When filmmaker Sean Baker chose to shoot an entire feature film – “Tangerine” (2015) – using only iPhones, he caught the attention of film enthusiasts and turned it into his breakthrough. For LGBTQ audiences, however, what felt much more groundbreaking was that Baker had made a film about trans sex workers on the “mean streets” of Hollywood, cast real trans women to play them, and depicted them with as much humanity as the cis/het protagonists in any mainstream movie.

It really wasn’t much of a bold leap for Baker, who had from the beginning centered his movies around people from marginalized, largely stigmatized or disregarded communities. A story about transgender sex workers was a logical next step, and the years since have seen him continue in the same vein, both by advocating directly for decriminalization and respect for sex workers and by the compassionate treatment of their stories in his work, – such as 2017’s “The Florida Project,” arguably his most visible success so far.

In his latest film – “Anora,” now in limited release after a premiere at Cannes 2024 and a win of the festival’s prestigious Palm d’Or prize – that undercurrent in his creative identity may have manifested its most fully realized bloom.

The title character, who goes by the more American-sounding “Ani” (Mikey Madison), is an in-demand erotic dancer at a popular Brooklyn club, and she’s the walking definition of a seasoned “pro.” Even so, when Ivan (Mark Eydelshteyn) – a wealthy Russian oligarch’s son in America on a student visa – shows up at the club, she finds herself in uncharted territory. Smitten, he whisks her into a world of endless parties and unthinkable wealth – and when he impetuously proposes to her during an impromptu trip to Las Vegas, she embraces the chance for a “Cinderella story” and accepts.

Their wedded bliss proves short-lived when the tabloid gossip reaches Ivan’s parents in Russia. No sooner has the couple returned to Brooklyn than a trio of family “operatives” (Karren Karagulian, Vache Tovmasyan, Yura Borisov) stages a clumsy home invasion to take control of the situation, with orders from the top to have the marriage annulled immediately. The young groom, fearing his father will pull the plug on his free-wheeling American lifestyle and force him to return to Russia, flees the scene – leaving Ani to fend for herself, and ultimately leading her into an unlikely (and volatile) alliance with her supposed “kidnappers” as they attempt to track him down in the wilds of Brooklyn.

According to press notes, “Anora” began as an effort by Baker to produce a vehicle for Karagulian, a respected indie actor of Russian-Armenian heritage who has appeared in every one of his movies to date. He developed the story with the idea of the “home invasion” sequence as a centerpiece that transforms the narrative from edgy romance to character-driven “chase” adventure – and after casting Madison (previously best known for her regular role in TV’s “Better Things”) as Ani, decided to craft the story around her emotional journey. 

It was a fortuitous choice, supplemented by the filmmaker’s talent for making all his characters into relatable figures with whom we cannot help but empathize. Nobody seems a one-dimensional menace, but rather just another struggling human caught up in thankless circumstances and trying to rise to the occasion; this is hardly a surprising approach from Baker, oft-praised for the humanism reflected in his work, but in “Anora,” that egalitarian perspective makes for a dynamic that both heightens and undercuts the inherent tension; while the threat of violence may hover over the film’s second half like a patiently circling vulture, we recognize that none of the involved players desires such an outcome, and their resultant ineffectiveness adds a winning layer of comedic irony. It also helps his movie to deepen as it goes, and by the time he brings “Anora” home, it has transcended the genres from which it samples to leave us with a bittersweet satisfaction that feels infinitely more authentic than the “Pretty Woman” fantasy toward which it hints in the beginning.

It would be an affront to reveal much about how things play out, except to say that its final scene delivers a profoundly resonant impact that we understand without having to hear a word of dialogue; it’s the payoff earned by two hours of flawless performances from a cast palpably attuned to each other, guided by a cinematic master whose gift for bringing out the best in his collaborators has helped to make him one of the most unequivocally acclaimed American filmmakers of our era.

As seamless a group effort as it is, Madison’s Ani – fierce, determined, and unwilling to give up any agency over her life – is the lynch-pin, so much a force to be reckoned with that we somehow never doubt she will come out on top of this harrowing crisis, yet at the same time navigates around a layer of vulnerability that reminds us just how much like the rest of us she is. While neither she nor any of the film’s characters is queer, there is something about her – her refusal to be defined or stigmatized for who she is, perhaps, or her outsider status in a culture where conformity to traditional rules and class hierarchy is the prime directive – which makes her feel like “one of us,” an outcast thumbing her nose at those who would dismiss or decry her over how she lives her life. It’s a tour-de-force performance, and “Anora” hinges on its power.

She’s supported by a universally superb ensemble. Special mention goes to Eydelshteyn, whose Ivan has an irresistible charm that helps us believe Ani’s decision to trust him and keeps us from judging him too harshly for his inevitable callowness; Karagulian and Tovmasyan, as the chief and second banana (respectively) of the hapless henchmen who attempt to intimidate the young newlyweds into submission, both embody decidedly ordinary men trying to stay in control despite being hopelessly out of their depth, a source for both much-needed humor and unexpected empathy; but it’s Borisov”s Igor who becomes the film’ most compelling figure – the “muscle” of the home invasion crew whose outward thuggishness hides a much more thoughtful approach to life than anyone around him might be capable of seeing, and who establishes himself in the third act as the film’s grounding emotional force.

Of course, Baker’s knack for creating a “wild ride” of a film (populated by people we probably wouldn’t want to hang out with in real life) plays a big part in making this one a sexy (often explicitly) and entertaining movie as well as a deeply engaging, challenging piece of cinema, and the gritty, ‘70s-evocative cinematography from Drew Daniels only heightens the experience. It’s one of those rare films that, even though it is crafted with excellence from every contributor, somehow manages still to be greater than the sum of its parts. 

It’s our pick for the best film of the year so far, and while it might be too soon for us to proclaim “Anora” as Sean Baker’s masterpiece, it’s certainly tempting to do so.

The advocacy organization GLSEN held its annual Rise Up LA event at NeueHouse Hollywood on Friday, Oct. 18. GLSEN presented its Champion Award to Emmy-winning actress Sheryl Lee Ralph.

(Photos by Jon Kopaloff for GLSEN)

You know it’s there. It’s been lurking in your Netflix queue for weeks now, taunting you, beckoning you with its sure promise of sexy, lurid thrills, but you’ve been holding back – and we can’t say we blame you. After all, that “Dahmer” show was pretty hard to watch.

For many Netflix viewers, there have been no such qualms; though Ryan Murphy’s “Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story” debuted nearly a month ago, it’s currently the platform’s #3 most-watched series in the U.S., despite mixed reviews from critics and controversy over the way the show’s narrative depicts the facts of the notorious 1989 murder that put the two brothers in the national spotlight through two highly publicized trials. Even if killing their wealthy parents put the Menandez brothers into prison for life, it also put them into the upper echelon of “True Crime” superstars, and that makes anything dealing with their story “must-see TV” for a lot of people.

If you’re one of those who have resisted it so far, it’s likely your reasons have something to do with the very things that make it so irresistible to so many others. It’s hard to imagine a more sensational (or more gruesome) crime story than the tale of Lyle and Erik (Nicholas Alexander Chavez and Cooper Koch), who killed their wealthy parents with multiple shotgun blasts in their Beverly Hills mansion, claimed the deaths were the result of an organized crime “hit,” and then went on an extravagant spending spree with their multi-million-dollar inheritance. Even knowing just the surface details, it’s brimming with circumstances that conjure deep and troubling questions, not least about how two abundantly fortunate young men – Lyle was 21 at the time of the killing, Erik only 18 – could possibly have become capable of such a horrific act; their claim they acted in fear, after years of sexual and psychological abuse from their parents, offers answers that only leads to more questions. It’s easy to see how a morbid fascination could develop around the case (and the perpetrators, who at the time were each charismatic, handsome, and somehow boyishly adorable in spite of the silver-spoon detachment they seemed to exude) in a society endlessly fascinated by the dirty secrets and bad behavior of rich, beautiful people.

That, of course, makes the Menendez saga a natural fit with Ryan Murphy’s brand of television, which embraces the sensationalism of whatever subject it tackles – as we’ve seen from the transgressively macabre twists of “American Horror Story” to the scandal-icious celebrity backbiting of “Feud” to the campy noir-flavored psychopathy of “Ratched.” His “American Crime Story” anthology has delivered its true-life dramas with an equal eye toward creating those “WTF?” moments that inevitably have social media buzzing with both glee and outrage the morning after they drop. The “Monster” franchise is a natural progression, using Murphy’s shrewd knack for cultural provocation to unearth the underlying social dysfunctions that help create an environment in which such killers can be created.

With the inaugural installment, “Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story,” it can be argued that he crafted a chilling masterpiece of binge-able long-form storytelling that not only took viewers into the unspeakable horrors that took place in the killer’s apartment, but into the mind of the man who committed them. Yet while the show proved successful, earning an impressive tally of critical accolades, it was met with a harsher tone – much of it from families of Dahmer’s real-life victims – for capitalizing on his crimes.

For “Menendez,” the reception has been predictably similar, though its critical reception has not been quite as warm, with many reviewers taking issue with Murphy’s signature slicked-up style and the show’s overt homoeroticism. Controversies, however, have come along as expected; objections over the extremely unflattering portrayal of José and Kitty Mendez (the ill-fated parents, played here with star-power intensity by Javier Bardem and Chloë Sevigny), and of the incestuous bond alleged between the title characters themselves, have arisen alongside complaints about the distortion of facts to support a narrative favoring the boys’ version of events that Murphy – who co-wrote the series as well as produced it – wants to advance.

It’s certainly fair to claim that Murphy plays fast and loose with facts; his purpose here is not to transcribe events, like a docuseries, but to interpret them. He and his fellow writers craft “Monsters” theatrically, with bold strokes and operatic moments; they mine it for black humor and milk it for emotional intensity; the series plays up the brothers’ pretty-boy charms, caressing their sculpted bodies with the camera and frequently showing them in various states of near or total nudity; it seems to fixate on the messy, petty, and ignoble traits of its characters, and illuminate the messy personal motives driving their public agendas; it even employs a “Rashomon”-esque approach in which it variously portrays different versions of the same events depending on the character describing them. In short, it’s not a show that is looking for factual truth; it’s searching for a more complex truth behind the facts.

That truth, perhaps, has a lot to do with the shame, stigma, and silence around abuse; the tendency to disbelieve the victims (especially when they are male – a prosecutor during the trials famously argued that a male “couldn’t be raped”); the cultural homophobia that further complicates the dynamic when the abuse comes from someone of the same sex. Does such abuse warrant absolution for murder, especially when the murder is as excessively brutal as the killing of José and Kitty Menendez? That’s a question Murphy and crew leave up to the viewers.

Such moral ambiguity is surely part of the reason that shows like “Monsters” and its predecessor are met with such hostility from some viewers; they offer no easy comfort, no straightforward moral order to reassure us that our perceptions of good and evil are just or fair or even correct – and if you’re looking for a hero to step forward and make sense of it all for us, you’re not going to find one.

If that’s too bleak a prospect for you, or if the notion of criminals as celebrities is something you’re just not comfortable with enough to make allowances for artistic intention, then “Monsters” may not be for you. 

For anyone else who has hesitated to watch, however, it’s a show worthy of your time. Though it might seem uneven, even disjointed at times, it paints an overall picture of the Menendez case that is about something much more than the murders – or the murderers – themselves. The performances are all accomplished, well-tuned together to a sort of elevated authenticity, with special note to a jaw-dropping star turn by Koch monologuing his way through a one-shot full-length episode filmed in a single take.

The latter alone is enough to make “Monsters” an awards-worthy piece of television. While it may not be the right show for every taste, it’s not “trash TV” either. It’s a bold and challenging work from one of our most prolific and dedicated queer showmen, and if it leaves you feeling sorry for monsters, is that really such a bad thing?

While the New York Liberty are focused on defeating the Minnesota Lynx in the WNBA finals, one of its stars has come under attack from anti-gay bigots who made death threats against that player and her wife, according to the Associated Press.

The homophobic death threats targeted forward Breanna Stewart and her wife, retired Phoenix Mercury guard Marta Xargay. Stewart said they arrived in Xargay’s email inbox. 

“The fact it came to Marta’s email is something she (had to) see. The level of closeness was a little bit different,” she said. “Make sure that myself and Marta are okay, but that our kids are the safest.”

Stewart, the two-time MVP known to teammates and on social media as “Stewie,” told reporters Tuesday she notified her team about the emails, The Liberty then escalated it to WNBA security.

“We’re taking the proper precautions,” Stewart said, noting that she felt the Liberty’s winning streak was only encouraging more threats. New York is leading their opponents two games to one after Tuesday night’s 80-77 win in Minneapolis. “We love that people are engaged in our sport, but not to the point where there’s threats or harassment or homophobic comments being made.”

Xargay filed a complaint with the New York Police Department at the advice of the team and security, said Stewart.

“Being in the finals and everything like that it makes sense to file something formal,” she said.

The NYPD confirmed to the Associated Press that it received a report of aggravated harassment involving emails sent to “a 33-year-old victim,” said a police spokesperson. The department’s media relations team added that the NYPD hate crimes task force is investigating the threats. 

Although Stewart told reporters she has an agency that reviews most of the messages she receives, she was stunned to learn from her wife about the hateful messages that wound up in Xargay’s inbox. She said that’s why she decided to let fans know there’s no justification for hate. 

“For me to use this platform to let people know it’s unacceptable to bring to our sport,” she said.

Last month, WNBA players and their union representatives called out league commissioner Cathy Engelbert for failing to condemn a spike in racist attacks on players. It’s been a long-standing problem exacerbated by the rivalry between Indiana Fever star Caitlin Clark and the Chicago Sky’s Angel Reese. The league has never been more popular than it is now, and with that success, fans have escalated their criticism of players. 

Since then, Engelbert has addressed the rise in player harassment on social media in an address prior to Game 1 of the WNBA finals one week ago. 

“It just is something where we have to continue to be a voice for this, a voice against it, condemning it, and making sure that we find every opportunity to support our players, who have been dealing with this for much longer than this year,” Engelbert said.

In her address, Engelbert pledged the league will work with the players’ union to figure out what they can do together to combat it. 

“We continue to emphasize that there is absolutely no room for hateful or threatening comments made about players, teams or anyone affiliated with the WNBA,” a league spokesperson said in response to questions about the death threats made against Stewart and Xargay. “We’re aware of the most recent matter and are working with league and team security as well as law enforcement on appropriate security measures.”

The Liberty play the Lynx again Friday night in Minneapolis. 

While the New York Liberty are focused on defeating the Minnesota Lynx in the WNBA finals, one of its stars has come under attack from anti-gay bigots who made death threats against that player and her wife, according to the Associated Press.

The homophobic death threats targeted forward Breanna Stewart and her wife, retired Phoenix Mercury guard Marta Xargay. Stewart said they arrived in Xargay’s email inbox. 

“The fact it came to Marta’s email is something she (had to) see. The level of closeness was a little bit different,” she said. “Make sure that myself and Marta are okay, but that our kids are the safest.”

Stewart, the two-time MVP known to teammates and on social media as “Stewie,” told reporters Tuesday she notified her team about the emails, The Liberty then escalated it to WNBA security.

“We’re taking the proper precautions,” Stewart said, noting that she felt the Liberty’s winning streak was only encouraging more threats. New York is leading their opponents two games to one after Tuesday night’s 80-77 win in Minneapolis. “We love that people are engaged in our sport, but not to the point where there’s threats or harassment or homophobic comments being made.”

Xargay filed a complaint with the New York Police Department at the advice of the team and security, said Stewart.

“Being in the finals and everything like that it makes sense to file something formal,” she said.

The NYPD confirmed to the Associated Press that it received a report of aggravated harassment involving emails sent to “a 33-year-old victim,” said a police spokesperson. The department’s media relations team added that the NYPD hate crimes task force is investigating the threats. 

Although Stewart told reporters she has an agency that reviews most of the messages she receives, she was stunned to learn from her wife about the hateful messages that wound up in Xargay’s inbox. She said that’s why she decided to let fans know there’s no justification for hate. 

“For me to use this platform to let people know it’s unacceptable to bring to our sport,” she said.

Last month, WNBA players and their union representatives called out league commissioner Cathy Engelbert for failing to condemn a spike in racist attacks on players. It’s been a long-standing problem exacerbated by the rivalry between Indiana Fever star Caitlin Clark and the Chicago Sky’s Angel Reese. The league has never been more popular than it is now, and with that success, fans have escalated their criticism of players. 

Since then, Engelbert has addressed the rise in player harassment on social media in an address prior to Game 1 of the WNBA finals one week ago. 

“It just is something where we have to continue to be a voice for this, a voice against it, condemning it, and making sure that we find every opportunity to support our players, who have been dealing with this for much longer than this year,” Engelbert said.

In her address, Engelbert pledged the league will work with the players’ union to figure out what they can do together to combat it. 

“We continue to emphasize that there is absolutely no room for hateful or threatening comments made about players, teams or anyone affiliated with the WNBA,” a league spokesperson said in response to questions about the death threats made against Stewart and Xargay. “We’re aware of the most recent matter and are working with league and team security as well as law enforcement on appropriate security measures.”

The Liberty play the Lynx again Friday night in Minneapolis. 

Drag legend Lady Bunny is back in Los Angeles in “Don’t Bring the Kids,” her laugh-out-loud comedy show that has been selling out venues nationwide. Known for her towering wigs, sharp wit, and fearless attitude, Bunny’s latest revue delivers everything fans love about her—and more. On Saturday, October 19, at 6 p.m., “Don’t Bring the Kids” lands at The Vault in the Beverly Center, promising an early evening of pure, unfiltered entertainment that’s definitely not for the faint of heart.

So, what can fans expect from Lady Bunny this time around? True to form, “Don’t Bring the Kids” is packed with jaw-dropping moments, from parodies of pop icons like Adele and Cardi B to an original dance tune called “Is It Ozempic, Or…”, based on Bunny’s distorted views of the popular weight-loss drug. “The show is a mix of musical styles,” Bunny explains.  It even includes a dishy number about some of your favorite queens from RuPaul’s Drag Race. “I tease Trixie Mattel for stealing my look, call out Willam for being a whore, and do a remake of ‘Big Dick Energy’ about Yvie Oddly. Let’s just say the rumors are true,” she says.

“Drag Race has given me plenty of material,” she reflects.  “I love poking fun at the queens, and I always update my act with topical humor.”

“Don’t Bring the Kids” isn’t merely about drag celebrity gossip. Bunny tackles serious issues, like defending drag queen story hours in the face of conservative backlash. “As I say in the show, ‘Look at my wig. I can barely groom myself!’” Bunny quips. 

There’s also a parody of the viral spat between Marjorie Taylor Greene and Representative Jasmine Crockett, and Bunny takes the opportunity to unveil her brand-new bitch track, “Pussy This Good”, out now on all platforms.

The performance pushes boundaries, and Bunny admits that’s exactly the point. “I came up in the late-night NYC club scene where we were encouraged to be as wild and dirty as possible. My humor isn’t for everyone, and it’s certainly not for kids — hence the title.”

“Don’t Bring the Kids” is both a warning and a promise. Bunny makes it clear that her comedy is strictly for mature audiences, with jokes and performances that might be too much even for some adults. “I’ve always felt it’s important to be upfront,” she continues. “I love dark, raunchy humor, and that’s what my audience comes for. Every show so far has gotten a standing ovation, and we’ve sold out in Philly, DC, and San Francisco.”

For Bunny, bringing her show to LA, particularly at The Vault, is an exciting opportunity. “I’ve worked with Voss Events (the show’s producer) for years, and they found this fantastic space.  I DJed there this past New Year’s Eve, and it’s perfect — great stage, excellent sound. I’m excited to be back in LA, a city that always knows how to appreciate a little twisted drag humor.”

Of course, no Lady Bunny interview would be complete without a few words about her longtime friendship with Troy Masters, publisher of LA Blade. “Troy and I go way back,” Bunny recalls. “One of my first magazine covers was for Outweek, a publication he ran back in the ’80s.  I was still thin then and working my own blonde hair! He’s been such a supporter, even hiring me to work as a phone monitor for his boyfriend’s sex line. I’d pop onto the leather line in a queeny voice, calling myself ‘Humphrey Davenport, dominant top.’ The leather guys hated it, but I thought it was hilarious.”

Lady Bunny presents “Don’t Bring the Kids” at The Vault in the Beverly Center on Saturday, October 19^th at 6pm.  For ticket’s visit VossEvents.com.

Whether it’s “Hocus Pocus” or “Sabrina” or “Agatha All Along,” gay men have always had an affinity for witches, and comedian Tim Murray’s one-man show “Witches” dissects our love of powerful female outcasts while telling his own hilarious stories about growing up gay in the Midwest.

“Witches,” which Murray describes as part stand-up, part drag, part musical comedy, debuted at the prestigious Edinburgh Fringe Festival where it got rave reviews, and now Murray’s taking it on his biggest tour yet, with 26 dates across the United States, Canada, and the UK. The show plays at Los Angeles’ Elysian Theatre Oct. 15 and Washington, D.C.’s Comedy Loft Oct. 24.

“I think there’s something special about all queer people that just feels like we are not part of the norm,” Murray says. “I was like literally the only boy in my whole junior high school who wasn’t on the football team. So, we look for the stuff that we think is unique and special on the outside, and usually those are villains in movies or TV shows. Or witches.” 

Murray says there are close parallels between the gay experience and the classical presentation of witches who have to hide their supernatural nature or withdraw from society.

“They need to hide, and actually that thing they think they need to hide is what makes them special. And they figure that out when they find their other witches, their coven,” he says. 

“But I think in an even simpler way, we love women. We love women with long hair and fierce nails. Gay men are so attracted to powerful women because they saved us growing up. You know, the girls on the playground who would like play with us when we didn’t want to do the ‘masc’ stuff.”

Murray grew up in Sandusky, Ohio, where he says, “It felt like being gay was like the worst thing you could be.”

“I love Sandusky. It was an amazing place to grow up and it’s an amazing place to live. I love going back there. The community is so supportive of me. But growing up in a small town in the Midwest in the 90s was, for a gay person, like what you’d think it would be like. I didn’t know any gay people.”

“I definitely learned how to code-switch and try to pass as straight, which is kind of a big theme of the show. You want to hide what makes you special and hide your powers because people don’t understand it. That is something I’ve had to unlearn and honestly doing this show helps me heal from that.” 

But code-switching and passing aren’t Murray’s only gay superpowers.

“There’s a whole universe that we get to unlock with our gay friends. Our sexuality is different than it is in straight culture,” Murray says. “We do kind of have this extra power. We have like a pop culture knowledge that most straight people don’t have. And I think there’s like a resilience factor that you get. There’s a way to relate to other gay people that is like a communal coven that not everybody gets.

“I used to think, ‘Oh God, I would give anything to not be this way,’ as a kid. Like I would give anything to not be gay. But now I really do feel like there’s a whole cavalcade of things I can do and talk about as a stand-up comedian because I’m gay.”

His gay coven has come in handy as Murray has taken off on his rocket ride to success over the past couple of years. Aside from witches, he’s co-headlined a comedy tour with YouTube sensation Michael Henry, appeared on the HBO comedy The Other Two, racked up hundreds of thousands of followers on TikTok and Instagram, and next year, he’ll be starring in a new queer sketch comedy TV show with Henry and produced by Trixie Mattel called Wish You Were Queer.

“I lived in New York for a long time, and I cut my teeth well there, but there’s always kind of a bit of a part of me that has this idea myself as, you know, a theater artist… and through hanging out with other successful people and through therapy I just have really gotten over my block around that and just been like, ‘okay, just keep putting stuff out there until it touches fire.’” 

“When Michael Henry and I first started doing our stand up together, I did have this like imposter syndrome, and then I just started to really lean in. If a video did well, I would just use that same format and just try to write new jokes for it.

 “Like it’s okay to have a brand. It’s okay to have this like Los Angeles marketing side of your brain and of your career work like use what’s working. Don’t fight it.”

As he brings Witches across the country, Murray says he’s discovering that now he’s become thee powerful witch that queer audiences are craving.

“People are very much like, ‘Thank you so much for coming here. We don’t get this kind of thing that often,’ which is so cool. You know, it’s awesome to go to a city like Denver or Vancouver or Louisville. It just feels really special to see these queer people and these towns.”

“The people who really love with witches just feel so attached to it, which is amazing. In Chicago, a girl made buttons with my face on them and handed them out to everyone in the audience. The response has been crazy.”

“Witches” plays at the Elysian Theatre in Los Angeles Oct. 15 at 7:30 p.m. Witches also plays at the Comedy Loft in Washington, D.C. Oct. 24 at 7:30 p.m. 

‘Thom Gunn: A Cool Queer Life’
By Michael Nott
c.2024, Farrar, Straus and Giroux
$40/720 pages

A confession: Until reading “Thom Gunn: A Cool Queer Life,” I hadn’t known much about the accomplished, controversial gay poet’s life or read many of his poems. But this first biography makes me feel like I know him and his large body of work intimately. Michael Nott, coeditor of “The Letters of Thom Gunn,” draws on interviews with friends and family, as well as Gunn’s letters, notebooks, and diaries, to tell the triumphs and tragedies of his life.

Born in England in 1929 to journalist parents, when he was 15, he and his younger brother Ander found their mother dead from suicide. He would not discuss this tragic event in his poetry for years, including one of his last poems “My Mother’s Pride.” He published his first book of poems, “Fighting Terms,” while still an undergraduate at Cambridge University.

At Cambridge, Gunn met his life-long partner, Mike Kitay, an American studying theater. Gunn followed Kitay to America, studying poetry under Yvor Winters at Stanford University. At one point, Kitay, doing his military service, was investigated as part of suspicion of homosexuality among his unit. Gunn wrote to friends of his worry both of what might happen to Kitay as well as to himself. While nothing happened, the event reminds us of the precarious state in which gay men lived until recently.

Eventually, they settled in San Francisco, which Gunn loved. Even when he became worldwide famous, he enjoyed the anonymity of the city’s gay bars, where he could pick up men. He taught at UC Berkeley for 40 years, one term every year so he could concentrate on his poetry. His and Kitay’s home was filled with friends and sex partners, usually of Gunn. This arrangement seems common for many gay men of the time, reminiscent of Dan Savage’s idea of “monogamish,” where committed gay couples might have other side partners.

In San Francisco, Gunn discovered leather and drugs, both of which he took to readily. He caused a stir by appearing in his British publisher’s conservative club in leather gear. Toward the end of his life, he became a crystal meth addict, frequently using with other addicts whom he also slept with. In 2004, his housemates found him dead from substance abuse.

He explored leather, drugs, and gay sexuality frequently in his poems. His collection “Moly” (named after the drug in The Odyssey protecting from the witch Circe’s magic), looked at the appeal and downfall of drugs. The Man with Night Sweats, perhaps his most famous collection, dealt with the AIDS epidemic, the painful death of so many friends and lovers. He won the MacArthur Foundation “Genius” grant afterwards.

The biography presents Gunn in all his humanity, from his poetic genius to his insecurities. After each book came out, he struggled with writer’s block, which led to hookups and drug use. As he aged, he worried about finding “gerontophiles” who would sleep with him. I hope this book encourages readers to discover or revisit his work, filled with the joys and complexities of modern gay life.

It’s funny – and by funny, we mean ironic – how things that were once on the fringes of our culture, experienced by few and appreciated by even fewer, become respectable after they’ve been around for half a century or more. The Blade herself can probably attest to that.

Cheap, self-deprecating one-liners aside, there’s something to celebrate about the ability to survive and thrive for decades despite being mostly ignored by the mainstream “tastemakers” of our society – which is why, in honor of the 50th anniversary of its release, we can’t help but take an appreciative look back at John Waters’s arguable masterpiece, “Female Trouble,” which debuted in movie theaters on Oct. 11, 1974 and was promptly dismissed and forgotten by most of American society. 

Waters had already made his breakthrough with 1972’s “Pink Flamingos,” which more or less helped the “Midnight Movie” become a counterculture touchstone of the seventies and eighties beyond while making his star (and muse) Glenn Milstead – aka Divine – into an underground sensation. Naturally, expectations for this follow-up were high among his already growing cult following, who were hungry for more of his gleefully transgressive anarchy. But while it certainly delivered what they craved, it would have been hard for any movie to surpass the sensation caused by the latter, which had already broken perhaps the ultimate onscreen taboo by ending with a scene of Divine’s character eating a freshly deposited dollop of dog feces. Though “Female Trouble” offered plenty of its own hilariously shocking (and occasionally revolting) thrills, it had no standout “WTF” moment of its own to “top” that one. Subsequently, the curious mainstream, who were never going to be Waters fans anyway, lost interest.

For his true audience, however, it was anything but a let-down. After all, it featured most of the same outrageous cast members and doubled down on the ferociously radical camp that had made “Flamingos” notorious even among the “straight” (as in “square”) crowd; and while it maintained the bargain basement “guerilla” style the director had perfected throughout his early years of DIY filmmaking in Boston, it nevertheless displayed a savvy for cinematic craft that allowed Waters to both subvert and pay homage to the old-school Hollywood movies his (mostly) queer fans had grown up loving – and making fun of – just like him. It was quickly embraced, joining “Flamingos” on art house double bills across the U.S. and helping the Waters cult to grow until he finally won the favor of the masses with his more socially palatable “Hairspray” in 1988.

Fifty years later, there is little doubt that “Female Trouble” has displaced “Flamingos” as Waters’s quintessential work. Riding high on the heels of the latter, the director had both a bolstered self-confidence and an assured audience awaiting his next film, and he outdid himself by creating an ambitious and breathtakingly grotesque black comedy that frequently feels like we’re watching a crime being committed on film. Ostensibly framed as a “cautionary tale” of “juvenile delinquency,” it follows the life story of Dawn Davenport (Divine), who abandons social conformity once and for all when her parents fail to give her the black cha-cha heeled shoes she wanted for Christmas. Running away from home, she quickly becomes an unwed mother, leading her to a life of crime as she tries to support her unruly and ungrateful daughter Taffy (Hilary Taylor, later Waters stalwart Mink Stole). Things seem to turn around when she is accepted as a client at the exclusive “Le Lipstique” beauty salon, where owners Donald and Donna Dasher (David Lochery and Mary Vivian Pearce) take a particular interest in her, and marries star hairdresser Gater (Michael Potter) despite the objections of his doting Aunt Ida (Edith Massey), who wants him to “turn Nelly” and avoid the “sick and boring life” of a heterosexual.  

From there, Waters’s absurdly melodramatic saga enters the realm of pure lunacy. Dawn’s marriage inevitably fails, and she falls under the influence of the Dashers, who use her as an experiment to prove their theory that “Crime equals Beauty” and get her hooked on shooting up liquid eyeliner; Gater leaves for Detroit to pursue a career in the “auto in-DUS-try”, and his doting Aunt Ida (Edith Massey) disfigures Dawn’s face by dousing it with acid; Taffy goes on a quest to find her deadbeat dad and ends up murdering him before joining the Hare Krishna movement; and things culminate in a murderous nightclub performance by the now-thoroughly deranged Dawn, which earns her a date with the electric chair for the film’s literally “shocking” finale.

It would be easy to rhapsodize over the many now-iconic highlights of “Female Trouble” – some of our favorites are its hilarious early scenes of Dawn’s life as a high school delinquent, the Christmas morning rampage in which she destroys her parents’ living room like Godzilla on a bender in Tokyo, “Bad Seed”-ish Taffy’s torment of her mother via jump rope rhymes and car crash re-enactments on the living room furniture, Aunt Ida’s persistent attempts to set up Gater on a “boy date,” and the master stroke of double-casting Divine as the low-life mechanic who fathers Taffy and thereby allows him to literally fuck himself onscreen – but every Waters fan has a list of their own.

Likewise, we could take a scholarly approach, and point out the “method” in the madness by highlighting themes or cultural commentaries that might be observed, such as the film’s way of ridiculing the straight world’s view of queer existence by presenting it to them in an over-the-top caricature of their own narrative tropes, or its seeming prescience in spoofing pop culture’s obsession with glamour, beauty, and toxic behavior as entertainment decades before the advent and domination of “reality” TV – but those things have been said many times already, and none of them really have anything to do with why we love it so much.

What we love is the freakishness of it; Waters revealed years after the fact that Divine’s “look” as Dawn Davenport was inspired by a photo from Diane Arbus, whose work served as a testament to the anonymous fringe figures of American culture, but it could be said that all of his characters, in this and in all his early films, might also be drawn from one of her images. It’s that, perhaps, that is the key to its appeal: it’s a movie about “freaks,” made for freaks by someone who is a freak themself. It makes us laugh at all of its excesses simply because they are funny – and the fact that the NON-freaks don’t “get it” just makes them all the funnier.

As Aunt Ida says, “Queers are just better” – and in this case, we mean “queer” as in “different than the boring norm.”

In any case, queer or otherwise, celebrate your freakishness by watching “Female Trouble” in honor of its anniversary this weekend. Whether it’s your umpteenth time or your first, it will be 97 minutes you won’t regret.

APLA Health will celebrate its 40th anniversary this Sunday at West Hollywood Park, by kicking off the world’s first and oldest AIDS walk with a special appearance by Salina Estitties, live entertainment, and speeches.

APLA Health, which was formerly known as AIDS Project Los Angeles, serves the underserved LGBTQ+ communities of Los Angeles by providing them with resources. 

“We are steadfast in our efforts to end the HIV epidemic in our lifetime. Through the use of tools like PrEP and PEP, the science of ‘undetectable equals intransmissible,’ and our working to ensure broad access to LGTBQ+ empowering healthcare, we can make a real step forward in the fight to end this disease,” said APLA Health’s chief executive officer, Craig E. Thompson. 

For 40 years, APLA Health has spearheaded programs, facilitated healthcare check-ups and provided other essential services to nearly 20,000 members of the LGBTQ+ community annually in Los Angeles, regardless of their ability to pay. 

APLA Health provides LGBTQ+ primary care, dental care, behavioral healthcare, HIV specialty care, and other support services for housing and nutritional needs.

The AIDS Walk will begin at 10AM and registrations are open for teams and solo walkers. More information can be found on the APLA Health’s website.