Arts & Entertainment
A non-binary Cuban artist is born again in Spain
Nonardo Perea suffered persecution in his homeland

MADRID, Spain — Nonardo Perea lives in Michel’s body. He uses it at will to be vulgar, angelic or diabolical, male or female. Nonardo can be whatever he wants. Michel, shy and withdrawn, hides behinds that alter ego that lends him his face and hands to show the world his claims as an artist.
Nonardo is an invention that comes to life in photographs, video art, performances, stories, installations, journalistic articles, ceramics, and whatever other format is possible, since Nonardo long ago lost any limits. His mind lost that ability as he reinvented himself as an empirical artist, as no one ever gave him the opportunity to attend art school.
He has been greatly misunderstood, mainly because his pieces overflowed with eroticism and Cuba is still too prudish to appreciate his queer art and his other works the regime has labeled as “politically incorrect.” Michel and Nonardo were discriminated against by society and the dictatorship that governs the country and represses anyone who does not agree with its dogmas.
Nonardo nevertheless overcame those barriers and began creating, without anyone’s guidance. He was first a writer and received some tools once he graduated from the Onelio Jorge Cardoso Literary Training Center in Havana. He won several competitions, such as the 2017 Franz Kafka Prize for his work “Los amores ejemplares” and the 2012 Félix Pita Rodríguez Prize for the novel “Donde el diablo puso la mano.”
In the visual arts, where he is usually very restless, he won the third prize for photography at the GendErotica Festival for “La casa por la ventana 2014” with his Vulgarmente Clásica project. He participated in the Bienal 00, organized by independent artists, with his “En la cama con Nonardo” project and presented Vulgarmente Clásica at Madrid’s La Neomudéjar Museum in 2019.
Nonardo belongs to the San Isidro Movement, a group of independent artists and intellectuals who fight for a democratic Cuba. That battle has also been fought through his art and in pursuit of LGBTQ rights, such as marriage and adoption rights for same-sex couples, and an end to gender violence that remains a problem on the island.

Due to his work and political activism for a truly democratic Cuba, Nonardo suffered police harassment and Cuban state security agents threatened him with jail. Fearing for his life, he took refuge in Spain, a country where he feels he has been reform and from which he speaks with the Los Angeles Blade.
LOS ANGELES BLADE: Those who follow your art on social networks and off of them know you as Nonardo, but few know that your real name is Michel. How and why was Nonardo Perea born?
NONARDO PEREA: I remember starting my writing career and I needed another name that was not so common. I did a big search and I didn’t like any of them. I wanted a unique name if possible. One afternoon I was sitting in the living room of my house with my father and I told him about the need for a name. It was he who proposed Nonardo. At first it sounded a bit ugly to me, but then with Perea it seemed a little better. It had strength. I liked it because it began with “no”, denial, and was followed by “nardo”, flower, that is, Nonardo had a lot to do with me. Since then I started using it for all of my work, both literary and audiovisual.
BLADE: How does your artistic training take into account that you are an empirical creator?
PEREA: My artistic creation from the beginning was always very complicated, taking into account that I had to abandon my studies at an early age for inclusion reasons, so I have no academic training; then add to that that I am a very obvious gay. At one point in my teens I was seen as a person who was too feminine. The fact of looking like a woman was a problem when trying to fit in a macho and homophobic society. Where I first tried to break through was in writing. I started by attending literary workshops, where I won several contests quite quickly. I was never exempt from criticism and rejection of the themes that my narrations addressed, which almost always focused on LGBTQ issues and dirty realism. Many times I felt that being the way I am made many uncomfortable. But despite the rejections and bad times that I lived in various periods of my life, I continued doing narrative, and I also began to write articles about social issues for the Havana Times digital newspaper. Then, over time, I had the opportunity to apply to a video journalism workshop in Prague organized by the People in Need organization, and thanks to a woman I love very much, Clara González, who saw some potential in me, I was accepted to participate in the course, in which I learned some video editing, and received help with equipment that helped me to start doing audiovisual work with better quality. All my creative works have been done empirically, and above all I am an artist who works based on improvisation.
BLADE: You have ventured into artistic genres as different as writing, journalism and acting. How do you define yourself as an artist and why?
PEREA: I am a person who cannot be inactive. I spend every day of my life thinking about doing something new. Sometimes I have so many things on my mind, and the fact that I can’t do everything I want to do makes me feel a bit frustrated. I have no words to define myself, I can only say that in some way my creative processes have helped me to cope with the life that I had to live, everything I have done and do has served as a way of escape from reality and everyday life, I could no longer live without creating.
BLADE: In a recent interview you precisely declared that your art was a process of liberating yourself. What exactly do you free yourself from when you create?
PEREA: I free myself from the day-to-day, the everyday, my fears and censorship.
BLADE: In most of your visual works you work with your own image. Why?
PEREA: I use myself as an artistic object because in Cuba I lived in solitude for a long time. I somehow isolated myself and created a space of comfort in my home, a place where I felt more free. The confinement somehow helped me to stay away from society that did not tire of making me feel bad about my obvious homosexual condition in much of my youth. My literary proposals and art in general, on the other hand, were not taken into account. I always perceived that most people underestimated me, and proposing someone to collaborate with me on erotic photographs without receiving anything in return was complicated, and still is. I have control over my body. If I want to undress in a photo or in a video, even if I feel sorry, I strip myself of complexes and do it. If I want to take a photograph that is too vulgar, I also do it. I do not have to request permission from anyone to do so. I don’t put up barriers. I take a risk, then I think that they say what they want. I understand that I am doing a job where I express my personal and social problems, as a human being.
BLADE: You identify yourself as an androgynous person. How many difficulties has that brought you considering that you have lived most of your life and developed your work in Cuba, a country where macho and homophobic ideals still predominate?
PEREA: I consider myself a non-binary androgynous person, because I do not identify with any sex. I can feel at ease as a girl as well as a boy. I have no problem with male or female pronouns. I do not like to victimize myself, but I can tell you that the road has been very difficult, and it has been not only for me, but for many other gays and lesbians who have chosen not to hide their sexual identity in their lives and have had to fight against the world. Being who I am in Cuba has not helped me much in terms of being able to be recognized for my work, but being who I am has helped me to strengthen myself and to understand that I do not need the approval of any institution to continue creating. I am a Cuban artist and like it or not, a large part of my work was created in Cuba.
BLADE: Many Cuban artists prefer to separate their creations from politics and even refuse to give their true judgment on the situation on the island. However, your work has a high dose of activism against the dictatorship and in defense of LGBTQ rights. What consequences, professional and personal, has being an artist labeled by the Cuban regime as “counterrevolutionary” brought you?
PEREA: The main consequence is that I had to go into exile; leave the country where I was born, abandon my mother and family, my friends, my dogs and a lifetime. But I think it had to be that way. There was no other way than to say goodbye, because under no circumstances was I going to allow my creative processes to stop, and above all I was going to continue doing my activism. I know that perhaps I was not going to be able to withstand so much pressure from state security agents, who wanted me to collaborate with them to expose my colleagues from the San Isidro Movement. If I returned to Cuba right now, I don’t know what my life would have been like from that moment on. If being a counterrevolutionary means saying what I think, and being in favor of oppressed minorities, and being against a dictatorship that has left Cuba and its people in a nameless misery for 61 years, then I am a counterrevolutionary and with great honor. I have nothing for which to thank that country, where I was always seen as a freak, and what little I got was thanks to my effort and dedication, because while in Cuba I received criticism and obstacles for everything, for this reason they are collecting what they sowed with me, they do not expect roses from me.
BLADE: In Cuba, to be accepted as part of the official LGBTQ movement you have to share the ideology of the dictatorship, the same one that put equal marriage to a popular vote and represses independent activists. In your opinion, what are the dangers of “politicizing” the struggle of the Cuban gay movement?
PEREA: The danger is in seeing how it becomes politicized. While in Cuba, I never stopped going to the marches staged by CENESEX (the National Center for Sexual Education) and I will not forget how Mariela Castro (CENESEX’s director and the daughter of former Cuban President Raúl Castro) herself politicized those mini-carnival marches with slogans in favor of the five spies imprisoned in the Empire (a reference to the U.S.), and with cries of “socialism yes and homophobia no.” I do not remember seeing any gay or lesbian carrying a sign demanding equal marriage, or demanding freedoms, or a law against gender violence. It is really pathetic considering that the system itself is the number one cause of the persistence of homophobia and constant abuse of people from the community, mainly transgender people, in Cuba, a country where your rights are constantly violated, either because of race or sexual orientation. Those marches were politicized by CENESEX itself in favor of a supposed socialism, which has never worked and will never work because that is a hybrid between communism and underdeveloped capitalism, and we all know that it is nothing other than a dictatorship, and of the crudest in history because it has managed to last for 61 years. If Mariela Castro and all her loyal followers politicize the march for their benefit, I don’t see why the community cannot independently arm its own fight in favor of the most basic rights of the LGBTQ community in Cuba.

BLADE: In what way has the forced exile that you have faced in Spain changed your work?
PEREA: Right now I continue to do what I want to do, regardless of being in Spain. I still feel that I am in Cuba. My vision as an artist has not changed much. I’ve only been here a year and seven months, although I believe that wherever I am, in some way my work will be linked to that of the island because I have not yet cut that umbilical cord that links me to the place where I was born and took my first steps. It is true that one acquires other mechanisms of creation and invoicing in the work while abroad, but at the moment I do not think that the focus of my work has changed much because of being in another country. Of course, here in Europe there are other problems that I may be able to take advantage of, but be that as it may, they will be appreciated from the perspective of an exiled Latin American artist.
BLADE: On a personal level, what has it been like to be a gay immigrant in Europe?
PEREA: I am very grateful for Spain, mainly for Madrid, which is the place where I have lived since I arrived in 2019. At the moment, I have not felt discriminated against because of my sexual orientation or because I am a foreigner. I have received emotional and legal support from the NGO Rescate, which welcomed me and where I have received the care that I never had in my own country. With all the social and political problems that may exist, it is in this country where I have somehow been able to know what true freedom is.
BLADE: What can we expect from Nonardo Perea in the near future?
PEREA: I am in another difficult moment in my life right now, because I cannot find a job, and I do not receive any money for my artistic work, so what I do is for the love of art and because I cannot stop building my own world. The COVID situation has managed to make things more difficult, not only for me but for everyone, but taking into account that I am an exile and that I have been here for a short time, it is very complicated. Even so, I eventually continue to make video art for the Vulgarmente Clásica audiovisual project, which I have been doing for several years. And more recently I started with a new project, “Maricón Tropical: Living in Madrid”, this one is a bit more comprehensive not to call it ambitious because I insert various artistic manifestations: Performance, audiovisual, literature, drawing and photography, and it is focused on my new life as an exile in Madrid, everything seen from a self-referential point of view, as are almost all my proposals.
BLADE: If you had to create a work that describes your life right now, what would it be like?
PEREA: I consider that my life, my true life, has started now, what it was before was not. For the purposes I was born on March 19, 2019, when I set foot in Spain. All the past is left behind. I want to imagine that the past was a bad dream. My “Maricón Tropical: Living in Madrid” project is a work that somehow reflects that past, which is unfortunately impossible to forget and it is also good that people know what that other life was like, but I focus more on the present, my current problems as a person who faces a new life as an adult who feels like a newborn. I can only tell you that my life’s work is in progress.

a&e features
From the bedroom to Broadway: Sterling Tull and the many faces of ‘Rocky Horror’
Makeup designer stays true to the characters in ‘Rocky Horror’ while giving them her own eclectic style
NEW YORK – Before Sterling Tull was creating the makeup for Rocky Horror Broadway Revival, its mad scientist, Dr. Frank-N-Furter, was watching over her bedroom from a poster on the wall. Purchased by her mother, the poster hung there from the time Tull was 13 until she was 18, offering a glimpse into a world where self-expression was something to celebrate.
Now, as makeup designer and makeup artist for the Broadway show, Tull, a queer transgender artist, brings that world to life eight shows a week. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel real,” Tull tells the Blade. “I would’ve killed for this job, and I know many others would have too, so I feel very very lucky and blessed.”
The opportunity arrived in a fittingly theatrical fashion: on Halloween night. Tony-nominated costume designer David Reynoso reached out to interview Tull for the production. Given the incredible opportunity, Tull rightfully couldn’t believe what she was reading. “I thought the email was fake at first, ” she explained. “It turns out it wasn’t!”
From there, things fell into place. The email led to an interview, and the interview led to a job, giving Tull the opportunity to translate a deeply personal attachment into an artistic vision. Long before joining the production, she had found something in Rocky Horror that extended beyond its eclectic style and audacious characters: a community in which she could recognize herself.
“Over the years, I grew into the culture of Rocky Horror and felt safe in the community,” Tull tells the Blade. “It let me understand that I wasn’t so different, and that, as a little Mormon kid, I could be myself.”
That commitment to being herself now informs the faces audiences encounter onstage. Her challenge was to preserve the characters’ immediate recognizability while allowing for her artistic spin. Familiarity offers the starting point – Tull uses makeup to make it her own. “I wanted to honor the source material and what fans are expecting from a production of this size with huge audacious makeup looks that capture Club Kid New York culture, New Romantics, English trad goth, and 1970’s Studio 54 sleaze,” she tells the Blade.
The designs took shape through collaboration with Reynoso, hair designer Albee Alvarado, director Sam Pinkleton, and associate makeup designer Vee Sadiku, whom Tull affectionately calls her “best friend” and “work wife.” Yet even with that support, sharing her vision came with its own uncertainty. Tull explains, “I would say the scariest part is just hoping that both your collaborators and fans like what you’re creating.”
Behind the performance, however, is time, precision, and a practice shaped by attention to detail. Tull works at the theater six days a week, applying makeup to actors in a way that would be difficult for any makeup artist. She tells the Blade, “The makeup is incredibly ephemeral and applied in a time span that would challenge any makeup artist.”
None of Tull’s work is about ego or adding another credit to her resume. It is about honoring a performance and creating a moment for people to come together, laugh, and enjoy themselves. She respects all those involved, especially the actors who bring the show to life. “It is so important to respect where the actors are every day while honoring the integrity of the work,” Tull says.
Ultimately, the show will end, and the makeup will come off. The next performance will bring another round at the makeup table. Yet that temporary nature gives Tull’s work an intimacy: the world that once helped a young Rocky Horror fan feel welcome is now something she helps bring to life for others, one face at a time.
Follow Sterling on IG: @SterlingTullNYC.
Theater
Her royal ‘Travesty’: Sasha Velour dishes on her new show
The ‘RuPaul’s Drag Race’ winner chats about her artistic process and current cultural obsessions
Sasha Velour made an indelible mark on queer history when she pulled off her wig and rained rose petals down while lip-syncing to “So Emotional” by Whitney Houston. It increased streams of the song by 500% and changed the face of Drag Race, the lip-sync-for-the-win format, and cemented her place in the winner’s circle.
While she may not be a fixture in the Drag Race industrial complex of podcasts and television commentary, she’s opted to be a fixture in the art world. She toured with her queer revue NightGowns, which was turned into a limited television docu-series. She hosted and directed the first all-queer show in New York Fashion Week history. She was even one of the mentors on HBO’s We’re Here. In 2023, Velour even penned the book, The Big Reveal: An Illustrated Manifesto of Drag.
She’s become the face of the art form of incorporating projected images and videos and weaving them seamlessly in with her elaborate costumes and performances. A Vassar grad and former Fulbright Scholar, Velour has been one of the more cerebral winners of the franchise.
Her new show Travesty is coming to Los Angeles at The Wallis.
Travesty uses her signature style to explore the challenges of queer people from the 1500s to today, including a witch burning in a field, a clown building a theater, and an underground gay bar rising up against the police.
Velour took time out of her busy schedule to tell the Blade about her new show as well as give us insight into her process.
What was your inspiration for Travesty?
Every time I tour, I end up on a stage with history—an iconic gay club, a civic hall, a haunted theater, a converted synagogue. I’m usually not the first drag queen to perform there, which hopefully means I won’t be the “worst!” But that history is really a reminder that even though queer stories may not be widely known, they exist. We have been there. We have contributed positively to the world. And we will continue to do so no matter what.
Our history exists in fragments, woven into people’s memories, passed down through stories. Travesty is all about those stories, dedicated to the trailblazers and revolutionaries who came before, and our struggle to remember them and piece it all together.
Can you share the eponymous Travesty, or is it a spoiler?
The “Travesty” in this show is the name of one such gorgeous haunted theater, where the entire play is set. I portray all the queer ghosts who performed on its stage across time. They take “possession” of me to tell their stories. In some languages, “travesty” is what they call any drag queen or queer person. In English, the word means a mockery, a perversion. The “travesty” in that sense of the word is the fact that the abandoned old theater is about to be destroyed. So the “travesties” rise up and fight back. We have to preserve our icons!
You’ve popularized a unique style of projecting and mixing media in your performances. Can you share a bit about the genesis of that art form for you?
At first, I was using video projectors as a way to create lighting for my drag numbers because I had no control over my home gay bar’s tech. I just needed a flattering front spotlight! But it’s become so much more than that.
These days I get to integrate lighting, costume, choreography, and video all together as part of perfectly-tuned performances. But video is still my favorite tool for creating a big fantasy world with limited tools, which I think is really the essence of drag. In Travesty, all the video you see is custom-made, designed and edited by me, featuring a detailed miniature sculpture of “The Travesty Theater” that we aged and transformed to mark the passage of time.
Can you share a bit about your artistic journey?
My first love was “cross-dressing.” As a child, I wanted to wear a dress and wig as much as I wanted a suit and mustache because binary gender always struck me as theatrical. I wanted to play around with it to create my own combinations. Thankfully, my hippie parents were into it (even though my mom didn’t own any heels except a pair of 1960s tap shoes!)
That early freedom was my introduction to the arts, and showed me that self-expression not only helps you understand yourself and the world around you, but also creates moments of connection and joy. I always doubted that I had the skills to be an artist myself, so in college, I studied how to write about and analyze the arts instead.
That’s how I ended up in Russia, on a Fulbright scholarship! But it was actually there, meeting with Russian LGBTQ activists and hearing how important seeing queer representation in the arts was to them, that I realized how much I missed creating things myself, and saw an area where we needed more.
That experience also strengthened my love of pop culture, artwork available to the widest range of people. I saw that the most important, culture-shifting work often wasn’t happening in museums or theaters, but on TV, in pop music, in superhero comics, sometimes even in drag. Even though I should have always known I was a drag queen, it took me a while to circle back to it. You can read more about that chaotic journey in my book, The Big Reveal, available now from HarperCollins.
Speaking of being a Fulbright Scholar, you studied the connection of art and culture in Moscow, Russia. What are your thoughts on the current state of art in this country?
Oh, we’re definitely fucked. But there is some hope!
Mainstream art always gets policed and restricted and used for propaganda under fascist political leadership, so it’s no surprise we are seeing that now. Drag has been criminalized in several states. Artists are being blacklisted for voicing progressive political views. The daring work we were seeing on TV and on Broadway just 5 years ago is getting cancelled.
I would feel a lot more depressed if I hadn’t just researched the history of drag for my book The Big Reveal. History shows me that drag always exists; it just becomes more sneaky and political when it gets forced underground (which you will see dramatized in Travesty as well!) Even though politics is a pendulum and swings back through these conservative eras, I believe the dominant movement is always towards progress and freedom. When culture inevitably swings back, we will have come even further in terms of equality, liberation, and creativity for all people. But the current “backlash” reminds me that there’s still a lot of work to be done. And it’s up to all of us to do it.
What do you love to do when you’re in Los Angeles?
I think my biggest hobbies are food and architecture. I want to see haunted Art Deco buildings. I want to eat and drink! In LA, I’m always looking for the best vodka martini, the best mole enmoladas, and the best sundubu-jigae…we do good in NYC, but I feel like those are so much better in LA. So send me your recommendations!
If you could pull off your wig and magically shake out something into the world what would it be?
Same thing as always…an element of SURPRISE. It’s nice to remember that we can’t predict what’s coming next, that we have to stay flexible and curious!
What aspect of queer pop culture are you currently obsessed with?
I love a niche social drama. Last month, I was following the rural masked lesbian bar catastrophe. This month, it’s been Kelly Clarkson and the magic shop bird automaton. I never wish to participate in the discourse myself, but I love how surreal our world is sometimes. It inspires me to be more outrageous and absurd with my own choices.
You can catch Travesty on October 29th and 30th at The Wallis. You can purchase tickets at https://thewallis.org/show-details/sasha-velour-travesty.
Movies
With exquisite 4K restoration, ‘The Devils’ finally gets its due
The only devils are those who want to ‘Make France Catholic Again’
It’s rare for a movie that was made over a half-century before to somehow become one of the most anticipated film releases of the year, but thanks to Ken Russell’s “The Devils,” we know that it does happen.
It’s true that Russell’s legendarily controversial 1971 period horror drama might not be a familiar title to most mainstream movie-goers these days, but to the cinephile crowd, it’s something approaching the Holy Grail. The dramatization of a real-life 1634 incident that took place in the French city of Loudun, it crossed boundaries and broke taboos with its depictions of grotesque violence, unfettered nudity, and “blasphemous” imagery – so much so that objections from UK censors led Warner Bros. (which had financed the British production of the film) to remove several of its most provocative scenes before release. Though Russell was riding the wave of a successful career that had resulted in worldwide renown, he was given no say in the matter, and the edited version – which was still widely banned in parts of the UK and other countries, and released in the U.S. with even further cuts – was lambasted by most critics as over-the-top, sensationalized, or even “obscene.”
Even so, there were many critics and viewers alike who recognized the daring vision behind all that on-screen depravity; through the years, calls for the un-edited “director’s cut” of the film began to grow as various other truncated versions continued to circulate, gaining new fans with each new generation of movie buffs. Russell himself, before his death in 2011, created a restored print of the version he had intended, but Warner Bros. refused to allow its distribution.
Now, the seemingly repentant studio – under the auspices of its newly branded Warner Clockwork label – has finally come around, and “The Devils” has returned with a newly restored 4K cut (created directly from the film’s original camera negatives) that not only rejuvenates its visuals – such as the brilliance of the visual design, dominated by the oppressively white architecture of Loudun as designed by future pioneering queer filmmaker Derek Jarman – but restores the material that was cut; it reveals the brilliance of a film that had, until now, felt disjointed despite its obvious promise – and the timing could not be more perfect, because it’s also a film that feels perfect for our time.
Full of superb performances and an immersive sense of period oppression, it tells the story of Urbain Grandier (played by Oliver Reed, here at the peak of his brooding-but-charismatic appeal after a series of high-profile hits), a high-ranking local priest who, as de facto leader of his town, stood up against the French government – then controlled by an alliance between aristocratic royalty and the powerful church – in its ongoing effort to purge the kingdom of Protestants and restore Catholic rule over France during the Huguenot Wars of the 17th century. Proud, rational, and heretical in his beliefs (especially around sex), Grandier is widely known for his affairs with noblewomen of the town, and rumors of his beauty and sexual prowess spread even into the cloistered halls of the town’s convent, where the Mother Superior, hunchbacked Sister Jeanne (Vanessa Redgrave), is overwhelmed with lustful thoughts about him. Consumed by jealousy when she learns of his secret (and technically illegal) marriage to another woman, she accuses him of making a pact with the Devil and causing the demonic possession of herself and many of her nuns – a claim which puts him in the crosshairs of his political enemies in the larger world, where ambitious Cardinal Richelieu (Christopher Logue) has dreams of imposing Catholic rule over France by consolidating the church with the government of frivolous King Louis XIII (Graham Armitage). Determined to stand firm with his conscience against the accusations against him, Grandier endures a “show trial” that becomes more public spectacle than justice, with the supposedly possessed nuns (and other opportunistic denizens of the town) indulging in orgiastic demonstrations of their afflictions before the court. Ultimately convicted and sentenced to be burned at the stake, he becomes (spoiler alert) a martyr for enlightenment in the most horrific way imaginable, and his young bride (Gemma Jones) is left to wander the macabre no-man’s land wrought by Theocratic Nationalism on her own as the final credits role.
It’s a pretty bleak picture, and that bleakness has nothing to do with the excesses we’ve seen before it — the performative histrionics of the possessed nuns or the feverish sexually repressed fantasies of Sister Jeanne, or even the callous brutality of the ruling authority – personified not only by Armitage’s brilliantly vapid Louis XIII, a fey and foppish hedonist who opens the film with a macabrely campy ballet depicting the birth of Venus (played by himself), but by the “enforcers” tasked with carrying out his will, like Dudley Sutton’s callously officious Baron de Laubardemont and Michael Gothard’s gleefully sadistic chief “witch hunter,” Father Pierre Barre, who might easily be a popular conservative influencer on TikTok today.
Nor does the film’s sense of ominous dread come from the trappings of excess and occultism that surround Grandier’s ordeal. Yes, the imagery is outrageous, and aggressively in-your-face; there are scenes of explicit nudity, and orgiastic sex, of rape, torture, the ravages of disease and sickening violence, all delivered with a blood-drenched relish that feels shocking even today, and it all culminates in a horrific finale that’s sure to leave you with nightmares for at least a few days afterward; the real horror comes from recognizing the patterns at work as Grandier attempts to protect his town and preserve its independence from the forces of theocratic autocracy, because at this point they have become all too shockingly familiar.
It’s a frank depiction of political corruption, a candid examination of the tactics of fascism (yes, THAT word) in a true story that takes place centuries before the term was ever coined. It explores the ease with which mass hysteria can be created among the ignorant, brainwashed, and attention-starved, and the cruelty of mankind upon itself under the flimsy pretense of ideology, all in the bald-faced pursuit of power and control. In 2026, all of that feels much more disturbing than any of the supposed “supernatural” horrors of which Grandier is accused. In the end, the only devils in “The Devils” are the human ones who want to “Make France Catholic Again.”
Theater
‘WOOF’ worthy: Christopher Schellenger shares the unique challenges of playing a dog
The actor discusses his new play WOOF!, pup culture, and his time on America’s Next Top Model
Everyone is familiar with Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Cats. Whether you know all the lyrics to “Memory,” or have seen Dame Judy Dench and Taylor Swift in the critically panned movie version, we know after decades that cats work in theater, but what about dogs?
Theater gets the canine treatment in Odyssey Theatre’s new play WOOF!. This is a revived version of last winter’s critically acclaimed comedy Go Play. Actor Christopher Schellenger returns to the stage as Zeus.
The play tackles the drama and intricacies of the lives of three dogs who meet at their local neighborhood dog park. Schellenger is the only cast member to reprise his role in this new iteration.
It’s not surprising considering Schellenger is a triple threat. He’s a singer, actor, and visual artist and a member of the faculty at Margie Haber Studio. So maybe make that a quadruple threat.
The young actor whose credits include HBO’s Hacks, the comedy Idiotka, and Lindsey Lohan’s porn-adjacent drama The Canyons was thrilled to chat with the Blade about his role, his career, which includes a stint with Tyra on America’s Next Top Model, and his current cultural obsessions.
What can you tell us about WOOF!?
WOOF! is a comedy about 3 dogs and their owners. The dogs? They’ve got this world all figured out. The humans? Eh..
It’s an inside look into what our four-legged friends are thinking when their humans aren’t aware- how they take care of us. Additionally, into the lives of the humans who think they’re the ones taking care of the dogs. In the end, we all need and deserve love!

It’s a follow-up to Go Play? How is it different?
The incomparable Barra Grant has reworked the original Go Play! into WOOF! With a whole new cast, aside from myself. WOOF is more exploratory into the dreams of the dogs and their relationships to their owners. We have upgraded our set design and present a whole new ending to boot!
How does it feel coming back?
It’s been incredible to gel with this new cast and find a different vibe within the same character! I feel energized by the audience and their love of dogs!
How would you describe your character, Zeus the Poodle?
Zeus, “King of the Gods,” is a show poodle who won Westminster. Zeus isn’t afraid to tell it like it is, keep civility and educate fellow canines on the ways of the humans and often their shortcomings. Zeus is non-binary, uses they/them pronouns, and is staunchly opposed to bigotry. We have a lot in common, actually!
What’s it like playing a dog?
It has been quite the acting challenge! I’m even “singing” as a dog! The body and behavior is a big part of acting. This role has me looking at the world from a whole new perspective… up and on all fours.
Having played a dog two times, what are your thoughts on the pup community in kink culture?
I just know they must have strong knees and ankles! Performing on all fours is a challenge I commend anyone on!

What are some of your dream acting roles?
I’m dreaming of playing a historic figure like River Phoenix or James Dean. Anyone really. I love to really sink my teeth into a role and “become” that person. I had the opportunity to play the great Robert Mapplethorpe, and it was such an honor to step into those shoes. I also love comedy; a queer sitcom would be ideal. Call me!
Are you actually a dog person?
Absolutely. I am a lover of all animals! I have 2 dogs: Minnie- a Chorkie (Chihuahua/Yorkie) and Looie a ChiPin (Chihuahua/Miniature Pinscher) both of them rescues. They truly are the light of my life!
Anything about your character that has stayed with you?
Zeus’s bravery- facing adversity with a proud chest and a wag of the tail.
In 2013, you were on America’s Next Top Model. Did you feel vindicated or seen by the documentaries that have come out?
I was! The documentaries were definitely interesting and I feel there are even more stories that weren’t told. Tyra fought for me early on, and I won’t forget that. I have to remember; it’s a TV show about a modeling competition not a modeling competition that’s televised. Within that context, I played a role that I’m proud of. Do I wish it could’ve been different (and even won)? Absolutely.
Any funny memories from ANTM you’d like to share?
I was trying to hula-hoop in the living room in front of everyone to no avail. On the last try, it stayed up, and everyone cheered! I was like, “Oh yeah, I got this finally!” When there’s a tap on my shoulder. I turn around, and Tyra Banks is right there behind me! I was startled and flew across the floor. There’s even a GIF of it.
What is your current queer-culture obsession?
Drag. I’ve been doing drag since I could choose the right pump for my mom’s cobalt blue shift dress. Currently I’m obsessed with Lushious Massacr! I love the way she’s using her humor and talent to inspire, educate, and gag the dolls! In these times, I choose to lean into my queerness and embrace our rich LGBTQIA+ culture. We aren’t going anywhere.
What are your favorite things to do in LA?
I love the ocean! I’m a water baby, I grew up on the water. I could swim and body surf all day!! I also love the WeHo Halloween Carnaval- I plan for months to show up and show out!
You just might spot Schellenger at West Hollywood’s Halloween carnival but you can catch him in WOOF! Saturdays at 2pm and 7pm and Sundays at 2pm from October 3 to November 8 at Odyssey Theatre, 2055 S. Sepulveda Blvd. , Los Angeles, CA 90025.
Tickets are now on sale at OdysseyTheatre.com
a&e features
A Parvesh perspective: Actor Parvesh Cheena talks his roles in ‘Wives’
The actor talks about his new play, being South Asian in Hollywood, and the future
When you see Parvesh Cheena, there is a 90% chance you’ll recognize him from something. You may have seen him on the new Frasier, My Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, or in co-star roles he’s had in sitcoms and movies. Or you might recognize his voice from countless cartoons and animated series. He’s gearing up to play multiple roles in the new play, Wives.
Wives features a primarily South Asian cast and travels from 16th-century France to 1920s India and 1960s Idaho to highlight the perspective and experiences of women who’ve changed history but are often overlooked. Cheena plays the token Man and lends his comedic sensibilities to multiple roles.
Directed by Hypokrit Live Arts NYC co-founder Arpita Mukherjee, this comedy comes at an interesting political moment with South Asian American women making history in both parties, Nithya Raman in the 2026 mayoral race. This play launches the 61st mainstage season East West Players (EWP), the nation’s largest and longest-running Asian American
Theater. It’s penned by prolific playwright Jaclyn Backhaus and co-founder of the New York City arts company Fresh Ground Pepper.
Cheena has been a face of AAPI visibility. He starred in Outsourced, a mostly South Asian sitcom that paved the way for shows like Never Have I Ever and Deli Boys. He’s played both stereotypical South Asian characters and people who just happen to be of South Asian descent.
The animated actor with a quick wit and gregarious nature took time to chat with the Blade about his hot takes on Hollywood, being South Asian and gay, and his excitement about his new play.
What can you tell me about Wives?
Wives is a wonderful work of theatre and storytelling by Jaclyn Backhaus about four different eras from the perspective of the wives and not the men. Ugh, men. Amirite?
How would you describe your character(s) in Wives?
I’m going to be playing four different characters. A French King, A Prince of Jaipur, A grandfather, and Ernest Hemingway. You know…my usual typecast parts. Le sigh. This is like my 11th time playing Ernie Hemingway. I get it, I get it. I have a beard. And Hemingway and I are both from the western suburbs of Chicago. I don’t fight my fate. Big Ern is going to be my one-man touring show for the dinner theatre circuit in my 70s.
How does it feel being in a primarily Asian cast?
It always feels correct to be in a primarily Asian cast. My people are from Asia. Big continent. Big personalities. Big hearts.

You have a robust television resume. Are you enjoying being on the stage?
I’m of the age where you started in theatre. You interned at theatres. You worked box office at theatres. You start theatre companies with friends from college. It’s home. When I moved from Chicago to LA, that’s when I started improv and sketch because it was harder to commit to theatre or not have an understudy when I was in my 20s. Improv/Sketch at least still gave you the chance to perform on stage for folks.
Wait a minute… Why do I enjoy it? It’s scary. I’m always still kinda scared. We put ourselves in scary situations. What to do? I know, admit my need for validation by strangers in public spaces. Are we still talking about theatre?
There was a time when there was a fair amount of South Asian representation in Hollywood; you were in a primarily South Asian sitcom, Outsourced. Do you feel like representation has gotten better or worse? Has it been harder or easier to find roles?
It’s always better today for representation than it was yesterday, and tomorrow will be even better. I see so many shows featuring younger South Asian talent, and that is a joy, and it brings me so much pride, too.
We also have brown folks writing and producing and greenlighting these projects. Yes, there is pushback as political winds blow. Hello Paramountskydancewarnerbros after all, but we are still gaining more representation, not less. And it might not be through legacy media holding onto antiquated views of whose stories get told.
For me, I work. I always want to work more. Friends hire me and want to keep working with me, and for that, I am always grateful. Grateful to help tell their stories and also for the continued chance to make healthcare. Another sigh…we can’t even get a single-payer health care option out of California and NY’s state legislatures? What are we doing? Healthcare tied to work? That’s just a worry for everyone.
I often wonder if they were going to do Outsourced now, would they even hire an American-born guy like me, of Indian descent or cast from India proper? We were playing people born and raised in India but clearly filmed here at Radford Studios.
We sometimes have a hyper-accurate need for casting these days, which is making some jobs harder for those of us with a complicated background. Pre-Partition, my Sikh family lived in Lahore, now in present-day Pakistan, but because of the British’s first Brexit during the devastating Partition of India in August 1947, my Mom’s Punjabi Sikh family is one of the millions affected by these acts of colonizers. They, along with millions of people, left their home in Lahore for what is now India’s side of Punjab. Now, we are considered Indian. But we are also Punjabi. The state we are from, the state split in two by the Brits. A Pakistani Punjab and an Indian Punjab. A country for Muslims, a country for Hindus. The Sikhs got lost without a home of their own. Yay…my glossed-over and probably inaccurate version of history.
So, I bring this up because I am still not allowed to be seen for some parts that are of Pakistani descent. Or certain Punjabi parts. Or certain religious roles. Which is just silly to me as a brown atheist with ties to all of these lands. The subcontinent was all one land, one country before the English. Some of us South Asians are being separated from access to roles by gatekeepers who don’t even know the cultural history and heritage. But I digress. I am already on the first of many tangents.

You’ve been in a lot of animation. How have you enjoyed that experience? Any highlights?
Well, the exact opposite of a live stage. I love how I can be gentle, sing quietly, whisper into that microphone in my voice booth closet thing or at a professional shop. I like that you can give a multitude of takes and let the powers that be pick and choose. I like that people of color can also be Transformers and rocks and clouds and ferrets, too. And when you have to sing, it is always easier with just a few people around than in front of a live audience. Again, my fears.
I’ll always be proud of my work as Blades on Transformers: RescueBots for Nicole Dubuc and Brian Hohlfeld and as Couch on the podcast Melon’s House Party for Duke Doyle and Matt Sax. The creator/writers, the people in the recording booth, and the directors behind the plexiglass are some of the loveliest folks I’ve gotten to work with. Animation folks tend to be so kind in my experience. Everyone has that little sense of play and joy that we get to do this art form.
You’ve said in an interview, “White people were allowed to be gay, in a sense, or be queer as an identifier. People see our color and ethnicity first before our sexuality.” Do you think that’s changed for the better or the worse?
Still the same. At least more folks know what intersectionality is now. At least, I hope they do. A white, rich cis gay man may, just may, have more privilege and opportunity than a disabled non-binary immigrant. Folks are learning. But for the identity politics world, I get to be on a bunch of panels due to my own intersectionality. I can be on Asian, South Asian, Gay, and Gay Asian, and Gay South Asian panels. I think I might have missed a few configurations but I am also available for podcasts. I talk a lot, and my friends are busy with their kids.
What do you wish the gay community understood about the unique challenges/life of being both gay and South Asian?
I already mentioned intersectionality. My personal challenges really stem from a lot of the brownphobia/Islamaphobia/Sikhphobia that has continued in this country since the 9/11 attacks. After the Cold War and the USSR’s bust (Pre-Putin), the 2001 attacks and the subsequent surveillance state response only intensified the xenophobia of many Americans. To see the racism ratcheted up these past few years of Israel’s genocide of Palestinians is nothing new to me. I saw it during college in 2001, the ridiculous Iraq War in 2003, and now 2023 to 2026 and we are in another stupid war.
So, for any of us who are… human beings living in America, it’s already been a tumultuous 10 years since Trump first got in. Add in all the added weight of children of immigrants being told to “go back to your own country” by descendants of white colonizers is just…tiring. Oh, and that’s before any homophobic or transphobic attacks. Uneducated and fearful people who own a lot of guns really make life tricky at times here in America.
Hmm. I keep thinking about this. There was just a young influencer, Mad Sandhu, who was just shot and killed in Punjab. The area of India my family is from. Thinking of this out and fabulous makeup artist who was shot and killed on the street. It’s a reminder that threats to our community are worldwide. It’s easy to forget when we live here.
What is your favorite role you’ve played?
I dunno. I don’t center myself in the work. This is my attempt at a non-vain answer. I dunno. You tell me. What do you like of my work? I think I answered it a bit with Blades and Couch in the V.O. world. On camera. Gupta in Outsourced was a joy, as was being a part of the film Sometimes I Think About Dying.
What part of queer culture or general gay representation are you currently obsessed with?
I have accepted that RuPaul’s Drag Race/World of Wonder, with every foreign iteration, is just my version of sports at this point. I remember asking friends why they still watched college football or teams that weren’t their hometown. Now I get it.
It’s just something to have on, wind down to. And I watch most of them, and Drag Race podcast recap shows, too, like Bussy Queen. I have a few friends where drag is pretty much the only thing we talk about. Just finished Latina Royale, now Drag Race Philippines Season 4’s first episode is what I fell asleep to last night. I’m old. I have to split up the episodes. Mabuhay!
You were on My Crazy Ex-Girlfriend; is there any chance of you reprising your role? Anything you can share?
Are they doing a reboot? I should text Rachel. You know Rachel Bloom? Let me pick up that name I just dropped. She’s on Broadway right now. Um…we ran into each other at the Hollywood Bowl, and she’s really nice. (Wait. So. Is there a reboot? Do you know something I don’t? Jane. Jane!)
Now read what you just read again, but as Lisa Kudrow’s Valerie Cherish. Seriously. I know nothing. Lovely people all around.
Given your fairly long IMDB profile, what role would you still love to play? Any dream projects you’d love to tackle?
I’d like to get cast in a role in a show that goes to a second season. Wait. This is my dream project: Medicare for All
I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be an ass, but I have played convenience store owners and terrorists and roles where they changed my co-star/one scene part into an Indian guy with an accent. I’m just grateful to play more nuanced roles on stage. But I’m also not waiting to play Falstaff or Oedipus or any other old European “classics” anymore. If it happens, wonderful, but they aren’t the dream role I’m pining for. The great roles and projects for South Asian people are being written as we speak by folks like Jasmine Sharma and Madhuri Shekar. I’m just happy to be working on new plays like Wives.
I think I chase work not by the part but by who I want to work, collaborate, and spend weeks with. I wanted to work with our director Arpita Mukherjee again after a lovely time previously, and so many friends love Jaclyn’s work and saw Wives in NYC. I do want to keep working with women and queer folks, too. The majority of our crew and creatives are queer folks, women, and people of color. That’s the current dream. Did I mention we all need healthcare in this country?

You can catch Parvesh in Wives from October 8, 2026 – November 1, 2026 at the David Henry Hwang Theater in the Union Center for the Arts, 120 Judge John Aiso Street, Los Angeles, CA 90012, in historic Little Tokyo. Tickets here.
a&e features
Actor Kal Penn on the real lesson of ‘Trust Me, I’m a Doctor’
The gay actor speaks about his newest role and the true cost of fame
The death of Anna Nicole Smith has been portrayed for decades by the very entertainment industry that led to her downfall. This tale of manipulation and institutional incompetence continues to be a warning, with Smith showing what happens when people see you as a product rather than a person. Countless films have chronicled her life and death, repeating the same heartbreaking beats while recycling the usual messages — but Trust Me, I’m a Doctor, tries something different.
Directed by Thane Economou, the film is based on the real autobiography of Sandeep Kapoor, the doctor who prescribed Smith a heavy dosage of sedatives throughout the last few years of her life (which allegedly played a part in her death). Trust Me, I’m a Doctor looks at the larger system of spectacle that guides not only our entertainment but our legal system. It travels from intense Los Angeles courtrooms to the streets of West Hollywood in its focus on this man, who is played amazingly in the film by gay actor Kal Penn.
“I think the thing that really drew me to the character [of Sandeep] is: he’s a doctor who’s really vulnerable,” said Penn, speaking to the LA Blade about the role. “He’s deeply insecure at times where…he makes a lot of bad decisions. There’s equal parts cockiness and insecurity that I thought would be really interesting to delve into as a character.”
Most people know Penn for his famous Harold and Kumar series; this comedy trilogy sees him as a stoner getting into random misadventures with his best friend. But while he became known for playing this slacker, Kal’s real life is the complete opposite, with the man working across film and TV while also serving within the Obama administration’s Office of Public Engagement. The past few decades have seen him pursue both film and advocacy, but it wasn’t until his memoir You Can’t Be Serious that he officially came out to the world by announcing his longtime boyfriend.
This wild combination of real-life experience meant Kal was very drawn to the central role in Trust Me, I’m a Doctor, explaining, “Sandeep says, ‘I’m just a private person living a private, quiet life,’ — but then he makes 10 decisions that counter that, where it’s clear that he loves attention, that he really enjoys being in the company of Anna Nicole because of her celebrity and her status!” Kal’s own experiences with the pitfalls of fame informed his role in the story, as audiences watch the initially quiet doctor attend the WeHo pride parade with Smith, begin supplying her with a questionable amount of drugs, and eventually face the Medical Board of California in court.
Somehow, Trust Me, I’m a Doctor still manages to imbue this harrowing legal battle with a startling amount of dark humor, with Penn explaining, “I certainly don’t want to make light of somebody’s tragic death, but Dr. Kapoor has a self-deprecating humor. There’s a dark comedy aspect of his stuff that I think audiences would enjoy.” It’s a comedy that quickly becomes vital to the film as viewers learn its true message: the entertainment industry can be so, so ridiculous.
As Kal emphasized, this isn’t delivered at the expense of how heartbreaking Anna Nicole’s final months were. In fact, the film offers many shockingly heartbreaking scenes as viewers learn just how terribly she was treated by people like her shady lawyer and irresponsible psychiatrist. But through Sandeep’s view — both when Smith was alive and in the ensuing case — audiences learn how even the most serious of issues can be sensationalized to a horrible degree.
It displays how judges, lawyers, and even potential governors used Smith’s death as a way to gain attention, with many targeting Sandeep as a ploy to garner the ‘audience’s’ approval. That’s not to say that Sandeep is treated as some war-torn hero — the film harshly critiques his many jaw-dropping mistakes. But it shows how people will so often skew reality if it means getting the kind of attention that led to Anna Nicole’s death.
Kal has seen this unfortunate phenomenon throughout his long career (both on the entertainment and the political side). For himself, and for anyone who hopes to make it in this industry someday, Kal advised, “Take pride in your job, and love what you do, but…when there’s more of a focus on you and what you do, talk to a friend who doesn’t do what you do for a living. Just remind yourself that…that you aren’t sh*t basically, you know?”
The man laughed at that, with his wry advice mirroring the dark humor of Trust Me, I’m a Doctor. He stressed that above all else, he hopes people enjoy the film as a great adaptation. But with its main themes, he also hopes that it helps educate people more about the terrible things that led to Anna Nicole Smith’s death — and how they can watch out for them in their own lives.
Movies
40 years later, AFI Fest continues to offer a robust selection of queer and international films
This year’s line-up includes ‘Elsinore,’ ‘The Man I Love’ and ‘A Long Winter’
As AFI Fest celebrates its 40th anniversary, the Los Angeles-based festival is gearing up for another star-studded event. But behind the red carpet galas, receptions and talent that draw eyeballs to the historic TCL Chinese Theatre this time of year, the real heart of the festival is its robust selection of queer and international cinema.
Running Oct. 21-25, this year’s line-up includes Elsinore, The Man I Love, Prosecution, Mouse, Clarissa, Bitter Christmas, Tangles, Elephants in the Fog, Iván & Hadoum, Flesh and Fuel and A Long Winter, among others. Many of the filmmakers and talent behind these projects will also be in attendance for post-screening Q&As, including Ira Sachs, Sophie Okonedo and Leah Nelson.
For feature films programmer Anna Li, who identifies as lesbian, offering a diverse line-up is an extra personal mission. “I remember the first film I watched that made me feel seen, made me feel like I wasn’t alone as a baby gay,” she says. “As queer people, we all have that memory; if any of these films that we program can change someone’s mind or opinion, or change the way they think about themselves or others or their family, or someone has that baby gay life-changing moment of eureka, that’s a job well done by us. That’s why we do what we do.”
Notably, the festival has the North American premiere of Céline Sciamma’s new film Tutti Frutti, a mid-length documentary that explores the Portrait of a Lady on Fire filmmaker’s aspirations after stepping back from the spotlight. “It’s really a major new work and direction for the director,” Li says.
The seasonal staffers at AFI Fest come together in May, right after the Cannes Film Festival, to start screening films and planning the line-up. Over the years, the festival has become a go-to stop for Oscar hopefuls, especially international films that wind up making the best international feature film shortlist.
“That’s something that we definitely care very deeply about and keep in mind when we’re programming our titles,” Li says, with this year’s international line-up featuring awards-hopefuls All of a Sudden, Gentle Monster, Possible Love, Everytime and La Gradiva. “We try to play everything that most people want to see, from looking at Berlin, Cannes or TIFF; they’ve compiled their list of films that they want to watch. We want to make sure they get the chance.”
Li points out that AFI Fest has partnered with queer-specific L.A. festivals like Outfest in years past. But she also sees the value of a broader, less defined festival in today’s media landscape.
“It’s important for a festival like AFI Fest that is more generalized and not specialized to still have such a great showing of queer films, films about marginalized people. Obviously, specialized LGBTQ+ film festivals or those with other focuses are so important for the community,” Li says. “Queer films are not just for queer people; it’s universal, and it’s intersectional.”
Television
New ‘Carrie’ attempts to reinvent a classic for new generation
A tone that’s less horror than social commentary
The books of Stephen King have had a rocky relationship with the movies.
Adaptations of the horror icon’s work have had an impressive track record on both big screen and small, earning success and critical acclaim across five decades. Some films based on his work – like “Misery,” “Stand by Me,” “The Shawshank Redemption,” and this year’s earlier “The Long Walk” – have reached the level of “prestige” cinema, earning award glory and finding their way onto critics’ “Best of the Year” lists. Many others, though, have landed at the opposite end of the spectrum, like “Children of the Corn,” “Maximum Overdrive,” and “The Dark Tower,” all of which are frequently featured in “Worst of All Time” lists instead.
There’s also King’s own vocal criticism of adaptations he doesn’t like, most famously around Stanley Kubrick’s 1980 film of “The Shining,” which has come to be hailed as a cinematic masterpiece but continues to be a sore spot for the author himself over the alterations Kubrick made to his book; his dissatisfaction with that project led directly to his own creation of a miniseries of the novel, which remained faithful to his original storyline. In the years since, other King novels have made it to television; some, like “The Stand,” have benefitted from the nuance made possible by long-form storytelling; others have suffered from a lack of it.
Despite the hit-or-miss history of Stephen King on the screen, however, he has always remained popular, and is now arguably more so than ever. This is why we have a new adaptation of his debut novel – “Carrie,” published in 1974 – streaming on Amazon Prime; and though King himself served as one of its executive producers, his fans may not entirely love what has been done with it.
Developed and spearheaded by Mike Flanagan – himself a popular horror creator, responsible not only for previous King adaptations (“Gerald’s Game,” “Doctor Sleep,” and “The Life of Chuck,” among others) and a string of successful Netflix series (“The Haunting of Hill House,” “The Haunting of Bly Manor,” and “Midnight Mass”), it updates and expands the original novel considerably. It’s still centered on its title character, whose reclusive upbringing combines with her growing telekinetic abilities (along with the torments she endures from her domineering mother and her schoolmates) to trigger a horrific catastrophe at her high school prom, but it allows the scope to widen for a deeper look into the “backstories” of other characters, as well as invoking themes around certain social issues – online bullying, dysfunctional family relationships, school violence, conspiracy theories, exploitation of tragedy by the media – which have become exacerbated in the 50 years since King wrote the book.
In this re-crafted version, Carrie White (Summer H. Howell) and her mother Margaret (Samantha Sloyan) have been secluded from the outside world for years, their existence kept secret until the “accidental” death of her father (Tahmoh Pennikett) leads to their discovery. Forced to participate in society, Carrie is enrolled in the local high school, while Margaret takes a job at the local big-box store. For her part, Carrie is eager enough to explore beyond the confines of home, but she quickly becomes the target of “mean girl” ringleader Chris (Alison Thornton) who seems bent on making her life miserable. There are others who offer more sympathetic treatment – new friend Sue (Siena Agudong) and her boyfriend Tommy (Joel Oulette), gym teacher Rita (Amber Midthunder), guidance counselor Mr. Moron (Tim Bagley), and others – but her struggle to fit in is not made any easier by her mother’s continued interference in her school life.
Of course, we all know what happens. Even for those who never read the original book, Brian DePalma’s 1976 screen version, starring Sissy Spacek as Carrie and Piper Laurie as her monstrous mother, is a pop culture touchstone for anyone who grew up with it, and it remains one of the few King screen adaptations to remain controversy-free in terms of appreciation by fans and critics alike. There’s no need to worry about spoiling the ending – even Flanagan’s series opens with news coverage of the “Black Prom’s” aftermath, so the story is essentially a flashback from the very beginning.
Yet “Carrie” is, as King originally wrote it, a streamlined and compelling tale that expertly and relentlessly builds suspense through the single-minded simplicity of its narrative. It’s an exercise in watching the dominos lined up methodically before the climax of seeing them all fall down in a spectacular catharsis of gore, devastation, and yes, horror. That’s the whole point – and that’s also why Flanagan’s expanded framework becomes a bit of a problem by the series’ midpoint.
In weaving new storylines around the oppressively isolated narrative of Carrie’s experience – extended explorations of toxic teen behavior, romantic relationships between various other characters, and even the inclusion of a subplot involving witch-hunters and a cult – this new vision of the story offers a depth that is absent from the original book and movie, giving us insight that humanizes and even invites sympathy for figures we would not otherwise have felt deserve it; it incorporates larger themes about society, politics, and all the other divisive issues that trickle down into the way we treat each other in private. These things might make this “Carrie” feel like a bigger story, but they make for a tone that’s less “horror” than social commentary; and frankly, with the out-of-control behavior of high schoolers dominating so much screentime, it sometimes feels like we’ve accidentally tuned into an episode of “Euphoria” by mistake.
That’s not to say Flanagan’s “Carrie” isn’t a worthwhile watch. He brings to it the same inclusive, compassionate generosity of spirit – highlighting feminist themes, incorporating queer characters, honing in on the power of kindness in a world of cruelty – that he brought to his previous adaptations of vintage horror tales. He even gives Margaret White, so hateful in King’s book and so operatically deranged in DePalma’s film, the benefit of the doubt, focusing on the motherly love and protection that drives her abusive behavior to help us understand that this is her tragedy, too.
Many viewers will surely appreciate these efforts; many others, who might prefer the operatically deranged Margaret White of the original to the softened version offered here, will not. For those who go in hoping to relive the thrills of the original, who both want and need the over-the-top American gothic horror they know, Flanagan’s changes might be a few steps too far – and while the original story’s terse and streamlined narrative doesn’t give us time to examine the fine points, keeping us locked with Carrie into her private hell, this one gives us room to reflect, diffusing the tension and denying us the satisfaction of the clear-cut horror fantasy we expect.
Even so, with excellent performances and production values all around, it’s a grade-A binge-watch that makes us appreciate the high-tone camp of DePalma’s version – and King’s original novel – with renewed fondness. Besides, it’s Halloween, so how can you resist?
a&e features
Fortune Feimster has always taken representation through comedy seriously
Feimster is bringing her latest comedy tour to the United Theater in Los Angeles on November 7
After spending months away from friends and family (outside of a hometown visit to North Carolina), Fortune Feimster is in the final stretch of her latest tour, Takin’ Care of Biscuits. And it’s only fitting to bring it home to Los Angeles, the city that provided the queer stand-up comic her first live audience two decades ago.
“Every hour that I put out is very much a reflection of my life at that period of time and what I’m going through; there’s a lot of changes in my personal life, from my Mom to my marriage, so I don’t shy away from those things,” Feimster tells The Blade. “But I’m also not a serious ‘comic,’ so I still find levity in those life experiences.”
In the Takin’ Care of Biscuits tour, which is coming to the United Theater in Los Angeles on Saturday, November 7, Feimster explores some of these big changes in life, from coming out of a 10-year relationship to her Mom being diagnosed with cancer — all through the lens of confessional, feel-good style comedy, of course.
Long before voicing a lovable beaver in Zootopia 2 or starring in The Mindy Project, Feimster got her start back in 2007 at The Comedy Store, which she describes as “bro-y.” Everything changed, though, when she discovered a local show at Akbar, run by a gay comedian named Bruce Daniels. “The queer comedy community embracing me and giving me a platform was a huge part of my foundation,” she says.

As part of her comedy, Feimster will sometimes dig up hate tweets and comments and incorporate them as part of her act (at least in the past, when she says she had “more time” to look at social media). In her 2022 special Good Fortune, the audience roars in laughter when she reads a comment calling her a “taco-licking lesbian.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to deal with some of the hateful comments, but this particular one, I was turning his comment on its head in that he referred to me as these awful things, but he did refer to my partner at the time as my wife, which meant he was recognizing my marriage!” Feimster says. “That was a huge step because guys like him, people like him, do not want me to have that right to begin with.”
As a comedian who speaks openly about sex and sexuality, Feimster has “always” taken the representation she provides “very seriously” when she steps on stage in front of an audience.
“Anytime we get to tell our stories and be on platforms like Netflix, it’s big. People from all over the world see these specials, and hopefully they see something in you they resonate with,” she says. “And then on the silly side of this, I also have some fun jokes that I tease my fellow lesbians about, which people are really enjoying. You’ve got to not take yourself too seriously.”

Outside of stand-up comedy, Feimster co-hosts the podcast Handsome, which won a GLAAD award in 2026, with Tig Notaro and Mae Martin. That has “broadened” the comedian’s horizons in the different generations of queer fans each host draws in. She also recently co-starred in Netflix’s The Hawk, holding her own alongside Will Ferrell and Molly Shannon. In addition, Feimster has been chosen as the 2026 National Grand Marshal for Palm Springs Pride, timely for her Palm Springs appearance at the Plaza Theatre on November 8th.
“Things are getting harder; this is the time to be more visible,” Feimster says. “And that’s what I try to do — just be a visible, out comedian who is not trying to shy away from being who I am.”
Feimster’s tour comes to Santa Barbara on Oct 24th, Los Angeles Nov 7th, and Palm Springs Nov 8th; get your tickets here.
Movies
From ‘La Bola Negra’ to ‘Coward,’ here are this award season’s must-watch queer films
Los Javis, Andrew Scott and Jordan Firstman are already in the Oscar conversation
At this year’s Cannes Film Festival, multiple queer directors cemented their projects as ones to watch this awards season. From La Bola Negra to Club Kid to Coward, 2026 is poised to be a breakthrough year for queer cinema.
La Bola Negra, directed by former Drag Race judges Javier Ambrossi and Javier Calvo — collectively known as Los Javis — was the breakout film at Cannes, tying for the best director prize with Paweł Pawlikowski and most recently winning the coveted TIFF People’s Choice Award. The ambitious, decades-spanning historical drama starts in 1930s Spain and ends in 2017, connecting the lives of three men as they confront their identity during fractured points in history. Based on the raves the film has received from critics and audiences, it’ll likely be one of the biggest contenders for the Best Picture Oscar, with performances from Penélope Cruz, Glenn Close, Julio Torres, Guitarricadelafuente and Lola Dueñas. It will release in theaters Oct. 16 and drop on Netflix Dec. 2.
Jordan Firstman made the unexpected leap from internet personality to breakthrough filmmaker with his directorial debut Club Kid, which he also stars in. The film follows a leader in New York’s club scene (Firstman) who discovers he has a 10-year-old son (Reggie Absolom) who he never knew about, completely throwing his life’s priorities into disarray. The film features Cara Delevingne and was shot by The Invite cinematographer Adam Newport-Berra. A24 is set to release the film in theaters on Nov. 6.
Four years after Close scored a best international feature nomination, director Lukas Dhont is back in the awards race with his historical drama Coward, which won the best actor prize at Cannes (shared jointly by leads Emmanuel Macchia and Valentin Campagne). Set in the midst of World War I, the film follows a young Belgian soldier (Macchia) who starts a secret love affair and joins a theater troupe to bring joy and entertainment to his fellow soldiers. MUBI is set to release the film in theaters on Dec. 25.
The animated film Tangles also made a splash at Cannes. Directed by Leah Nelson and led by a voice cast featuring Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Bryan Cranston, Beanie Feldstein, Seth Rogen, Sarah Silverman and Bowen Yang, the film follows an activist living in ‘90s San Francisco who returns to her conservative hometown after her mom gets diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Independent Film Company is set to release the film in select theaters before the end of the year, with a wider theatrical expansion in early 2027.
While Elsinore didn’t premiere at Cannes, the tearjerker has been making the rounds at fall festivals and recently won the TIFF International People’s Choice Award. Andrew Scott plays Ian Charleson, the actor known for starring in 1981’s Chariots of Fire, as he gives his final performance in a London rendition of Hamlet before dying of AIDS. The film also stars Oscar-winner Olivia Colman and Heartstopper star Joe Locke. Focus Features is set to release the film in theaters on Nov. 20.
Although his new film doesn’t have U.S. distribution quite yet, it’s worth calling out Ira Sachs’ The Man I Love, which stars Oscar-winner Rami Malek and recently had its Canadian premiere in Toronto. The musical film is set in ‘80s New York, a time period that Sachs returns to frequently in his work, following Malek as a performance artist taking on a new role while grappling with his AIDS diagnosis. The cast is rounded out by Rebecca Hall, Ebon Moss-Bachrach, Tom Sturridge and Luther Ford.
After last year saw noticeably few queer actors and directors in the Oscar conversation, this year’s awards race is already shaping up to bring a slew of exciting, new queer stories to audiences. Other queer films to look out for include A Long Winter from Andrew Haigh, Clarissa, and La Gradiva.
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