeed, to the identity of anyone who must work twice (or more) as hard as a straight white Christian male to succeed. We can see ourselves reflected in all of them – and whether we aspire to be Miranda (I mean, who wouldn’t?), identify with Andy, recognize our worst traits in Emily, or empathize with Nigel and his deferential suffering, there’s something in “The Devil Wears Prada” that resonates with everyone.

Now let’s see if the sequel can say the same.

In Quentin Lee’s spirited feature film debut, Shopping for Fangs, viewers are shown shards of stories: pieces of narratives that are spliced and, sometimes, hastily shoved together in a way that inspires whiplash, excitement, and unnerving anticipation. We are thrown into a San Gabriel Valley of the late ‘90s and shown its darker underbelly: an image that betrays its tranquil real-life reputation. 

This is not the San Gabriel Valley I grew up in (but perhaps wish I did). It’s an uncanny, noir version of it that draws inspiration from reality and remixes it with style through Lee’s risque, imaginative lens. 

Shopping for Fangs starts at the scene of a crime, where a man has pinned a woman against a wall in the dark. Suddenly, another figure appears, dressed in a sparkly champagne dress, a curly blonde Marilyn Monroe-esque wig, and sunglasses that, we will soon discover, are permanently fixed onto her face. She draws a gun at the man, threatening to “blow his face off,” and her fragment of the film’s story begins. 

The 1997 feature weaves together the lives of several Asian American characters and explores their queerness, their yearning to belong, and the ways that these angsts transform into physical and mental affliction. Phil, a bored and indifferent office worker, begins to grow hair at a rapid rate and act out in all-consuming aggression. His storyline, written by the film’s co-director, Justin Lin of Fast & Furious fame, is a werewolf tale that digs into stereotypes around Asian American masculinity and rejects them with energetic rebellion.

Shopping for Fangs marks the beginning of a 30-year legacy for Lee: one in which he has continually explored what it means to be queer, Asian American, and to navigate stigma, racial identities, and sexual longing in an increasingly tech-centered world through the 90s and early 2000s. His films are beasts of their own: hybridizing person and monster, desire and animosity, reality and fantasy to create poignant stories where his untethered characters break from their molds, transform, and find their own forms of catharsis. 

Beginning on Friday, May 1, Lee’s films will be screened in a special retrospective at the Laemmle Royal in Los Angeles. The opening night features a viewing of Shopping for Fangs and a Q&A with Lee and Lin.

To celebrate and understand Lee’s journey, the Blade sat down with him to discuss his early years making movies and how his art has helped him understand his own identity more. 

What films intrigued you when you were young, before you started making movies?

I grew up as a teenager watching a lot of horror films, and then I became really into Brian De Palma and Hitchcock genre thrillers. I remember I was maybe 15 in Hong Kong, and I picked up this Premiere magazine right before we were leaving for Canada. Brian De Palma had all the storyboards of Casualties of War laid out, and I said, ‘Oh my god, this is the kind of filmmaker I want to become.’ 

I graduated from UC Berkeley, and [there] I started dabbling in experimental filmmaking. So I’d say, as a filmmaker, I really started off with experimental video, video art, and things like that. [Then], I applied to UCLA Film School and didn’t get in. I thought: I’m not going to wait for UCLA before I start making movies. So I made my first short film called “To Ride a Cow.” I did it with my friend, my then-boyfriend, and also with my best girl friend. 

Then, I was traveling to film festivals with my little short film…I think it was ‘93. It was really a fun year that I got to learn a lot more about storytelling, literature, and literary theory at the same time. I remember I was really young. “To Ride a Cow” won the best student film award at the New England Film Festival. I drove from Yale to Boston for that screening. And the programmer was saying something like: ‘Well, all you need to do is just go to the film festivals and talk to some people, and you’ll be making your next film.’ And the next thing, [I’m here] like, 30 years later. [Laughs]

Your first feature, Shopping for Fangs, has been described as the cinematic lovechild of David Lynch and Wong Kar-wai. In the story, every character is fragmented, and the narrative explores their deep isolation, misbelonging, or unfulfilled desire. What was it like for you to create these characters, and did they reflect underlying themes that you wanted to explore as a young filmmaker? 

I realized further down the line, all my films are about someone trying to look for a connection to the world, but they’re not really sure how. And that very much is how, emotionally, I’ve felt most of my life, even till today. I was an immigrant from Hong Kong, moved to Canada, and then moved to America, came out as being queer, and then also found this new kind of Asian American identity. 

In the beginning, I wasn’t even sure I was going to stay in America, so I didn’t completely identify with being Asian American. And then eventually, after I graduated, I thought: You know what? That’s actually a really good identity. Shopping for Fangs is about that. It’s about all these really fragmented characters, whether it’s Phil or Katherine or the husband, and even Clarence, who is this queer Singaporean student trying to get a VISA. That’s kind of me. John Cho didn’t know he was playing me. It’s about them finding a place to belong. That became a throughline for most of my movies.

[Before making Shopping for Fangs], I had put a collection of my short films together, and I premiered them as a feature at the Vancouver International Film Festival. I was coming back in [the winter] of ‘95, and I was really good friends with Justin. I said: ‘Why don’t we make a feature together? You can write a story. I can write [one]. It’s like Chungking Express!’ We spent Christmas writing together. He wrote the story about the werewolf, the Asian American guy. 

I wrote this thing about…I was really obsessed with going to Monterey Park and the Alhambra, San Gabriel Valley area. And I thought: Okay, I want to write something about that. I was also into Hitchcock influences, so, in the end, I came up with the story of Katherine, and we mashed them together. Then, I applied for a Canada Council for the Arts grant, and they wrote: ‘Here’s $50,000. Go make the movie.’ Then, we made it. We started in the summer of ‘96, and I knew that I had to start a company. I started Margin Films to be the entity that produced it. 

I didn’t have a status. I wasn’t American, wasn’t even a resident, so I thought: Well, I guess the only entity I could start is a C-corporation — because I needed to make Shopping for Fangs. 

It was such a moment to watch Shopping for Fangs and be like: Oh, I grew up going to this plaza in the San Gabriel Valley, and now I see it as a centerpiece of a film. You imbue it with mystery, and it, in turn, imbues your film with more mystery as well. About finding connection, how did that ethos evolve in the making of your later films like Ethan Mao and The People I’ve Slept With? Visually, they’re more stripped down. Was that intentional?

Ethan Mao was about this kid who just came out, and he’s trying to figure out where he really belongs. He runs away from home. In “The People I’ve Slept With,” the main character is semi-inspired by the actress in it. At some point, I was listening to David Lynch, [and he said]: ‘Every story has a different way to do it.’ So, there really is no one way to make a movie. Every movie, what I actually do is try to find out: ‘What is this? How should I approach the aesthetics,’ and with Ethan Mao, I’m playing a lot. 

Because of my experimental background, I wanted everything in the house to be like a Greek drama, shot in 35 millimeter film. Everything outside the house, I wanted to be digital video. And the digital video was transferred to film. That became the aesthetics for Ethan Mao and his world. And then with The People I’ve Slept With, it was the beginning of digital film technology, and it was the first time I made a decent-budgeted film with a digital camera. It was very exciting and, at the same time, I was nervous. It’s interesting and reminds me of how technology changes as our culture also changes.

With this upcoming screening series, what do you hope to impart on queer Asian American people who might be seeing your films for the first time?

I hope to have a new generation of audiences take a look at Shopping for Fangs. When it came out, people were like: ‘What is this? It’s not even Asian American. The characters are Asian, but there’s nothing about Asian American identity.’ It was very annoying to hear that, because obviously me and Justin were thinking: ‘We have all this ideology, all these things in it.’ Eventually, years later, more writing on it [has come out], so people started to understand: It actually is about identity.  

A message that I want to [tell] new generations of diverse, queer, and all combinations of different audiences, is that they should go out and experiment. Each of my films is very different,  and I think people should just go out and make things, and not have to worry so much about what they should be making. They should be making what they want to make. I started my journey doing exactly that, so I guess I’m pretty happy about it. 

Kristie Song is a California Local News Fellow placed with the Los Angeles Blade. The California Local News Fellowship is a state-funded initiative to support and strengthen local news reporting. Learn more about it at fellowships.journalism.berkeley.edu/cafellows.