a&e features
John Waters is never wrong
In new book, the ‘filth elder’ has an opinion on just about everything
John Waters, pictured here at home in Baltimore, is back with a new book ‘Mr. Know-It-All: The Tarnished Wisdom of a Filth Elder.’ (Los Angeles Blade photo by Michael Key)
John Waters has had underwhelming meals in overpriced restaurants – so you don’t have to.
He’s been caught in long airport security lines. He’s taken the BoltBus to New York City and been delayed while the driver took a dump in the on-board restroom. He’s had to sit in a doctor’s waiting room with an embarrassing ailment and been barraged with questions from other patients who recognize him and demand to know what he’s got.
Now the Baltimore-based filmmaker and writer, who just turned 73, has put all of those experiences and more into a book of opinions and advice, presumably so people won’t have to endure what he has. Called “Mr. Know-It-All: The Tarnished Wisdom of a Filth Elder,” it’s his ninth book, and it came out this week. He’s described it as “my opinion on everything” and “how to avoid respectability at 70 years old.”
Readers will discover that “Mr. Know-It-All” isn’t just a book about coping with life’s indignities and humiliations, even though there’s plenty of guidance about that. It’s also part memoir, part celebrity tell-all, and part movie industry guidebook with separate chapters about each of his last seven films, all filmed in Baltimore (“Polyester,” “Hairspray,” “Cry-Baby,” “Serial Mom,” “Pecker,” “Cecil B. Demented” and “A Dirty Shame.”)
The book is filled with anecdotes about many of the actors he’s worked with, including Kathleen Turner, Johnny Depp, Tracey Ullman and, of course, Divine. There’s the time Waters turned down Brad Pitt at an audition for “Cry-Baby” because Pitt was too handsome to be cast as Depp’s sidekick – a decision that he thinks makes him perhaps “the only director who ever said no to Brad Pitt.” He remembers that Rikki Lake lost her virginity halfway through “Cry-Baby;” how he called Tab Hunter out of the blue to star in “Polyester,” and how he battled with motion picture censors to let him use the word “Pecker” as a movie title.
Other readers may be drawn to his essays about non-cinematic subjects, which range from art collecting and Brutalist architecture to Yippie protests, Andy Warhol, and taking LSD at 70. In one chapter, he names the one female he has adored since childhood. In another, he imagines returning to the apartment he lived in during the 1960s – a sign that, in some cases, you can go home again (especially when you still live in the town where you grew up.)
“Mr. Know-It-All is here to tell you exactly how to live your life,” he writes early in the book. “I’m never wrong.”
Though the title says it’s a book of wisdom, this is not a rehashed litany of someone else’s platitudes. All the advice he offers grows out of his own experiences. As a result, readers gain insights into the maker of “Pink Flamingos” and “Female Trouble” by learning what he’s gone through and how he dealt with it.
One of those insights is that Waters can be quite frugal and down to earth. He not only takes the inexpensive BoltBus to New York but also goes to a Laundromat when he spends the summers in Provincetown. (And of course, he hitchhiked across the country and wrote about it in his bestseller, “Carsick.”)
In many of his stories, Waters reveals a knack for handling even the most humiliating situations with humor and aplomb. He also says he licks important packages before he puts them in the mail – “to remove any ‘curse’ of show business rejection” – and instructs his staff to do the same. In the LSD chapter, he mentions texting “my boyfriend,” whom he never names.
Waters in on a national tour to launch his book, published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux. West Coast stops include ticketed events at The Green Arcade at the McRoskey Mattress Loft, 1687 Market Street in San Francisco on May 30 at 7 p.m., and Book Soup at The Renberg Theatre (Los Angeles LGBT Center’s Village), 1125 N, McCadden Place in Los Angeles on June 1 at 7 p.m.
Waters recently sat down at his home for an interview with the Blade to talk about his book and his life as a filth elder. The interview has been condensed.
John Waters’s new book shows ‘how to avoid respectability at 70 years old.’ (Los Angeles Blade photo by Michael Key)
BLADE: A good alternative title for your book would be “The Influencer,” don’t you think? How To Win Friends and Influence People 2?
JOHN WATERS: I’m Norman Vincent Peale, you’re saying?
BLADE: You do give a lot of advice: Come up with a gimmick. Have backup plans. Get at least one other person to believe in you. Sound advice, with a John Waters twist.
WATERS: I agree with that totally.
BLADE: Why an advice book?
WATERS: Well, I always kind of parody things, so I thought an advice book coming from me would be kind of a parody in the first place. I needed that kind of genre to be able to talk about all the things I wanted to talk about.
In some ways it’s like “Shock Value” because “Shock Value” ended right before we made “Polyester,” so this has the rest of the movies in it. But I also wrote it from a viewpoint of how to tell young filmmakers how to deal with Hollywood and what happens and all that kind of stuff, and how you fail upward. And then the other subjects I had to put in — about love, about fashion, about art, about death, about every possible thing. But to talk about them all, you need a theme that runs through the whole thing, so that’s how I came up with [giving] advice.
Do I expect every person to follow my advice? No, but I believe that I gave good advice. It’s not really told ironically. I believe everything I say in it. But I hoped to write a humorous book at the same time.
BLADE: Who are you giving advice to?
WATERS: I’m giving advice, first of all, to the people that like my work, because they’re hopefully the first people that buy the book. Secondly, even if you don’t know anything about me, I’m giving advice to younger people about how to handle what’s coming, failure and success, in your life if you’ve chosen to be in the arts in any way. So I think I’m trying to give advice to anybody probably younger than me, because older than me are dead, you know. And I tell you how to beat that too.
BLADE: You’re not writing just for the hardcore fans?
WATERS: No, not at all. If you’re never seen any of my movies, you can still read the book.
BLADE: A lot of your fans may be the ‘others’ in society, those who don’t fit in or conform, the people in “Desperate Living” and other movies.
WATERS: The people that used to be the ‘others’ in society are often now the leaders. Everybody wants to be the ‘other’ now. They didn’t used to. Even Trump would probably want to be an outsider. Obama thought he was an outsider. Everybody wants to be an outsider, and I want to be an insider. I said that in “Make Trouble,” that it’s more fun to cause trouble from within. Which is what “Hairspray” did.
BLADE: But a lot of the others aren’t the ones who would typically be disposed to take advice.
WATERS: Maybe from me they might.
BLADE: Why should someone follow your advice?
WATERS: You don’t have to. I think you could read the book and not follow one bit of it and still enjoy the book. You don’t have to. I don’t expect anybody to, really.
BLADE: Your advice grows out of your experiences. It’s not warmed-over Norman Vincent Peale. And because it comes from within, your advice in turn provides insights into you.
WATERS: I always thought that is a joke, that book, which I probably never read. But my parents had it and it was such a thing then that it became a joke in a way. That same title could apply to this book.
BLADE: The other thing about your advice is, you chronicle all the ways you’ve suffered indignities. You’ve had bad dinners at good restaurants. You’ve had bad seats on international flights. You’ve been harassed at the doctor’s office.
WATERS: I’m also saying all the wonderful things that happened to me. So basically, there are different kinds of problems. It is a high-class problem to worry about being recognized in a doctor’s office. It’s the one time that it’s really bad to be seen. Although, if you weren’t [famous], you wouldn’t have gotten the appointment. So in the long run, it isn’t bad.
BLADE: Do bad things happen to you more than most, like Joe Btfsplk in “Li’l Abner?”
WATERS: No. I say in the book, not one bad thing has ever happened to me from being famous, in any way. It really hasn’t. I mean, high-class problems, some of the things I talk about. But, generally, I can bitch about flying all the time. Bitch about first class, which is really bold. But I get to fly all the time, and I don’t pay for it. But I’m working, you know? So I’m trying to tell people that when bad things happen to them, they can use it and how they can appreciate it and how they can look back on it and it doesn’t mean really anything terrible.
BLADE: You bring up all these universal things that anybody can identify with, and you’ve come out on the other side, none the worse for wear from the indignities you’ve suffered.
WATERS: Everybody has indignities.
BLADE: Are you more sensitive to things than others?
WATERS: No, I don’t think so. I think I notice them more and it’s more, like, ludicrous, some of the problems that you get from being known.
BLADE: And then you use it for comic relief.
WATERS: Yeah, comic relief. In my own life, even.
BLADE: Is there one disappointment that tops them all?
WATERS: I only regret one thing, smoking cigarettes. It’s the only thing I regret in life. Because I’ll probably die from it. I mean, I don’t have cancer, but I’m just saying that, both my parents died from some form of cancer. They were 90 though. They had a long, good life. So, yes, I regret smoking cigarettes.
BLADE: You lived through all these indignities, and that’s a sign that others can too.
WATERS: The other day in New York somebody yelled at me, a homeless person, ‘You’re still alive?’ Which really made me laugh. I thought, ‘Well, yes I am, are you?’
BLADE: You and the Queen of England ought to compare notes.
WATERS: She probably has some really good ones.
BLADE: Is this book political?
WATERS: Sure it is. All humor is political. And this book, definitely. I have a whole chapter, ACT BAD, which is really [suggesting ways] to go further than ACT UP did. I think comedy is political, trying to get you to laugh at things. I think every chapter in this book is political.
But the worst way you can be political [is to] rant. If you get people to laugh, they’ll listen. If you lecture, in a strident tone, like Elizabeth Warren, no one will pay attention. Even though I totally agree with her politics, I hate to hear her talk. She’s never said a funny thing in her life. So the thing is, it’s important, if you want to change people’s minds, to make them laugh. It’s the first way to get their attention.
BLADE: Does your book have any bombshells in it? Landing Tab Hunter for “Polyester?” Not casting Brad Pitt when he auditioned?
WATERS: That’s not up to me to say. The only thing I could think in there, maybe, is the [taking] LSD thing, in a way. That’s the stunt of the book. That’s something that I did that I thoroughly enjoyed. I think if there’s a sentimental chapter in the book about friendship, then maybe that is that. If I had known how strong the LSD was that I took, I probably would have been uptight. But I didn’t and it was great. I spent eight months getting the right acid from the purest source I could find, practically from Timothy Leary’s asshole. The Blade can print that. But the provenance of it was high and it was great. I don’t have to ever do it again. Just like I don’t have to ever hitchhike across the country again. Why would I? I did it. I don’t know if that’s newsworthy, but that would be, maybe.
BLADE: You had a big build-up about it in the book: We don’t know what this is going to do to us. And then you stopped hallucinating and it was OK and the sun rose…
WATERS: It was more than OK. It was great. I never had a bad experience when I was young, or I probably would have never done it. What I wanted to see is, what is it like to do it now, when I’m 70 years old? I certainly would never imagine that many 70-year-olds try to take acid. Especially if you haven’t done it since you were young.
BLADE: Do people still take LSD?
WATERS: Oh yeah. All the young people now do micro-doses. All the people that work in Google. All the tech kids take teeny doses of it. But not many 70-year-olds take it. People I know don’t take it.
BLADE: You write that you tried to get transgender pioneer Christine Jorgensen in a movie. That’s something probably a lot of people don’t know. You’ve sprinkled in all kinds of things that are going to be part of your lore.
WATERS: There are lots of things that people don’t know. But I don’t know that that means it’s Stop the Press. Most everything in the book is probably new information to most people.
BLADE: Who do you wish had been in one of your movies but never was?
WATERS: Always Meryl Streep. But I would have had to stop her from doing a Baltimore accent. And she would have done it brilliantly.
BLADE: Did you have a part for her?
WATERS: You know, at times, any of those movies she could have been in, yeah. We’ve met before, maybe a couple of times, at parties. She’s lovely. But she didn’t say, ‘Oh, I’ve been dying to work with you.’
BLADE: Roseanne Barr has come up.
WATERS: Well, Roseanne, when I dealt with her, she was a liberal. Completely. Yes, she came up a couple of times. I was friendly with her.
BLADE: For “Serial Mom?”
WATERS: Yeah. “And A Dirty Shame.” She was possible for that at one point. So, I was always friends with a liberal. I did her show and everything. Traci Lords was on her show. Who knows? I don’t know. I guess she’s just on the Internet too much.
BLADE: Who was the greatest delight to work with?
WATERS: They all were a delightful, in a way. I mean, making movies is horrible. I say that in the book. Basically, it’s not fun, because there’s so much pressure and you have to do something every day and we’re not going to get this shot and it’s going to be over budget. But they all were team players. That’s what I can say they were.
Somebody said about my mother after she died: She was game. And they were game. They had to be game, to come with us, come to Baltimore, especially joining a group of people that had known each other for 30 years, a lot of them. I didn’t have any trouble with any of them. They were pros. But we were pros to them. I think I was prepared. I knew what to do. It wasn’t like we mistreated them. And they sort of got into the spirit of it.
BLADE: Would you do a word association? Kathleen Turner.
WATERS: A pro. Still see her. Great actress. Stage. Screen. Movies. She could play men, women, anybody with great conviction.
BLADE: Johnny Depp from “Cry-Baby.”
WATERS: I’m on his new album, I hear. I’m not sure how. I remember I talked to him on the phone with Alice Cooper recently and he said: Say this. I don’t remember what I said, so I guess they put it in the album like when I did in The Creep [a song with Nicki Minaj]. Johnny Depp was always a pro with me.
BLADE: Tab Hunter.
WATERS: Well, he voted for Reagan, you know. He used to shock me. He was for Trump, too. He used to laugh when he told me, because he knew how crazy it made me. I love Tab. You know, that’s the thing. He was from a different era. Completely from a different era.
BLADE: Was he like Rock Hudson?
WATERS: Rock Hudson, I don’t know if he was a Republican. Tab, I think was always a Republican. Oh yeah, he was in the closet forever. He had to be. It was illegal. You know. He was loved by every woman in America. It would have ruined his career. And he wrote about all that in his book.
BLADE: Did he write about you?
WATERS: Yeah. He was lovely. I stayed friends with him right up until the end. I just talked to his husband recently. Tab was great. He was a team player too. Lovely to Divine. Matter of fact, he liked the experience so much he went and made a movie with Divine afterwards, called “Lust in the Dust.”
BLADE: Andy Warhol?
WATERS: I remember him at the Baltimore Museum of Art meeting Edith [Massey] and saying, where did you find her? And he was very supportive. He took Fellini to see “Pink Flamingos.” He put Divine on the cover of Interview. He was always supportive.
BLADE: Mink Stole. You named her?
WATERS: Her real name is Nancy Stoll. S-t-o-l-l. I knew her forever. I met her in Provincetown. She was early in my films. She was a character actress, always. She usually played Divine’s enemy. We’ve been friends forever and ever. And I think she’s a really good actor. She still works all the time.
BLADE: Any way to sum up Divine, 31 years after his death?
WATERS: He gets more and more famous as the years go by. And he’d still rather be here. He’d be pissed he’s dead. I’m still shocked he’s dead. I still am. That’s still a shock. But, it’s kind of amazing. Well, we’re all being buried in the same graveyard where he is, you know, all my friends. Obviously, he is still with us.
BLADE: You’ve been good to the guys who commissioned the Divine mural in Baltimore, Jesse Salazar and Tom Williams.
WATERS: They were lovely. Why wouldn’t I be?
BLADE: Your book has only one chapter that’s named after a female.
WATERS: Betsy.
BLADE: The finger-painting chimp from the Baltimore zoo. You reveal this life-long love affair that you’ve kept secret until now.
WATERS: Well, I didn’t have sex with Betsy. I want to make sure that people understand that.
BLADE: You wrote a chapter about her appearances on TV and about The Golden Age of Monkey Art, which she inspired.
WATERS: I just remembered her in that dress and getting national attention and being all over the country. She was on Garry Moore, who was from Baltimore, too.
BLADE: In the last chapter, you write about death and dying, specifically about your death. You try to imagine what happens after you die, and you go back and visit your first apartment at 315 E. 25th Street in Baltimore. Why so morbid?
WATERS: Is it morbid? I don’t think it’s morbid. I think, who at 70-some years old doesn’t think about that?
BLADE: Why such a potential downer?
WATERS: You think it’s a downer? I don’t think it’s a downer… I think everybody at 73 [thinks about death], and I think my friends think about it more than I do. I don’t think about it that much. But you can’t help it when you go to funerals and you think, I am 73, you know, something is going to get you. So I tried to just imagine beating it, how I could be such a control freak that I would refuse to die. And I do always dream about that apartment, so it is just a fantasy of what happens after you die.
But it was to me dealing with the one subject that you’re really not supposed to joke about or kind of focus on. To think about it was sort of liberating in a way, to go through the whole thing. Except that I want to be sure that just because I write something here to be funny, it doesn’t mean that I want my heirs to follow every single thing. Like I say in there, I don’t want something funny on my tombstone. So, I don’t know. I thought it was optimistic. I beat death in it in a way, spiritually at least. That’s optimistic.
BLADE: How is your health?
WATERS: My health is fine.
BLADE: You didn’t write the book to fight death?
WATERS: Well, you write all books to fight death. I mean, I’ve never been as busy as I am. I have more projects than I’ve ever had in my entire life.
BLADE: You don’t name in the book any kind of significant other or life partner.
WATERS: And I never would. Because every person I’ve ever been involved with…doesn’t want to be public. I wouldn’t want somebody that would want to do the red carpet with me. I don’t want a groupie. I don’t want a fan. I want somebody that has their own life.
BLADE: Do you have a partner?
WATERS: Yes, I do.
BLADE: Is that in the book?
WATERS: Obliquely.
BLADE: You don’t want to say who it is?
WATERS: If you don’t keep some things private, you don’t have a personal life. It’s the same thing I say, I have some restaurant receipts that are not tax-deductible. That means I have a personal life. When I read celebrities are telling everything, I think, don’t you have any friends?
BLADE: Your book is so wide ranging it makes one wonder what you’re saving for the next one. After “Mr. Know-It-All,” what is there to write about?
WATERS: Do I have any stories left? Well, I’m writing a novel. I’m on page 64. So, yes, there’s stuff to write about.
BLADE: Is that why your next book is fiction, because you’ve exhausted the autobiography?
WATERS: I’ve written 17 movies. They‘re fiction. The first part of “Carsick” was fiction, too, except that I was in it. That makes it a lot easier. I had never written a novel, so I wanted to try it.
BLADE: Are you ever going to slow down?
WATERS: I hope not. I don’t need to slow down. I like what I’m doing. I don’t know. I guess when I drop dead, I’ll have to.
John Waters (Los Angeles Blade photo by Michael Key)
a&e features
Best of LA DJ of the Year & queer creative Cazwell gets candid on & embracing his Daddy Era
Legendary queer music artist Cazwell takes home the Best of LA’s DJ of the Year award just in time to release his latest LP HITS ALL OVER YOUR FACE [The Peace Bisquit Collection].
Music is magic. It has the power to transform minds, uplift spirits, and unite communities. In a time of too much discord, good music has the potential to provide us with some much-needed harmony. For many marginalized communities, this harmonious energy is not only an instrument of healing but also an amplifier for our collective voice, no autotune necessary. For decades, rapper, producer, and songwriter Cazwell has been dropping dearly queerly tracks, from Loose Wrists to Rice & Beans, melting both our hearts and our ice cream with every beat. It is to absolutely nobody’s surprise that our beloved bicoastal babe has snagged himself the Best of LGBTQ+ LA 2025 award for DJ of the Year (congrats!)
We sat down with Cazwell and talked about the importance of trans empowerment, bringing his East Coast vibe to the West Coast sunshine, and the anticipated release of his latest LP. Sink your teeth in – this one’s going to get all over your face…
Congrats on winning DJ of the Year by the Los Angeles Blade’s Best of LGBTQ+ LA 2025. How does it feel to be recognized for your influence and impact on the queer music scene?
Thank you, Los Angeles Blade and Best of L.A. Awards! I feel recognized for how much I’ve grown as a DJ. I’m very grateful for getting a Saturday night residency at Hi Tops (West Hollywood). The unpretentious atmosphere gives me permission to take chances and surprise the crowd. When it comes to my music, I’ve been told by some gay people in music that I’ve inspired them to keep going with their craft. It feels good to know that I’ve made a positive impact.
Your sound and visuals have always pushed boundaries and tightened trousers. What fuels your creativity, and how has it evolved throughout your career?
I think what fuels my creativity is that I enjoy the process. I get less satisfaction from observing the work I’ve done compared to when I am taking the steps to make it happen. When my head is wrapped up in the world of making a song or filming a music video, time kind of stands still, and that’s when I feel my most powerful. Making music always gives me the opportunity to talk about the life I want to have or the confidence I want to have, and then I get it from the power of the song. Or maybe it was always there, and I had to just dig it up. I’m not sure, but it works for me.
Can you give us a taste of your latest LP, HITS ALL OVER YOUR FACE [The Peace Bisquit Collection]? What themes can we expect, and how does it reflect where you are in your life?
HITS ALL OVER YOUR FACE [The Peace Bisquit Collection] gave me the opportunity to look back at all I’ve done and give myself a little pat on the shoulder, which I rarely do so for my mental health. It was a positive thing. For me personally, the double album is a reflection of how Peace Bisquit has helped me navigate through my decision-making with music production. I’m very proud of it. I looked at the compilation track listing and said to myself, “Damn! I’ve made a lot of great songs!”
Your fashion and visuals are just as iconic as your music. How do you define your style these days, and who or what inspires it?
Well, now I am certainly in my “Daddy Era.” I’ve been pulling a lot of inspiration from 90’s movies like Trainspotting and Fight Club. I also pay attention to a lot of Japanese fashion and always seem to have my head in a Japanese fashion magazine like “Popeye.” Besides that, I’ve learned that no matter what I wear, if I’m not happy with my body, I’m always hiding something. So now my perspective is to be as healthy and fit as I can, and I will feel and look good.
You’ve collaborated with many talented artists. Who is on your dream list that you haven’t worked with yet?
I want to work with Charli XCX. I was just listening to the BRAT album yesterday, and it still hits hard. I’ve been a fan of hers for years and years, and watching her excel and morph into this party girl-raver-superstar has been amazing. I want to write a song with her just to learn. I can’t wait to see what she drops next.
You’ve always been unapologetically queer in your work, especially at a time when visibility wasn’t always celebrated. What does queer visibility in music mean to you today?
Visibility and queer music need to be protected. To me, it means empowerment and not keeping silent, no matter who you make feel uncomfortable. There’s nothing much more powerful than music when it comes to strengthening your mental health. I’ve always wanted to use my music to make gay people feel just as entitled and cocky as straight people do when they rap or sing.
In a political climate that is increasingly hostile toward LGBTQ+ rights, do you feel a new type of urgency in your work as both an artist and public figure?
The urgency has always been there, but they’re coming for trans people first. The most important thing that all artists – gay and straight – can do right now is use their visibility to bring attention to protecting trans people. And that doesn’t just mean wearing a “Protect The Dolls” t-shirt and calling it a day. It means putting them in their songs, their videos, and finding a way to donate money or time to causes that help trans people. Let trans people know that they are loved and cared for anyway you can.
Have there been aspects of your background (cultural, regional, or familial) that you’ve consciously brought into your work, or that you’ve had to push against?
Well, most recently, I’ve been bringing my Polish heritage into my work, wearing a Polska red and white jogging suit in my “Daddy” videos for social media. I’ve always loved that Eastern European look of the guy with the shaved head in a jogging suit looking like a total asshole, lol. I think it’s funny and sexy in its own way. The influence that New York has instilled in my attitude will affect me forever. I’m still hustling to get all my work done like a New Yorker while some of these West Coast kids are waking up at 2 pm every day thinking about brunch.
In today’s conversations around representation and intersectionality, how do you see your place (or your responsibility) as someone who’s broken boundaries in both mainstream and underground spaces?
Our government is trying to get rid of any piece of history that celebrates people of color and the LGBTQ community. It is important for gay artists to recognize that the majority of the genius that comes from our music was birthed from the Black queer community and to pay them respect every opportunity we have. I also feel it’s my responsibility to mentor young queer artists any time I can. I’ll try to give advice or give my thoughts on their work when they ask me. Many young artists don’t have anyone in their circle to just give them constructive criticism or even uplift them and tell them how talented they are. I think everyone needs that.
You’ve spent time on both coasts. Do you consider yourself more East Coast or West Coast at heart? How have the scenes in NYC and LA influenced you differently, both musically and personally?
I’m definitely more East Coast. I’m a New Yorker till the day I die. Los Angeles has given me the opportunity to relax and gather my thoughts as opposed to always being in a competitive hustle just to keep a DJ gig and pay rent on time. I miss the vibration of New York, but I wouldn’t trade it for the mental clarity that I’ve been able to develop on the West Coast. Hopefully, someday I’ll be bi-coastal.
What’s something fans might be surprised to learn about you, either in the booth or outside the spotlight?
I think the thing that would surprise them the most is that I haven’t had sex in over a year. Partly by choice and partly because I prefer to have sexual relationships with somebody I admire, and I haven’t been able to find that in a long time. It was definitely easier on the East Coast, but I’ve been working on myself a lot lately, so I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything.
What’s your message to younger queer artists navigating the music industry right now?
Don’t try to perfect your work. It will never happen. Enjoy the process and don’t be afraid to suck. No artist that’s been in the game for years wants to listen to their early pieces of work because it feels so cringe. Just keep making music. Keep putting out art. Don’t focus on the outcome. Just focus on the vision you’ve received because you got this calling for a reason.
a&e features
Harvey Guillén gets honest about ‘What We Do in the Shadows’ acting snub, fashion double standards and queer representation
Guillén sees voiceover work as less exclusionary: “All your talent is based not on what you look like.”
Harvey Guillén has had quite the extraordinary year, from making one last stop at the Emmys for the sixth and final season of the hilarious What We Do in the Shadows, acting alongside Lukas Gage and Sophie Thatcher in the horror comedy Companion, to continuing to voice act in shows like Harley Quinn and Mickey Mouse Funhouse.
But he’s only just getting started.
“I guess in my head, I have so much more to do,” Guillén tells The Blade after receiving the Truth Icon Award at the Raizado Festival back in August. “I’m just getting started, and then when they read out 70-something film and show credits to my name, I was like, ‘What!’ Because I’m not keeping score of the projects I’m doing. It blew my mind because in my head, I constantly think this is just the beginning.”
Guillén brings flair to every red carpet and has the goal of becoming the first queer Latino person nominated at the Emmys for best supporting actor in a comedy. But beyond his on-screen visibility, the L.A.-native recognizes the unique opportunity voice acting provides.
“Imagine a place where you can be creative, where all your talent is based not on what you look like, not how tall you are, not your background — just your voice,” Guillén says, reflecting on notable roles in Puss in Boots: The Last Wish and Wish. “And that’s appealing, because voiceover is the hardest place to get into. It’s the one place that’s even more welcoming than any of the other departments.”
Guillén sat down with The Blade to unpack the evolution of his red carpet looks, saying goodbye to his What We Do in the Shadows family, only recently being allowed back in his Altadena home following the devastating wildfires, and wanting to inspire other queer Latino men with both his on-screen and voice acting work. This interview has been edited and condensed.
You’ve had an incredible year, and I’d love to start off by hearing about the inspiration for your red carpet fashion. It really stands out.
That was Harry Haleen, and I think he’s a great, amazing designer. We just work with what we already have. As a big boy, I always like to accentuate curves, and we wanted to do this sharp shoulder, bringing it back to the ‘80s Dynasty moment, but also a plunging neckline, which made it into a corset-looking top. The high-waisted pants gave this cool, almost triangle-cinch look. The pants and outfit were really comfortable to be in, and I had a long, draping cape attached to these pants. When you look in the front, you see pants, and then when you walk away, you see a gown.
I started working with my stylist, Melvin, after years of styling myself. I finally found someone who wanted to show off and make a good impression with fashion choices. That was never an option for me because no one wanted to dress up a big guy. No one would want to take a chance, or their answer was always, “We just don’t know where to shop for you.” That’s ridiculous — fashion should be for everyone, not just for sample-size models. So this whole year, we’ve taken that journey together. We want to make it clear that fashion is for everyone, and the big boys can be fashionable.
What We Do in the Shadows ended this past year with its sixth season. How do you look back on your experience being a part of that show for so many reasons and receiving so many Emmy nominations?
We’ve been doing this for six seasons, and it really felt bittersweet because every time we go to the Emmys, we see a new show come on board, we meet them and they’re always so nice. From Abbott Elementary and Quinta Brunson coming up to us and saying how much they love the show when their first season was on the air — now she’s become a friend — to Seth Rogen from The Studio saying how much he loves the show. And vice versa. You know, comedy is hard. Amy Poehler recently said that sometimes the Academy Awards snub comedies and don’t really take them seriously. I think that’s not fair because making people cry is easy, making people laugh is hard. Because our show had such a specific storyline with vampires, sometimes what got lost in the recognition was taking it as a serious show. Because the writing is incredible, the acting is phenomenal, yet everything but the actors got nominated. We never got nominations except last year, for the first time, Matt Berry got the nomination. We were rooting for him, we were all rooting for you! We wanted him to take home the award, and it didn’t happen. But we at least got the nomination.
For me personally, it was a goal because I wanted to be the first queer Latino to be nominated for a supporting role in a comedy. That would have made history. And so even if I didn’t win, I was like, “At least if I get nominated, we’ll make history.” That’d be cool to open the door for another queer Latino who comes after me, and it didn’t happen.
Hopefully, that history can be made soon. I also know you’re an L.A. native, and your Altadena house was damaged in the January fires. There have been struggling production rates, and the ICE raids. What has it been like to see all these changes in L.A. and also these moments where people have come together to support the community?
It’s been tough. It’s been a rough year. I was just allowed to come back to my home about a month ago. They finally gave us the green light to go. My house was damaged, and the property was all damaged. The night it happened was kind of traumatizing because they didn’t evacuate our side of town in Altadena. I was in my home, I got rid of my car a long time ago, and I was looking out the window. We started rehearsal that day for Anything Goes at the Pasadena Playhouse with Jinkx Monsoon, and we stopped abruptly and said, “There’s been a warning for Altadena.” We canceled rehearsal, went home, and said, “Everyone, go take care of what you have to take care of, and we’ll see you guys tomorrow.” We never went back to rehearsal.
I went back home and saw a red ball of fire in the distance. I was like, “That is way too close,” and they didn’t evacuate us. The winds were 100 miles per hour that night, and there were sparks in the air, amber falling from the sky. I remember thinking, “I just bought this house. I’m a first-generation homeowner.” I had just shown this house to my Mom and tricked her over the Christmas break to think that I had rented an Airbnb, and then when she got to the Airbnb, I told her I bought it. To see her face, to see that her son bought a home in America for the first time… it was very sentimental. I just remember thinking of all that, going back in the backyard and asking ancestors to look after my house.
It’s almost like a distraction to myself to create a distraction for others, because I distract myself by creating a movie, show, or comedy. It’s therapeutic for me to not be focused so much every day on the insanity that is insurance and fire and all that. But along the way, we wanted to use the arts to help, so I did an evening where we raised money for street vendors, who are also being affected by ICE in Southern California. We also did a read of Superbad streaming online with Gloria Calderón [Kellett] to raise money, to donate money to organizations that help people. Just getting back to some kind of normality, which is hard this year with ICE and the fires and everything. And also, where we are with the State of the Union and just in general as human beings. It’s been a tough year, but one thing I’ve learned is that in times like this — in history, in the future — you’ll always need an escape. That means entertainment and actors are more important than ever. We are needed. I’m not a first responder, but what I can do is provide an escape, and I’ll continue to do that as long as I can.
That’s a great way of putting it. Another issue that California has been struggling with is trying to get production back in the state. I know many Emmy-winning shows like The Studio and Hacks were campaigning on the fact that they were shot on location. For you as an actor, is keeping filming local important to you?
Yeah, absolutely. I always say it’s so funny that every day, we have planes that land in L.A. with a new writer, actor, model, and dancer with these dreams of joining this amazing profession. And yet they get here, they’re outsourced to Alabama, to Spain, to Toronto. I can count the number of times that I’ve shot in Los Angeles in one hand for the last decade.
Oh wow.
I consider myself very lucky and privileged to work as often as I do, because as history has shown you, statistically-proven, someone who looks like me, with my background, with my sexuality, should not be successful in this business because they have made it harder for us by diminishing our stories and saying that those stories aren’t welcome. I don’t take it lightly; it’s not lost on me how lucky I am. It’s just you have to constantly be working at the next gig, trying to get the next gig, and all those gigs are never in L.A. because everything has been outsourced. I shot a movie in Spain last Fall. Shadows was shot in Toronto for seven years of my life. I might as well get dual citizenship in Canada!
This is the entertainment capital of the world. I noticed recently that used to be the slogan for Universal Studios, the actual theme park where they make movies. They legally can’t say that anymore; they can’t even stand by their own words. You can’t even say that because it’s a lie; it’s no longer the entertainment capital, but it was built on that. And the idea that this town is so expensive to live in, and you make it even harder to live and work in. It’s a little bit greedy, you know? This city is built on entertainers. You can’t even be an entertainer and live here, right? You have to live in Milwaukee or Texas and then fly in to wherever they’re going to shoot. And if you do that, you’re going to lose what L.A. was based on. That’s scary because the other source of this city was built on immigrants from all over the world.
As you look forward, you mentioned your goal of representing queer Latino men on screen. What kind of roles do you want to take on, and where are you hoping your career will take you?
I would like to think that when people see me on screen, they’re inspired to do anything they want to do. My biggest thing is when I have people come up to me at Comic Con — men, women, trans, non-binary — they say something like, “When I see you, I feel seen. When I see you just living your life full of joy, I see it is possible that I can also be that.” That’s really amazing to hear because when I started this, I didn’t start to necessarily do that, but after I was aware that just by living and doing you every day, you could be inspiring someone who’s going through a hard time. You could be the inspiration someone needs to be an inspiration to someone else — It’s a ripple effect. This is like dropping the rock in the pond and the ripple effects it makes after that.
a&e features
Pride & protest in Palm Springs: Behind the man who crafts queer joy as resistance
Jeff Hocker shares how his lifelong commitment to queer activism and creative drive revolutionized Palm Springs’ events into some of the hottest and most unapologetic celebrations of queer pride and resistance.
From the frontlines of LGBTQ+ activism in San Francisco to the glitter-glazed streets of Palm Springs, Jeff Hocker is so much more than an event producer. Swapping out the megaphones for microphones, Hocker is fearlessly fueling the movement through celebration and joy. The visionary behind some of Palm Spring’s most iconic festivities like Halloween on Arenas and Cinco de Mayo, Hocker blends jubilation with justice, glitter with grit. With a career that began alongside legends like Cleve Jones and Gilbert Baker, he’s spent decades turning parties into platforms and dance floors into declarations.
This year, his signature Halloween street soiree is upping its game, expanding into a full weekend experience with two distinct nights of revelry. On Friday Hocker is serving up MASKED, a costume-clad fête, and Saturday is UNMASKED, a deliciously uninhibited tribute to leather, fetish, and foxy fantasy. The Blade sat down with Hocker to talk about his journey and how joy itself can be a radical act of resistance in and of itself.
You’ve been a driving force behind some of Palm Springs’ most iconic events, like Halloween and Cinco de Mayo. What first drew you to this path, and how did you get started in the world of event production?
I actually grew up in the Bay Area and then moved to San Francisco. Early on, I became friends with people like Cleve Jones and Gilbert Baker. We put together the first Pink Saturday in San Francisco, and from there, we helped launch the city’s Halloween celebration. Eventually, we were all busy with different projects, so we passed it along to the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence.
One day, I saw a job listing in the paper that said, “Travel the world, promote Palm Springs.” I thought, “That’s me.” My friends had always said, “All you do is talk about Palm Springs—you should be getting paid to promote it.” So for four years, I traveled internationally to promote all aspects of Palm Springs.
After that whirlwind, I started my own business and returned to event production. I produced major events like Idyllwild Jazz in the Pines and was executive producer for Opera in the Park, which still happens today. I began developing my own events too, which gave me the freedom to work with the people and brands I believe in.
About 12 years ago, Dick Castcamp, a local bar owner in the Arenas District (who has since passed), approached me and said, “Jeff, we need you to take over Halloween.” The event had plateaued and needed someone with vision to elevate it, and showcase the district. That’s when Halloween Palm Springs became what it is today. We’ve grown it every year, bringing in Grammy-winning artists like Thelma Houston and Evelyn “Champagne” King. It’s not just a costume party – it’s a full-on world-class experience.
Halloween on Arenas is legendary – not just for costumes, but for drag shows, celebrity hosts, and even international porn stars. For those who’ve never been, what can they expect this year?
Halloween falls on a Friday this year for the first time in a while, so we’re making it a two-night event, and it also coincides with Leather Pride Weekend. We’ve themed the nights accordingly:
Friday, October 31st is MASKED – all about lavish costumes, masks, and our big costume contest.
Saturday, November 1st is UNMASKED – a leather, fetish, and fantasy street party. The street will fully transform overnight, and we’ll have some of the world’s top DJs like Hector Fonseca and Luciana, the Queen of Electro. They’ve both played circuit parties worldwide.
We’re calling it two nights of dance parties, because people come to dance. We’ll also have incredible culinary options, like TacoZarro, a kind of celebrity food truck chef who caters for Acrisure Arena and major events. And El Salvador Restaurant is coming too.
Friday’s lineup includes our costume contest (around 7:30 PM), followed by platinum-selling pop diva Dev – you probably know her from “Like a G6” and “In the Dark.” We also have DJ Juan from Beatbox SF, local favorite DJ Modgirl, and DJ Jeffrey. From start to finish, the street is going to be alive with music, energy, and celebration.
Palm Springs is evolving quickly, especially since COVID. How has the city’s changing scene shaped your events, and how have your events influenced that evolution?
When I worked for the Bureau of Tourism, the average age in Palm Springs was 58. Now it’s around 45. More people are moving here to open businesses, especially younger professionals from LA, San Diego, and New York.
The restaurant scene has exploded with chef-owned concepts, and the hotel industry is attracting investors who are completely renovating properties. We’re seeing more LGBTQ+ folks, of course, but also straight allies who want to be part of the vibrant, inclusive culture here.
It’s not just a retirement town anymore. There’s real opportunity, especially with things like the new College of the Desert West campus, which will offer programs in media and hospitality. That means local students can graduate and stay here, something that wasn’t possible before.
Switching gears – at a time when LGBTQ+ rights, especially trans rights, are under attack nationally, how do you see Palm Springs as a place of visibility and resistance?
I was fortunate to grow up in San Francisco and be around people like Cleve Jones, who taught me the power of civil disobedience and activism. I was in ACT UP. I worked on the first March on Washington. I was there when the gay choral movement started after Harvey Milk’s assassination.
Now, I sing with the Palm Springs Gay Men’s Chorus, and we use music as a form of social justice. Our community is under real threat again, particularly the trans community. Here in Palm Springs, we support them however we can – through clothing drives, visibility, advocacy.
I always say: when one group is targeted, others usually are too. Hate is rarely limited to one group. That’s why I work to bring people together – across race, religion, gender, identity – to stand against hate in all forms. That’s how we protect each other.
Speaking of activism, do you see celebrations that embrace joy in our community like Palm Springs’ Halloween on Arenas as a form of protest in themselves?
Absolutely. Joy is resistance. Visibility is resistance. Look at someone like Keith Haring. His graffiti and subway art were acts of protest. They made people feel something. That’s what art does. And I think joyful, unapologetic celebration is a form of protest too, especially when others try to silence or erase us.
Art has always been political. Take Gilbert Baker, who created the rainbow flag. When people dance in the streets, unapologetically queer, proudly in costume -that’s protest. That’s defiance. That’s hope.
The arts are under attack. PBS, Lincoln Center, institutions that shaped American culture are being defunded or devalued. We need to fight for them. And we need to bring back the basics – telling our stories, marching, being out. Harvey Milk said, “Tell everyone you’re gay.” Because once people realize their neighbor, their doctor, their contractor is LGBTQ+, it changes hearts and minds.
Young people today often feel like, “We’ve won our rights.” But rights can be taken away. They need to know who Harvey Milk was. They need to understand Stonewall. Because if we forget, we risk repeating history.
You mentioned working with Cleve Jones. Could you share something about him that the public might not know?
In the early days of the Names Project, I worked alongside him doing press, coordinating volunteers. It was hard. San Francisco and New York were the epicenters of HIV/AIDS. We were losing people constantly.
Cleve knew the power of creativity. The AIDS Memorial Quilt wasn’t just art. It was healing. It gave mothers, siblings, and friends a way to grieve and feel seen. It built community. And even today, with HIV still impacting lives, we need something like that again, something creative and soul-nourishing to remind people this crisis isn’t over.
Not all activism is protest signs and rallies. Sometimes, it’s music, fabric, dancing in the streets in your full authentic self. That’s protest too. That’s power.
Looking back on Halloween past, any standout performances, wild moments, or costumes that have been etched into your mind rent-free for all time?
Absolutely. One of the most incredible performances was Thelma Houston. Her agent told me, “She’s 80, but she’ll blow your mind.” And wow! She performed like she was 25. Just amazing energy and professionalism.
As for costumes, one year we had a group called School of Fish. About 12 people dressed identically in fish costumes, complete with fins and bubble guns. They moved in formation through the crowd like they were swimming. It was magical! And surprisingly, they didn’t win. Edward Scissorhands took the crown that year. But the creativity every year continues to blow me away.
With the national rise in anti-LGBTQ+ and especially anti-trans rhetoric and policy, how do you see Palm Springs as a beacon of resistance and visibility?
I was fortunate to come of age in San Francisco, working alongside people like Cleve Jones, who was a major part of the movement. I was involved in Act Up, the Names Project, and so many early HIV/AIDS protests. Civil disobedience was our tool. We marched, we organized, and we fought.
Now, in Palm Springs, we actively support our trans community with clothing drives, visibility events, and resource connections. We understand that hate rarely targets just one group. It’s intersectional. If they hate LGBTQ people, they also likely hate Black people, Jewish people, immigrants, and women’s rights.
My goal with events is to bring people together, to showcase joy as resistance, to build bridges, and to remind people: our power lies in community.
For folks who don’t throw events or have a big platform, do you have any advice for how they can participate in activism during the Halloween season?
Yes. Get engaged. Read up on local and national policies. Support political candidates who align with your values. Even a $1 donation helps. Volunteer. Show up. Protest.
And if you’re celebrating Halloween, do it loudly. Be creative, be bold. Wear costumes that send a message, or spark conversation. You never know who you might inspire.
Click here for info on Halloween on Arenas
a&e features
Bangers and beats and bears, oh my! Tom Goss dishes on his music and the queer community
As anti-LBGTQ+ rhetoric grows louder, Tom Goss is turning up the volume on queer joy and visibility through his music and live shows
Tom Goss is making space, making an impact, and making fantastic queer-centric music as always. Through his music and his career, Goss firmly and fiercely lifts up queer joy, the more tender side of masculinity. With his genre-fluid sound that reverberates from folk to hip-hop to unquestionably and unabashedly queer pop, Goss has become a pioneer of the perfectly performed unconventional.
Most recently, he performed at LA’s iconic Hotel Café, where he shared the stage with fellow queer music icons Rachael Sage and Kristen Ford. We had the opportunity to catch up with Tom to discuss the evolution of his music, the importance of representation, and why being “very, very gay” is a radical act in and of itself.
You’ve made for yourself quite the reputation as an unabashed narrator with your music. Could you describe the evolution of your sound over the years?
For me, the story is always at the forefront of my music. Each story demands a different treatment. Folk, Pop, Dance, Hip-Hop, Rock, nothing is off the table. Whatever is best for the story is the direction that I take.
I find it a little odd that we demand our artists find their voice, but we also demand that they never change their voice. My first record came out in 2006, which was almost 20 years ago. My tastes, interests, relationships, and experiences have changed drastically over those 20 years. It makes sense that the music I make would change along with it.
Ultimately, I try to craft memorable music that is uplifting and positive. Whether that’s Gay Stuff (my July release, a gay pop summertime bop), Bear Soup (my May release, a hip-hop bear twerk anthem), or my upcoming record, which is queer Americana. It’s all a part of the journey and I hope you have as much fun as me!
Your music has graced many film soundtracks (including the full score for 2017’s Hooked), performed internationally, and has made gorgeously gay music videos. How do you approach film projects vs. live performances?
Film has pushed my idea of what style of music elevates a scene. It forces you to write differently, play instruments differently, and produce differently. As people, we tend to find the lane in which we are most comfortable, and put life on cruise control. As an artist, that is the worst possible thing. Scoring films, or making videos, forces you to work with other people, understand other perspectives and ideas, and grow as a result.
My music video “Son of a Preacher Man” was probably the first time I wrote something with the video in mind first. My director and longtime collaborator, Michael Serrato, had an idea for the “Son of a Preacher Man” music video. I thought it was awesome and went to work arranging the song in a way that would support the visuals, rather than the other way around. It was very powerful. Now I write songs with video concepts first all the time, it’s such a fun way to work!
You’re quite the celebrity in the bear community. That said, what does this recognition mean to you and how, if so, does it influence or fuel your creative process?
I feel honored to be a part of the bear community. It’s full of the most beautiful, creative, smart, and sensitive people I have ever met. Anytime I speak of love or attraction, it’s about bears. I do not understand how to love without bears. Without them, the world is black and white. With them, it is overflowing with color and joy. Love fuels everything in my life. There is no Tom Goss without bears.
Do you think labels like “bear musician” are empowering, limiting, or something else entirely?
It is not my job to label myself. I make music, I tell stories, I love those around me, and I create art as a result of that which I love. I really try to focus on those things rather than anything else.
Your music can challenge traditional (or, arguably, outdated) concepts of masculinity. Was this intentional or, rather, something that emerged over time?
It’s very intentional. I have, from the very beginning, worked to have a diverse cast of characters in my projects. I believe the way we see beauty is learned. The reason we are judgmental towards people of size, or color, or expression, is because we were taught to. That’s easy to understand.
The flipside is, the way we change the way we see beauty, is by showing other forms of beauty. That is my job. I want to take the things the world says aren’t beautiful, and capture them in a way that utilizes the same tools we use to make traditionally beautiful people appear beautiful.
I can’t tell you how many messages I’ve gotten over the years that say:
“oh, I didn’t know that I liked [insert marginally racist, sizeist, transphobic name here] but that person in your video is HOT!”
And OF COURSE THEY ARE! Stop trying to find the things you don’t like about someone and find what makes them beautiful.
Gaga has her monsters and Beyonce has her Hive. What name, either collective or plural, would you give to your devoted fanbase (assuming that one does not yet exist)?
Friends. The idea of artist idolatry makes me uncomfortable.
Can you share with us some ways that you prepare yourself for a live show? Any pre-show rituals – Pagan, Wiccan, or otherwise?
Ha! Not really. Usually I’m running around and laughing with folks until I look at my clock and realize that I need to stop and perform.
Can you share with us one lyric that you’ve written that sent chills running down your own spine?
Joan of Arc was trans as fuck.
He cut his hair and picked up arms.
Walked across an empire, fulfilled his destiny.
I play it alongside Joe Stevens, an iconic trans singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist who has long been a hero of mine. Look him up. Support him.
You use your voice and your platform not just to make fantastically fabulous music but to hold a mic to queer voices and their stories. How do your roles of artist and advocate intersect and amplify each other?
I want to tell stories that other people are afraid to tell. I want to tell stories that speak to my experience and impact the way that I see the world. Over the course of my career, that has meant queer stories.
Frankly, there is no community that is more vibrant, diverse, creative, resilient, and dynamic than the queer community. It’s really that simple.
With anti-LBGTQI+ rhetoric spreading like the flames of a wildfire, do you feel a sense of urgency to advocate through your music?
My goal over the next couple of years is to be very, very gay, very, very queer, and very, very honest about the things that make me happy in that identity. We have to provide hope to people in a time when things feel so hopeless. We also have to protect our trans community. They are very much under attack.
If there is one thing that you’d wish for the younger generation of our queer community to take away from your shows, your music, and your career, what would it be?
Be yourself, no matter how hard it seems. Don’t let anyone take you away from you. It’s ok to play. Find that which brings you joy and explore it to the fullest.
You are beautiful and valuable. I’m so happy to be in this world with you.
And lastly, how will you be celebrating Halloween month this year?
I’ll be touring in California (LA, San Diego, San Francisco) and then heading to Florida for Cannonball. It’s going to be a fun, bear-filled month!
a&e features
Jennifer Lopez talks ‘Kiss of the Spider Woman,’ queer representation
Latest version of iconic story ‘a love letter to humanity’
With its riveting storyline and gorgeous dance scenes, it’s no wonder that one of the standout films this awards season is “Kiss of the Spider Woman.” Originally a bold novel published by Argentine writer Manuel Puig in 1976, it was adapted into a play and then a screenplay. In 1985, the film earned four Academy Award nominations, with William Hurt winning Best Actor — the first ever awarded for a portrayal of an openly queer character.
Ten years later, in 1993, the story was turned into a Broadway musical starring the iconic Chita Rivera, and won several Tony Awards. Fast forward to 2025: for this new version, Jennifer Lopez and Diego Luna both play dual roles in the film, which also stars newcomer, Tonatiuh.
The film takes place in 1983, during Argentina’s troubled times; two prisoners are forced to share a confined cell in Buenos Aires. Valentín (Luna), a Marxist revolutionary, is committed to his political idealology, despite being tortured and deprived by the guards. Molina (Tonatiuh), a gay window dresser who is in jail because of his sexual orientation, survives the insanity by fantasizing about his favorite movie, telling Valentin all the details. While their connection begins as a way for them to emotionally escape, it grows deeper, in the most profound way.
Through stories, confessions, and sacrifice, the duo discover unexpected tenderness and the possibility of love in a place designed to annihilate the human spirit.
“These two men who could not be different in every single way, everything is stripped away from them in their lives, the politics, class, education, all this stuff goes away, and they start to see themselves as individuals,” said Bill Condon, the Academy Award-winning writer-director known for such films as “Gods and Monsters,” “Chicago,” “Dreamgirls” and “Beauty and the Beast,” who was deeply moved as he wrote the script.
Producing the updated version of the film was vital to Lopez, who is also an executive producer. “I think it’s more relevant than ever,” she said at a recent Golden Globes press event.
“The idea of a trans or gay character in this movie…the kind of divisiveness that we’ve experienced in the world in the past few years. A story about two people who are thrown together, who are so opposite, who are so different from each other. And find the humanity and fall in love with each other. Who would never probably even find themselves in the same circles. That’s really important to have queer representation in movies. In my own family, I know how important that is for people to see that.”
Tonatiuh, who steals every scene he is in, lost 45 pounds for the role.
“I think there’s a certain moment that’s happening right now that we need to remind ourselves that dignity and humanity and love transcend gender,” he said. “They transcend sexual orientation. They transcend all of those things. And so, yes, we deal with queer themes in our film, but I do think that it is a love letter to diversity. It is a love letter to humanity as a whole.”
Condon loved every version of “Kiss of the Spider Woman,” each of them was “revolutionary” for its time.
“But when you read that novel, it’s taken us this long to really catch up to what it was saying. And specifically, this was well before the election season and well before we knew what was going to happen. But it was clear that trans people were going to be demonized, that they were going to be a part of the conversation…it did feel that this was something that was bubbling up and happening. So that’s what made it feel very urgent.”
Lopez added: “The revolution that you’re saying that we need right now is exactly the reason why I think the movie is so important right now for people to see. Because it reminds you that it’s really, at the end of the day, about two people getting along and falling in love, when you really forget about all of the other things, that we’re all just human. And it is about humanity.”
Tonatiuh hopes that the film inspires people to step up.
“We constantly see the news, we see everything that’s going around and we wonder, ‘What is it that I can do? I’m just one person.’ But this isolationist mentality is the thing that gets us here. Every one of us has little actions to take and little moments to do. And especially in a moment where Latinos in general in this country are experiencing massive negative public relations, just attack after attack after attack, it’s really wonderful to showcase what Latino dignity is and reminding people of, like the talent, the joy that our culture adds to the United States and the world.”
a&e features
Sitting Down with Mariachi Arcoiris, Los Angeles’ only LGBTQ+ mariachi
This historic group breaks down their music and how they stay hopeful during such uncertain times.
Few things in this world are as powerful as a song.
For centuries, marginalized communities have used music as a way to come together, as a rallying cry to remember the power they hold against those who’d oppress them. And in a Los Angeles filled with music, few groups resound as loudly as Mariachi Arcoiris.
Composed of passionate violins, bellowing trumpets, and amazingly flamboyant uniforms, mariachi encapsulates the complexities of Latine music and the strength of this community. It unfortunately hasn’t always been welcoming to queer performers, but recent years have seen artists merge their identities to create a beautifully intersectional sound. Arcoiris is one of these; this group made history 11 years ago when it was formed as the world’s first all-queer mariachi band. In the time since they’ve inspired thousands, not only gaining fame through their endlessly viral performances but soothing generational wounds with their sound…and it’s been devastating to watch them struggle, along with all of LA’s Latine community, amidst violent ICE Raids and national discrimination.
The Los Angeles Blade was honored to sit down with members of Mariachi Arcoiris to hear about the impact of their music and what it’s been like watching their identities be targeted. They detail how horrible it’s been seeing LA come under attack in recent months — but also how they haven’t lost hope. Because, as any good mariachi will tell you: music heals. And Mariachi Arcoiris hopes that their songs can be the soundtrack to Los Angeles fighting back against those hurting it today.
“I thought to myself, ‘That’s it. I’ve had it — I’m going to start a mariachi where people like me can be welcomed,” Said Carlos Samaniego, who founded Mariachi Arcoiris in 2014. He explained how this group was created in response to homophobia; he’d previously left numerous other mariachis after facing prejudice due to his sexuality. Refusing to allow antiquated ideals to halt his dreams, he founded this group to create a haven for other musicians who’d been refused the spotlight they deserved.
Musicians like Samantha ‘Sammi’ Bautista, who traveled across California to audition for the group the moment she turned 18. She explained what many called a rash move, saying, “It had been a dream of mine…being gay openly, playing along with people in my community. It’s very powerful, [being] ourselves with each other and [creating] this music.” And it’s powerful to watch as well; along with an interview, the Los Angeles Blade was welcomed to sit in on Mariachi Arcoiris’ practice — one of the many they conduct each week. It was an uplifting experience to see a group that encompasses so many identities being used as political fodder come together in laughter and heartfelt performance. Evident in every moment was how much these performers care for one another, with member Yalitza ‘Yaya’ Vasquez-Lopez saying, “This is where we can always come back to and forget about everything else happening in the world.”
It’s a kind of reprieve that Mariachi Arcoiris hopes to give its audience. “We’re really just activating something powerful within us and within our people,” continued Yaya. “And I think that that is resistance in itself, because [when] you start singing along to a song, you [realize]: I’m not alone.” It quickly became clear that this was the mission of Mariachi Arcoiris, to encourage others to live as openly as these musicians do onstage — an openness that, unfortunately, many Angelinos currently view as dangerous.
It’s difficult to describe the gut-wrenching anxiety that has filled LA in previous months. The city has become a hotbed of ICE Raids and the focus of national racism, with each day bringing new stories of hardworking individuals being kidnapped and denied their rights. It’s made many Latine communities reluctant to show pride for their culture in fear of it making them a target. And not only have these attacks affected the city’s residents on a personal level, but as Carlos stresses, on a professional one as well.
“The majority of my musicians do this for a living,” said the founder. “This is how they pay their rent, their food, their gas — everything. Because of the ICE raids, there have been many cancellations of performances.” He emphasized it’s not just them; mariachis across the city have found themselves struggling financially as institutions grow fearful of hosting such a bold example of culture. And not only is their race being targeted, but Mariachi Arcoiris is made up of queer and trans individuals, identities that face more and more attacks from politicians determined to paint their authenticity as something insidious. They’ve found themselves as intersectional targets, enduring a hateful climate that has caused so many people to give up hope…
So why hasn’t Mariachi Arcoiris?
“It hasn’t affected us morally at all,” clarified Yaya, when asked how these attacks have impacted the group’s willingness to perform. “[We are] a chosen family, and it’s brought us closer together to just know that this is where we belong.” The members expressed how they are constantly doing their best to protect one another — and it doesn’t stop with the group. Sammi described how Arcoiris has joined many other mariachi groups in consistently appearing at ICE protests and political demonstrations across LA. They do this all while still loudly broadcasting their queer and trans identities, knowing that the representation their group was founded upon is more important now than ever. This is not to say they’re immune to worry; each member held (utterly justified) concerns around their rights and freedoms. But Yaya reassures that it’s their shared love of the artform — and one another — that keeps them going, saying, “Mariachi is joy, pain, sadness…but also celebration and resistance. Especially today, especially in the US, that’s what mariachi is.”
In a Los Angeles mired in fearful uncertainty, Mariachi Arcoiris is committed to remaining a mainstay of both LGBTQ+ and Latine culture. The group recognizes their future is uncertain; they are still facing reduced performance requests, and each day brings more news of attacks on their communities. Yet they know that music is their best form of resistance, that the melodies they bring to thousands are a reminder of the power we have when we stand together, unafraid to show our most authentic selves. They find solace in this liberating sound, creating it daily to empower not only each other but their countless fans worldwide.
And they want every listener to remember that, if they ever feel alone or like they’ve lost their community, all they have to do is sing along.
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Jennifer Tilly on the legacy of queer neo-noir ‘Bound’ nearly 30 years later: “It was considered detrimental to your career to play a lesbian character”
Tilly also recalls the AIDS epidemic and Project Angel Food’s crucial work.
Before accepting the top honor at this year’s Project Angel Food’s Angel Awards, Oscar-nominated and GLAAD award-winning actor Jennifer Tilly (Bullets Over Broadway) reflected on the lasting influence of the 1996 queer neo-noir Bound, which she starred in alongside Gina Gershon (Showgirls).
“When we went in, they said to us, ‘You will not believe the actresses who refused to come in and read’ because it was considered detrimental to your career to play a lesbian character,” Tilly told The Blade on the Sept. 27 red carpet at Paramount Studios in Los Angeles. “But I was astonished because I thought, ‘This is the best script that I’ve read in such a long time with one of the best roles for women.’”
Tilly and Gershon co-starred as two women who fall in love and concoct a scheme to steal millions of dollars in mob money, and the film was directed by the Wachowski Sisters before they became household names. “They were first-time directors — nobody knew anything about them,” Tilly said. “But it’s one of my favorite performances of all time, and I’m really happy the new generation is beginning to discover it. It’s been on a lot of lists of the best film noir, the best lesbian movies.”
The Wachowskis came out as trans decades later, in 2012 and 2016, respectively. While Tilly recalls being surprised, when she reflects on her time working with them, she claims she should’ve known: “They wrote two of the most brilliant parts for women that I’ve ever read. So they had that soul, that heart and sensibility. And then after they did The Matrix and became global superstars. They’re so talented, and I’m always happy to see films that they have created.”
Tilly being recognized with the Angel Award is a full-circle moment, as she has been a supporter of the L.A.-based organization since the ‘90s. Past recipients include Elizabeth Taylor, Sharon Stone, and Jamie Lee Curtis, just to name a few.
“I was just so touched and honored and thrilled because I have been working with them for over 30 years, but I never really thought that I would get an award like this because there are so many people that work for them,” Tilly said. “They have a lot of support from the celebrity community.”
When Project Angel Food was founded in 1989 by Marianne Williamson, the organization started out delivering food to people affected by HIV/AIDS. Tilly recalls that time in the world and the impact the charity made.
“I mean, we were all losing friends. People didn’t understand a lot about AIDS, so people afflicted with the disease were a little bit pariahs because people were afraid,” Tilly said. “So the idea of having a charity that delivers food to these people who are housebound — they’re not only delivering nourishment or physical sustenance, they’re also delivering emotional sustenance. Because for some of these people, the food delivery people are maybe the only people they see all week.”
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The documentary ‘Dear Viv’ tells the story of a Queen and her community
The Vivienne’s Drag Race sisters speak about her legacy and the impact of drug abuse on the LGBTQ+ community
In a year filled with hardships for the LGBTQ+ community, few days have been as collectively devastating as when it was announced that The Vivienne, winner of RuPaul’s Drag Race UK and international superstar, had passed away.
The Vivienne’s impact transcended borders; after winning the inaugural season of Drag Race UK, the Queen broke barriers with her performances in theater and television. In just a few years, she became a mainstay of international queer culture, a rise to stardom that Pete Williams’ documentary Dear Viv does its best to honor.
The doc gathers The Vivienne’s loved ones to speak about her impact on modern culture and how devastating it was to lose such a powerful light in their lives. The feature is a beautiful memorial of a life taken too soon — and it’s also a call-to-action. Because the documentary details how The Vivienne’s struggles with addiction led to her death, it hopes to not only commemorate a legend but raise awareness of the rampant drug abuse that fills the queer community.
The Los Angeles Blade got the chance to sit down with some of the other UK stars featured in the documentary to hear not only what The Vivienne meant to them, but what they hope this legacy can do for thousands of LGBTQ+ individuals today.
“We always knew she was destined to be a star…and just to see her achieve her dreams, it couldn’t have happened to a better person,” said Michael Marouli, runner-up of Drag Race UK season five and long-time friend of The Vivienne. It was a sentiment shared by not only her close friends, but the late performer’s thousands of fans; viewers first met The Vivienne when she strutted onto Drag Race UK season one, marvelling with her talent before eventually winning and becoming the country’s first Drag Superstar. “Everything that she did from her crown onwards, she did it to the utmost excellence,” agreed Cheryl Hole, another series alumni who spoke in the documentary. “From her TV work to her theater runs…I knew the future was just going to be so bright and so full for her.”
And it was a bright future indeed, as The Vivienne’s tenure on Drag Race was followed up with appearances in other hit UK shows, features in multiple popular films, and even a starring role in the West End’s production of The Wizard of Oz. The early portion of Dear Viv highlights these successes and the hard work it took to achieve them, following its central figure as she grew from a teenager performing underage at drag bars to the iconic Queen fans know her as today. It emphasizes how she paved the way for so many other queer celebrities, making it all the more gut-wrenching when viewers remember what is to follow all this success.
Advocates have been speaking up for decades about the disastrous impact hard drugs have on the LGBTQ+ community. Since the 1970s, studies have shown how party-centric venues, being some of the only inclusive spaces, combined with mainstream society’s mistreatment of queer folk, make LGBTQ+ people particularly vulnerable to drug and alcohol addiction. It’s what has led queer communities to have some of the highest rates of drug addiction in the world — yet since this problem has gone largely unaddressed, many of the people facing this addiction are left to deal with these issues in solitude.
Dear Viv not only details the Queen’s multi-year struggle with addiction and the relapse that led to her death, but also how loved ones are using her legacy to save others from fighting their demons alone. The Vivienne’s blood sister, Chanel Williams, is leading the charge; not only has she appeared on numerous talk shows raising awareness around the dangers of ketamine, but she has created the House of The Vivienne, an addiction support group working to combat drug addiction in the UK’s queer community.
“I truly believe what Viv’s family are doing right now is incredible,” said Cheryl Hole, the usually sardonic Queen growing serious when discussing this important advocacy. “[This is] a place where people can come for narcotics, anonymous support, and truly take away the stigma of using drugs.” It’s a goal that has gone worldwide; in the months since The Vivienne’s death advocacy organizations across the U.S. have spotlighted the harmful impact of drug addiction and the role we all play in assisting LGBTQ+ people through recovery. It’s unfortunate that these resources were not available when The Vivienne herself needed them, but it’s why her loved ones are determined to help the countless others they know are struggling through the same fight she did.
Beyond anything else, Dear Viv is a heartwrenching, uplifting memoriam for someone who truly changed LGBTQ+ representation for the better. “Whether she was talking, whether she was performing, whether she was just there visually as a gorgeous presence, you were in safe hands with her,” continued Hole, tearfully describing how it was The Vivienne showing viewers that LGBTQ+ performers were just like them which allowed other UK Queens to achieve similar fame. And when it comes to her struggles with drug abuse and the advocacy her death has spurned on, the Queens echo in interview the documentary’s mission statement: reach out. There is help available even when it seems like there’s not, and people like The Vivienne’s family are fighting to make these resources more visible every single day.
While the entire documentary embodies this message of seeking help, nobody articulates it better than Michael Marouli themself. “I promise you it gets better when you speak to somebody,” said the Queen tearfully as her interview came to a close. “I can imagine how scary it is and how you might feel alone, but once you speak to someone, it does get better — I promise. So please, please, please, if you are struggling, seek the help you need. And there are people out there who are willing to do the work to get you where you need to be beautiful.”
A statement that The Vivienne would be proud of.
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David Hernandez on sobriety, vulnerability, and the power of music to heal
In honor of National Alcohol and Drug Addiction Recovery Month, American Idol finalist David Hernandez opens up about his own journey from addiction through sobriety and the importance of visibility, vulnerability, and community in the recovery process.
Fans remember David Hernandez as the velvet-voiced finalist who lit up American Idol season 7, but behind the glam of the bright lights is an artist on a deeply personal journey. In this candid convo, Hernandez opens up about sobriety, the healing power of music, and why vulnerability might just be the bravest thing you can wear (aside from sunscreen). With his latest single, “Feel It All,” Hernandez is hitting emotional truths and offering a bit of hope to anyone who’s ever felt like they were singing solo.
September is National Alcohol and Drug Addiction Recovery Awareness Month. What does that mean to you personally, and why is it important to bring public awareness to it?
It means a lot to me as someone who’s in recovery. There’s still a lot of stigma around admitting you have a problem, whether it’s alcoholism or addiction. Vulnerability is difficult because people can weaponize it, and that makes honesty really scary. It takes a lot of bravery and truth to be strong enough to share your story publicly.
I think it’s beautiful that there’s a month dedicated to people living with this affliction. It gives us visibility, and it gives others, who may not understand addiction, the chance to learn more. Awareness fosters empathy, and empathy leads to change.
Your single “Feel It All” explores themes of emotional pain and self-reclamation. How has acceptance played a role in your healing?
When you live in your truth and authenticity, you finally give yourself space to process and unpack trauma, whether it’s childhood, young adult, or current-day trauma. And there’s a lot of it just from existing in the world.
The hardest part is often being honest with yourself. We’re conditioned to push things down so we can hustle, present well, and avoid vulnerability. But being honest, with yourself first, starts the healing process. That honesty is the crux of recovery.
For me, it’s not just about being in recovery, but about being a man who came from a single-parent household, with addiction in the family and a lot of unhealed wounds. When I started owning my story, I stopped relying on unhealthy coping mechanisms, like alcohol, drugs, sex, sugar, or even external validation. Now, I’m learning how to cope in a healthy, sustainable way.
You originally created “Feel It All” as a form of personal therapy. What made you decide to release it publicly?
Honestly, I still go back and forth, even now I’m like, “Should I be saying all this?” As an artist, there’s always some level of doubt.
But like Nina Simone said, “It’s the artist’s duty to reflect the times.” That includes our internal worlds too. If I’m feeling something deeply, chances are, thousands, if not millions, of others are feeling it too.
The song started on a treadmill, literally. I was at the gym and began writing melodies in my head. I called my friend Trump Park, who produced my last album Don’t @ Me (2022), and invited him over. Normally, we’d open a bottle of tequila while working, but this time, we drank soda water with lime and just vibed.
I didn’t intend to release it. But when I played it for a few people and saw them crying—not because they were sad for me, but because they related, I realized it wasn’t just about me. It was healing me, and maybe it could help heal someone else too.
That’s the beauty of authenticity; it resonates. “Feel It All” isn’t sugar-coated. The first verse asks, “Who am I without the substances?” It’s honest and raw. And I hope it reaches someone, maybe a young kid in Middle America who doesn’t have the resources or the representation I lacked growing up.
Speaking of representation, the music video embraces themes of vulnerability and community. Why was it important to include that visually, and how has community shaped your own recovery?
Community has been everything for me. Growing up biracial, half Mexican, half white, I often felt like I was straddling two worlds. I also knew I was gay from a young age, and I didn’t see anyone in the media who looked, acted, or felt like me. There wasn’t representation for people like me, biracial, queer, artistic, emotional.
The video includes drag nuns from the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, who work to de-stigmatize religion in the LGBTQ+ community, especially for those of us with religious trauma. It also features people from different backgrounds, ages, identities, and inferred traumas. It was important to me to reflect the diversity of recovery and the shared humanity underneath it all.
Representation matters. It allows people to feel seen, which makes healing possible. We’re wired for connection. What better way to connect than to recognize that our similarities far outweigh our differences?
What’s one common misconception about sobriety or recovery you’d like to clear up?
That it’s a choice. It’s not.
Addiction is a disease. I’ve seen incredibly successful people with full lives succumb to it, not because they didn’t love their lives, but because the disease doesn’t discriminate.
People often say, “Why can’t they just stop?” If it were that easy, everyone would stop. But it’s not about willpower, it’s about mental illness, trauma, and brain chemistry. It requires treatment, support, compassion, and community.
You mentioned relapse. What would you say to someone who just relapsed yesterday and is struggling with shame?
I’d say: There is always a seat for you at the table of recovery.
Relapse doesn’t make you a failure. It’s part of the journey for many of us, including me. Shame isolates you, and isolation is what the disease wants, it wants you to stay silent and spiral.
Reach out to someone in the sober community and tell the truth: “I used again, and I need help.” That’s it. Let someone guide you to the next step, whether it’s a meeting or a conversation. Time isn’t a tool—whether it’s 10 days or 10 years, recovery is about today. Focus on this moment.
What are some daily practices that keep you grounded?
I start my day with the Serenity Prayer, sometimes five times a day. I get gratitude lists from sober friends and try to write my own when I can. I talk to my sponsor regularly, check in with others, and ask how they’re doing, because focusing on someone else helps me get out of my own head.
I exercise, lots of cardio and hiking. I cook. I have a skincare routine that’s like a ritual at night. I keep to-do lists with Sharpie markers, it helps keep my thoughts from running wild.
These are small things, but they’re meaningful. And when I stay grounded in routine, I stay further away from the chaos.
How has your music evolved throughout your sobriety journey?
I used to rely on a drink before studio sessions or performances, to calm my nerves. Now, I lean on meditation, prayer, and letting myself feel uncomfortable until the feeling passes. And guess what? I don’t die from it.
My relationship with music has deepened. I’m more intentional. I finish songs faster. I record at home. I feel more connected to the process, to the source. I think my higher power shows up in my creativity now.
That said, I still love my past catalog, it represents different parts of me. But now, I’m learning how to channel something more grounded, more real. And I think that shows in the music.
Do you see “Feel It All” as part of a larger project, or more of a standalone release?
Right now, I’m just letting it live and breathe. But next year is the 10-year anniversary of my single “Beautiful,” and we’re doing a remix with a special guest artist. “Feel It All” and “Beautiful” both promote healing and inclusivity, so they’d absolutely belong on the same album. Whether or not there’s a full project, they’re part of the same emotional journey.
What would you say to fans who are struggling with addiction but don’t yet see a way out?
There is a way out. It starts with honesty, with yourself and with someone you trust.
Help is available. At the end of the “Feel It All” music video, we list organizations that can offer support. Even if they can’t help directly, they can point you in the right direction. You’re not alone. You just have to take that first brave step and say, “I think I need help.”
If fans only remember one lyric from “Feel It All,” which would you want it to be?
The second verse:
“I don’t need someone to judge my past,
But the way I’m living just can’t last.
I’m tired of lying, to end up in a place where I’m dying.”
That lyric captures the pain and urgency of knowing you’re in trouble, but also the hope that comes from admitting it.
Another part says:
“And if I’m being honest with myself,
I’ve been doing things that ain’t good for my health.”
That line isn’t just about drugs or alcohol—it’s about everything we use to numb: sex, binge eating, validation. Anything for a quick dopamine hit. But none of that heals us.
Can you name a few of the support organizations listed in the video that fans can turn to?
Absolutely. Here are a few:
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline – Call or text 988
West Hollywood Recovery Center
And honestly, people can reach out to me. I’m happy to connect them with resources.
Check out the full video:
a&e features
C’mon, Dallas! Wesley Smoot brings Unleashed LGBTQ+ queer business conference & festival to the Lone Star State
Unleashed LGBTQ+ creator Wesley Smoot spills the (sweet) tea on organizing a queer cultural movement deep in the heart of Texas.
The Los Angeles Blade is trading palm trees for cowboy boots as Publisher Alexander Rodriguez heads deep into the heart of Texas for Unleashed LGBTQ+, Dallas’s unapologetically queer answer to your typical business and entertainment conference (queue Chappell Roan’s Pink Pony Club dance remix). Founded by the ever-hustling and ever-bustling Wesley Smoot, Unleashed is where LGBTQ+ thought leaders, disruptors, celebs, and creatives kiki and coalesce to mix strategy with sass, all while redefining what it means to lead and live ever-loud and ever-proud in today’s rather regressive social climate. At a time when queerness is still being legislated, debated, and silenced, Unleashed LGBTQ+ is jacking up the volume full blast. And the Blade is here and queer for it. Let’s get a little unleashed with Wesley Smoot.
Unleashed is quite the queer powerhouse. What was the moment or impetus that birthed the idea to create Unleashed LGBTQ?
I saw so many impressive queer artists and entrepreneurs doing amazing work, and I felt that if there was a platform to amplify all their latest projects, how impactful that would be. It was around 2019, and I was writing a review about a vodka brand, and it hit me – let’s work to feature all these people in one place. We can learn about these projects, products, and ideas, and attendees can connect with one another at the same time.
How does Unleashed challenge the narrative of what it means to be queer in Texas, especially in a city like Dallas, which has such a unique queer history?
Dallas really does have a history! And I think it’s great to pull people in to see what a vibrant queer history that is. Places like S4 and Round Up Saloon have been around forever! As for Unleashed, many of the people coming into Dallas for the event are not aware that it has the sixth-largest LGBTQ+ population in the nation. When they see the scene, they’re often surprised. When they hear a lot of our stories, I think they’re surprised but also inspired.
You’ve made yourself quite committed to championing underserved communities. How do you incorporate that passion into Unleashed’s programming and partnerships?
We aim to host discussions about things we feel are relevant. I think this can be tough because when it comes to equality, some of these conversations can be depressing. No less, there are issues we need to address and conversations we need to have. Discussions about marketing, media, culture, and entertainment can be educational and entertaining. We always make sure to include non-profit organizations like HRC and The Trevor Project.
Unleashed was created as a virtual event during the pandemic, then became an in-person festival in Dallas in September 2023. What lessons did you learn from that virtual-to-live transition?
I had more experience with live events. I actually had to teach myself how to run the back-end of a virtual event – this was a very intense crash course. Learning many new skills in a very short amount of time was difficult, but it’s funny how much confidence that can give you moving forward. I do think that starting with virtual gave me a much clearer idea of how I wanted to format the programming.
Half of 2025 ticket revenue is going to the Human Rights Campaign. What motivated this charitable move?
I have always admired the work HRC does. But really, I think when people see that there is a fun, cool event that is benefiting a cause that they believe in, it makes it a lot easier to get their attention and motivate them to join us for a fabulous event.
As we touched on, the Dallas–Fort Worth area has a strong LGBTQ+ history, with roots dating back to early pride parades and growing grassroots activism. How does Unleashed add to or impact the local Queer community and scene?
I think we add to it by sparking conversations on live stages through panel discussions. Some of those conversations have a lot to do with LGBTQ+ history, non-profits and the impactful work they do, queer artists and the new projects they want to promote. We bring a lot of these people together, whether local or flying them in or getting the locals involved. Dallas has so many heavy-hitters in the non-profit and entertainment sectors.
Unleashed combines business networking, entertainment, advocacy, and culturally relevant brand activations. Why is it important to have this intersectional space, especially in today’s intense political climate?
I think it’s important to talk about how this political climate is affecting us all, even if we are in different industries. LGBTQ+ is the common thread at Unleashed, and when attendees connect at our events, they can see and share their experiences with each other. I know a lot of people have found business opportunities at Unleashed, but also support systems.
Queer folks in the South have always had a different kind of resilience. How does Unleashed highlight the Southern queer spirit that often gets overlooked?
I feel like there has been some representation in the media to show the rest of the world about the gay South when you look at Drag Race, True Blood, and other television programs, but I would love to see more. So much of that resilience comes from queer folks who grew up in small towns and had to deal with bullies, their parents’ expectations, or the church. Those experiences stay with us forever. They contribute to making us who we are, for better or worse. I like to think the events we host have plenty of that southern flavor. It’s more important than ever to feel that we have a safe space.
Texas has not always been seen as the most welcoming place for LGBTQ+ folks and yet here we are, throwing a super queer extravaganza in the heart of it. What does that say about where we are as a culture and where we are headed?
That’s a tough one. I got chewed out in the comments section on Linkedin, someone telling me: “How dare you throw this event in Texas with everything going on there?!!” I replied, “Because of everything going on, it’s more important now than ever to host these events in Texas, or Florida, or anywhere else that people may need a safe place to get together and connect.”
I live in Texas. Should I plan an event of this size in a place I don’t live? Seems counterproductive to me, but we are very proud to host this in Texas. I have met people from all over Texas and the surrounding states. Since we do so much with entertainment, it is great to see the people who come in from New York and LA as well. I hope Unleashed LGBTQ+ can continue to grow as an event and as an organization, and I hope the tolerance and acceptance in the Lone Star State continue to grow with us. We’re not going anywhere.
The Los Angeles Blade will be on site for Unleashed LGBTQ SEPTEMBER 19-21, 2025 | DALLAS, TX Get your tickets here
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Los Angeles partners with Hyperion LA and LatiNation to present a free, entertainment industry mixer for the queer community
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Pride & protest in Palm Springs: Behind the man who crafts queer joy as resistance
Los Angeles partners with Hyperion LA and LatiNation to present a free, entertainment industry mixer for the queer community
Anger, resistance and unity coursed through L.A. City Hall “No Kings” protest
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