Playwright Samuel D. Hunter has long been attracted to telling stories about people that society often overlooks. So it’s fitting that his play “Clarkston,” getting its West Coast premiere this month from Los Angeles’s Echo Theater digs into the lives of two gay nightshift workers at a small town Costco.

Chris is a frustrated wannabe writer stuck taking care of his meth-addicted mom in the dead-end town of Clarkston, Wash. Jake is a distant relative of the explorer William Clark who’s fled his Connecticut hometown after receiving a fatal medical diagnosis. When they’re assigned to the same night shift in the warehouse, their mutual attraction grows into something more complicated. 

For Echo Theater Artistic Director Chris Fields, who is also directing the production, “Clarkston” is a love story about how American consumerism affects our ability to connect.

“Costco for me is a very difficult place. It’s sort of about gross consumerism. You go into Costco and after five minutes, you’re like, ‘There’s nothing wrong with getting 14 steaks,’” Fields says. “I think [Hunter] puts it in there because it’s really a symbol of consumerism and alienation. Now imagine being in Costco at night under the fluorescents, moving pallets of boxes of gargantuan size.” 

To prepare himself and his actors to inhabit the lives of Costco workers, Fields says he took his team to the big box store to do on-the-ground research.

“We did a field trip to Costco. We found a warehouse manager, the floor manager, and it’s like, oh, there are people that work here. And you know what? They were great. They were lovely. They couldn’t have been more charming and sweet and helpful.”

Fields says the Costco staff even gave them pallets to use on stage for that extra bit of authenticity.

“I tried to get them to give us a pallet jack, and they were like, ‘uhh …’” he says.

Hunter is best known for his play “The Whale,” which was turned into the Academy Award-winning film of the same name. 

But in contrast to the often dreary and miserable tone of that play, Fields says “Clarkston” finds great joy in the lives of its protagonists.

“There’s not only joy in the play, but one of the things that makes it so emotional is these boys get to be gay with each other,” Fields says. 

Playing the graveyard-shift lovers are LA Drama Critics Circle Award-winner Michael Sturgis and newcomer Sean Luc Rogers, a recent Yale graduate that Fields expects will make a big splash soon. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if in a couple years he couldn’t work with us because he’s in Vancouver shooting a series for the rest of his life,” he says.

They’re joined by Tasha Ames, fresh off her own LA Drama Critics Circle Award win for last year’s “Do You Feel Anger?”, playing Chris’s drug-addicted mom.

“They’re heartbreakers, you know? They come on stage and their hearts are open,” Fields says.

Fields hopes that despite the enormous struggles the characters are dealing with in “Clarkston,” audiences will leave feeling like there’s light at the end of the tunnel.

“You know, it’s hard. To get a car with gas that costs too much money, you can’t go out to eat anymore because it’s so expensive, we might be electing a fucking dictator in the study.

“It’s hard, and I think what I want them to come away with is that feeling when the good guys win. It can work out and it’s really kind of wonderful to be you, despite the fact that we make messes all the time,” Fields says.

‘Clarkston’ opens Sept 14 and runs Friday, Saturday, and Monday at 8 p.m., and Sunday at 4 p.m. at Atwater Village Theater, 3269 Casitas Ave., Los Angeles. Tickets are available here.

It’s reasonable to assume, if you’re someone with an interest in “hidden” queer history, that you are already aware of the speculation that Abraham Lincoln might have been gay, or at least bisexual.

Those labels didn’t exist in his time, but the 16th POTUS left a trail of eyebrow-raising same-sex relationships, nonetheless, which many scholars consider as evidence that he was likely a member of what we now call the LGBTQ community.

The discussion around Lincoln’s sexuality has always been broadly drawn and ambiguously cloaked by 19th-century social norms (which [spoiler alert] were not quite as Puritanical as we might believe). Conclusions must be drawn by inference, so it’s no surprise that many historians tend to be wary of projecting modern-day interpretations on a past era. Such experts warn against drawing conclusions from a between-the-lines reading of “official” history; by that standard, whatever the implications might suggest, there’s simply no way to prove anything, one way or another, and that’s the end of the story.

Others, however, are not so eager to close the discussion – and that’s where the creators of “Lover of Men: The Untold History of Abraham Lincoln,” a new documentary conveniently timed for release mere months ahead of what might be our most crucial election so far when it comes to the subject of LGBTQ acceptance and equality, decided to step in and set the record (if you’ll pardon the expression) straight.

Directed by Shaun Peterson – who co-wrote alongside Joshua Koffman, Grace Leeson, and Robert Rosenheck – and unapologetically committed to piercing the opacity of a biography that contains too many “red flags” to ignore, it’s a documentary that eschews neutrality to make a case for claiming “Honest Abe” as the most prominent LGBTQ hero in the Great American Story. Unfolded by expert historians – both queer and otherwise – as an intimate portrait of a profoundly public figure, it charts Lincoln’s life through a lens trained on private experience, and goes beyond that to frame the much-beloved president’s growth and transformation into one of the world’s most significant leaders as a probable consequence of the “friendships” he experienced with the men who were his closest companions during different periods of his life.

Most of the attention is directed, unsurprisingly, at Joshua Speed, the handsome shopkeeper with whom, for four years of his young manhood, Lincoln shared a bed as a matter of “convenience” – despite offers of free and private lodgings elsewhere and a successful law practice that would have allowed him to buy a bed of his own and a house in which to put it. Casting Speed as “the love of Lincoln’s life,” it positions him (through plentiful historical documentation) as the man who helped the future president find his mojo; even so, it goes on to present evidence supporting less well-known male companions as catalysts to Lincoln’s maturation both as a commander-in-chief and a human being.

We won’t go into much detail here; the movie does a better job of illuminating the record than we ever could – and it does so not by relying solely on the speculation of possibly biased commentators, but by presenting “the receipts” as they appear in the indisputable (yet under-discussed) historical record. Gleaned from private correspondences and interviews with Lincoln’s primary contemporary biographer, these details reveal (among other things) the future president’s ambivalence toward women, the questionable context in which Lincoln bedded down with his various male companions, and the emotional bond he had with each of them that seemed to overshadow the one he shared with his eventual first lady, Mary Todd Lincoln – who, at least through the lens cast upon her here, was probably more in love with the idea of being married to a president than she was to the president she married.

No, there’s no “smoking gun” (again, pardon the expression) to be found by the erudite scholars who expound upon the persuasively numerous clues contained in Lincoln’s biography during the course of the film. There are, however, plenty of tell-tale powder burns. By exploring the nuance behind the many documented-but-veiled suggestions about the martyred president’s relationships, both male and female, this varied assortment of historians highlights the points that strike a familiar chord for queer people even if they’re likely to go unconsidered by anyone else. By the end, “Lover of Men” has expertly pleaded its case and rested it, relying on the weight and volume of its circumstantial evidence to satisfy any reasonable doubt.

The final verdict, of course, remains up to the individual viewer, and it unfortunately goes without saying that a good many will be watching with intent to discredit any hint of queerness within Lincoln’s biography, if they even watch it at all. Yet while it’s easy to reject an idea when you’ve already made up your mind that it’s false, it’s just as easy to accept one that you want to be true; and though the historians of Peterson’s smart and sassy movie carry an undeniable weight of credibility in their arguments, what remains indisputably accurate is that there is no way to know with certainty if our most-revered president was shaded with the “lavender” referenced by his poetic biographer Carl Sandburg to describe his nature in a later-prudently deleted passage of prose.

That’s perfectly all right, though. “Lover of Men” never tries to claim, unequivocally, that Lincoln belonged in the LGBTQ rainbow, only that the likely probability that he was is worthy of consideration. Further, it goes on to highlight the open-minded empathy that allowed him to pivot his viewpoint in ways that are typically unthinkable in politics; the evolution it charts for Lincoln from gifted country bumpkin to fully aware (dare we say “woke”?) humanitarian leader makes him an ideological model that feels crucial today. That having to suppress his true nature may have shaped the values and ideals that would ultimately help him to change the world makes the film’s arguments even more persuasive; and if its re-enactments of encounters between Lincoln and his alleged male lovers read as a little too modern to be true, they certainly convey a more plausible interpretation than can be found in any surface reading of the scrupulously polite language describing such events in the historic record.

Reinforced by filmed footage of the now-historically preserved sites (the smallness of an old shared cot speaks volumes) where Lincoln’s intimate life took place, these fancifully anachronistic translations of 19th-century queer courtship into something instantly recognizable to modern queer viewers succeed in making it difficulty to cling to a denial that this particular American icon might plausibly have been queer – unless you are very deeply invested, for whatever reason, in doing so.

Sadly, that last point means a great many people will probably reject this passionately earnest piece of info-tainment sight unseen; but for those who don’t, it offers an intelligent and reasonable perspective on one of our most important national icons that can only increase his relevance in an age almost as divisive as the one over which he was destined to preside.

In other words, don’t miss it.

In an enlightening interview with the Los Angeles Blade, Chris Tompkins, author of “Raising LGBTQ Allies,” shares invaluable insights on fostering acceptance and understanding in families and communities. Tompkins, inspired by a personal experience with his young nephew, delves into the complexities of discussing gender and sexuality with children, addressing internalized biases, and the importance of proactive, open conversations. His book, which has garnered critical acclaim, offers a compassionate guide for parents, educators, and LGBTQ individuals alike, aiming to create a more inclusive world for future generations.

Los Angeles Blade: What inspired you to write “Raising LGBTQ Allies”?

Chris Tompkins: A question from my six-year-old nephew inspired me. Despite being out and supported by my family, he asked if a woman sitting next to me was my girlfriend. This made me realize that homophobia can be multilayered, sophisticated, and sometimes manifest as silence.

Los Angeles Blade: How did your upbringing influence your work?

Chris Tompkins: Growing up gay in a religious household, I struggled with my relationship with God. Reconnecting with my version of a “higher power” was transformative. My experiences teaching social-emotional learning and working with the LGBTQ community have shown me the importance of spirituality and self-love.

Los Angeles Blade: Why is your book important for LGBTQ community members, whether they have kids or not?

Chris Tompkins: It helped me realize my own responsibility in raising LGBTQ allies, even as a single, out-of-state uncle. The book encourages LGBTQ individuals to embody the change they want to see in younger generations.

Los Angeles Blade: Who could benefit from your book?

Chris Tompkins: While it’s titled for parents, “Raising LGBTQ Allies” is also a resource for LGBTQ community members to heal from trauma and toxic shame, especially given the current surge of anti-LGBTQ legislation.

Los Angeles Blade: Why is addressing trauma and shame important for the LGBTQ community?

Chris Tompkins: Trauma stems from chronic invalidation, which is common in the LGBTQ experience. Addressing these issues is crucial for mental, emotional, and spiritual wellbeing.

Los Angeles Blade: Can you explain the concept of trauma in the context of LGBTQ experiences?

Chris Tompkins: Trauma can be subtle and insidious, like the “thousand paper cuts” of chronic invalidation. Even in seemingly accepting environments, internalized shame can persist, affecting mental health and leading to coping mechanisms like substance abuse.

Los Angeles Blade: What is “Benign Neglect” and how does it relate to LGBTQ issues?

Chris Tompkins: “Benign Neglect” refers to the unintended consequences of not communicating about important issues. In LGBTQ contexts, it’s often manifested as parents avoiding discussions about gender and sexuality with children, which can inadvertently perpetuate shame and misunderstanding.

Los Angeles Blade: How can parents discuss sexuality with young children in LGBTQ-affirming ways?

Chris Tompkins: Include same-sex examples in everyday conversations and challenge gender stereotypes. Start these discussions early – children as young as six can understand these concepts when explained appropriately.

Los Angeles Blade: How can adults ensure a child has a healthy space for self-discovery?

Chris Tompkins: Be curious and create space for open, honest conversations. It’s our responsibility to learn who children are, not for them to teach us.

Los Angeles Blade: Any advice for adults uncomfortable with these conversations?

Chris Tompkins: Focus on keeping open, not keeping up. It’s okay to feel uncertain, but don’t let that prevent you from having these important discussions.

Los Angeles Blade: What’s your perspective on the recent surge of anti-LGBTQ legislation?

Chris Tompkins: It’s a countercultural dynamic, like a pendulum swinging back after progress. This emphasizes the importance of proactive conversations to challenge bias and raise allies.

CHRIS TOMPKINS is an LGBTQ-affirming therapist who specializes in gay men’s identity and religious trauma.

Los Angeles Blade: Can you discuss problematic language in LGBTQ conversations?

Chris Tompkins: Words like “issues,” “lifestyle,” “different,” and “trend” can be harmful. They often carry subconscious bias and can unintentionally perpetuate the idea that being LGBTQ is a choice. It’s important to be mindful of our language.

Los Angeles Blade: How can we recognize and unravel our own biases?

Chris Tompkins: Start with self-reflection. Recognize that growing up in a heteronormative culture affects everyone’s beliefs. Consider the possibility that children in your life might be LGBTQ to help disrupt heteronormative thinking.

Los Angeles Blade: What are “messages from the playground”?

Chris Tompkins: It’s a metaphor for subconscious beliefs we pick up in childhood about gender, sexuality, and identity. These “messages” shape our worldview and can perpetuate shame if not addressed.

Los Angeles Blade: When and how should parents answer questions about where babies come from?

Chris Tompkins: Answer when children ask, as their curiosity indicates readiness. Use age-appropriate explanations. Discussing gender and sexuality early helps remove shame and fosters respect for these aspects of identity.

Los Angeles Blade: What’s the most important message you hope parents take from your book?

Chris Tompkins: This is a conversation for all parents, not just those with LGBTQ kids. Do the work yourself and maintain open, honest dialogues with your children.

Los Angeles Blade: How can readers engage more with your work?

Chris Tompkins: Visit my website, www.aroadtriptolove.com, or find me on Instagram: @aroadtriptolove.

Los Angeles Blade: What’s next for you and the book?

Chris Tompkins: “Raising LGBTQ Allies” has been published in Spanish and Vietnamese, with a paperback release on October 1st. It recently received the 2024 APA Distinguished Book Award, which will help it reach more readers, including educators and administrators.

Los Angeles Blade: Where can we find your book?

Chris Tompkins: It’s available wherever books are sold. You can pre-order the paperback edition now.

Los Angeles Blade: Any final advice?

Chris Tompkins: Don’t let fear of saying the wrong thing prevent you from speaking up. Ask for guidance, follow your heart, and remember that having these conversations is changing the narrative for future generations.

CHRIS TOMPKINS is an LGBTQ-affirming therapist who specializes in gay men’s identity and religious trauma. His work has been featured on TEDx, NBC, HuffPost, Psychology Today, the Advocate, and more. An uncle of five, Chris believes the privilege of a lifetime is being able to affirm all children for who they are. www.aroadtriptolove.com 

Valentina Petrillo ran her personal best Monday at the Paralympics in Paris, but it was not enough to qualify for Tuesday’s finals in the 400m T12 competition. Losing to two cisgender women was also not enough to quell a social media firestorm of transphobia and hate directed at the first out trans Paralympian runner.

Hajar Safarzadeh Ghahderijani of Iran was first across the finish line, followed by Venezuela’s Alejandra Perez. Petrillo, the Italian sprinter, finished third with 57.58.

“I tried until the end, I couldn’t do it,” Petrillo, 51, told reporters after the race. “I missed that last straight. I pushed harder than this morning and I tried. They are stronger than me. There is nothing I can do. I had to do 56 to get into the final. It’s impossible, 57.58. I have to be happy even though I’m a little upset.” 

Petrillo also spoke indirectly about haters, but what concerned her most, she said, was the perspective of her son, 9-year-old Lorenzo, who calls her “Dad.” 

“I hope my son is proud of me,” Petrillo, said, amid tears. “That’s important to me because I’m a trans dad, it’s not everyone’s dream dad. But I hope he will be proud of me. I hope he will always stand by me, I hope that he loves me even if I am like this. I can’t help it if I’m like this, I’m sorry. Don’t treat trans people badly. We suffer. It’s not fair. We don’t hurt anybody.” 

JK Rowling disagrees. 

In a social media post on what was Twitter, the outspoken opponent of trans rights and inclusion denounced Petrillo as an “out and proud cheat.” 

Why all the anger about the inspirational Petrillo? The cheat community has never had this kind of visibility! Out and proud cheats like Petrillo prove the era of cheat-shaming is over. What a role model! I say we give Lance Armstrong his medals back and move on. #Cheats #NoShame pic.twitter.com/bvqhs3DexI

— J.K. Rowling (@jk_rowling) September 2, 2024

Others condemned Petrillo as a “pervert,” a “disgrace” and of course, a man, and a “biological male” who “robbed a young disabled woman” of her chance to compete. 

🚨BREAKING🚨

A biologically male runner has just qualified for the Women's 400m T12 semi-finals at the Paris Paralympic Games.

Valentina Petrillo, a father of two, previously won 11 national titles in the men's category before beginning to identify as a "woman." pic.twitter.com/7CqLuFD8dB

— REDUXX (@ReduxxMag) September 2, 2024

The 50-year-old Italian transgender athlete Valentina Petrillo robbed a young disabled woman from a spot in the semifinals of the Paris Paralympics today

Petrillo has previously said that those who don't want Petrillo to compete against females are "on the same level as Hitler." pic.twitter.com/DLU2hxWEVD

— Visegrád 24 (@visegrad24) September 2, 2024

Petrillo has one more chance to compete for a medal this Friday in the 200m T12 visual impairment competition. She’ll compete against Katrin Mueller-Rottgardt of Germany.

“Basically, everyone should live how they like in everyday life,” Mueller-Rottgardt told the German tabloid Bild. “But I find it difficult in professional sports. She lived and trained for a long time as a man, so there’s a possibility that physical conditions are different than for someone who comes into the world as a woman. So, she could have advantages from it.” 

For her part, Petrillo is not letting detractors stop her from running as the woman she is and living as the woman she is. 

“There are lots of people dying only for being trans, people are killed because they are trans, people commit suicide because they are trans and lose their jobs, or are not included in sport,” she said. “But I made it. If I can make it, everyone can make it.” 

As for so-called “advantages,” Petrillo cites a study funded by the IOC — and published in April in the British Journal of Sports Medicine — showing that trans women are actually at a physical disadvantage compared to cis women across several areas, including lung function and lower body strength.

“This means rather that I have a disadvantage, because apart from anything else, going through hormonal treatment means I am going against my body so against the biology of my body and that’s certainly something that’s not good for it,” Petrillo told the Associated Press in an interview in a suburb of Bologna, where she lives and works in the IT sector. 

She was diagnosed with Stargardt disease, a degenerative eye condition, at the age of 14, and can only see 1/50^th of what most people can. Petrillo cannot drive and uses public transportation to get around, and told me in a 2020 podcast interview that the trauma of her disability has haunted her all her years.

“I tried to lead a normal life as much as possible,” she said through a translator.  

Although her condition forced her to give up running as a teen, she picked it up again in her 40s, telling me it felt empowering, “Knowing I have two good legs,” she said. “Running is life.”

But it was not enough. Petrillo, who was raised as a boy, had been keeping a secret since she was a child, saying that even at age seven, she knew who she was. “I didn’t feel like myself.”

“I decided to transition after years of fighting myself and not understanding what was the problem,” Petrillo said. “It was a very difficult decision.” 

Petrillo came out to her wife, Elena, in 2017, just one year after they wed. With Elena’s support, she transitioned in 2018 and started her medical transition the following January. They remained married, for a time, and have another child in addition to Lorenzo. “My wife is very supportive,” Petrillo told me in 2020. “99 percent of the stories end up in divorce, but my wife is the most important love of my life.” 

Elena and Valentina have since divorced but remain friends. She and Lorenzo and Petrillo’s brother, Francesco, were in Paris to cheer her on.

“Family is everything,” she said this week. 

Petrillo won 11 national competitions in the male T12 category between 2015 and 2018, then won gold in her first official race as the woman she is, in the 100m, 200m and 400m T12 events at the 2020 Italian Paralympics Championship. Last year, she won two bronzes at the World Para Athletics Championships. 

In that competition, she narrowly beat Melani Berges of Spain, who placed fourth in the semifinal. That meant Berges didn’t qualify for the final and missed her chance to make it to the Paralympics.

Calling it an “injustice,” Berges told Spanish sports site Relevo that she “accepts and respects” trans people, but “we are no longer talking about daily life, we are talking about sport, which requires strength, a physique.”

The International Paralympic Committee says it “welcomes” Petrillo, who is not the first out trans Paralympian. That honor belongs to Dutch discus thrower Ingrid van Kranen, who finished ninth in the 2016 Rio Games. The rules of the World Para Athletics organization state a person who is legally recognized as a woman is eligible to compete in female categories. She legally changed her name and gender in 2023. 

Back in 2020, Petrillo told me the 200m race she will compete in this Friday is her favorite, because of the performance of her personal hero, 1980 Olympic champion Pietro Mennea, who holds Italy’s world record in the event. 

“I’m dreaming about this,” she said, recalling the memory of seeing him compete when she was seven years old. “The determination that Mennea showed was something he taught all of us. That is how I feel when I am running. That same determination and that same drive.” And she said again, “Running is life.”  

Jussie Smollett, the actor and musician who was convicted of lying to the police about being the victim of a homophobic and racist hate crime that he staged in 2019, attended a screening of his latest film “The Lost Holliday” in a packed auditorium of the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Library on Aug. 28. 

In an interview with the Blade that took place before the screening, he continued to assert his innocence and responded to concerns within the LGBTQ community that his case has discouraged real victims from reporting hate crimes. 

The former “Empire” star wrote, produced, and directed “The Lost Holliday,” his second feature film to direct following 2021’s “B-Boy Blues.” Produced through Smollett’s company, SuperMassive Movies, he stars in the film alongside Vivica A. Fox, who also served as a producer and attended the library screening with other cast members.

In the film, Smollett plays Jason Holliday, a man grappling with the sudden death of his husband Damien (Jabari Redd). Things are complicated when Damien’s estranged mother, Cassandra Marshall (Fox), arrives in Los Angeles from Detroit for the funeral, unaware of Damien’s marriage to Jason or of their adopted daughter. Initially, Jason and Cassandra clash — Cassandra’s subtle homophobia and Jason’s lingering resentment over her treatment of Damien fuel their tension –– but they begin to bond as they navigate their grief together. 

Smollett, Fox, Redd, and Brittany S. Hall, who plays Jason’s sister Cheyenne, discussed the film in an interview with the Washington Blade. Highlighting the wide representation of queer identities in the film and among the cast, they stressed that the story is fundamentally about family and love.

“What we really want people to get from this movie is love,” Smollett said. “It’s beneficial for people to see other people that are not like themselves, living the life that they can identify with. Because somehow, what it does is that it opens up the world a little bit.”

Smollett drew from personal experiences with familial estrangement and grief during the making of the film, which delves into themes of parenthood, reconciliation, and the complexities of family relationships.

“I grew up with a father who was not necessarily the most accepting of gay people, and I grew up with a mother who was rather the opposite. I had a safe space in my home to go to, but I also had a not-so-safe space in my home, which was my father,” he said.

“The moment that he actually heard the words that his son was gay, as disconnected and estranged as we were, he instantly changed. He called me, after not speaking to him for years, and apologized for how difficult it must have been all of those years of me growing up. And then a couple years later, he passed away.”

Smollett began working on “The Lost Holliday” eight years ago, with Fox in mind for the role of Cassandra from the outset. He said that he had started collaborating on the project with one of the biggest producers in Hollywood when “‘2019’ happened.”

In January 2019, Smollett told Chicago police that he had been physically attacked in a homophobic and racist hate crime. He initially received an outpouring of support, in particular from the LGBTQ and Black communities. However, police soon charged him with filing a false police report, alleging that he had staged the attack. 

After prosecutors controversially dismissed the initial charges in exchange for community service and the forfeiture of his $10,000 bond, Smollett was recharged with the same offenses in 2020. Meanwhile, his character in “Empire” was written out of the show. 

In 2021, a Cook County jury found him guilty on five of the six charges of disorderly conduct for lying to police, and he was sentenced to 150 days in jail and 30 months of probation, along with a $120,000 restitution payment to the city of Chicago for the overtime costs incurred by police investigating his initial hate crime claim.

LGBTQ people are nine times more likely than non-LGBTQ people to be victims of violent hate crimes, according to a study by the Williams Institute at UCLA School of Law. Upon Smollett’s conviction, some in the LGBTQ community felt that the case would discredit victims of hate crimes and make it more difficult to report future such crimes. 

Smollett seemed to acknowledge these concerns, but denied that he staged the attack. 

“I know what happened and soon you all will too,” he told the Blade. “If someone reported a crime and it wasn’t the truth, that would actually make it more difficult [to report future crimes], but I didn’t. Any belief that they have about the person that I’ve been played out to be, sure, but that person is not me, never has been,” he said. “So I stand with my community. I love my community and I protect and defend my community until I’m bloody in my fist.” 

“And for all the people who, in fact, have been assaulted or attacked and then have been lied upon and made it to seem like they made it up, I’m sorry that you have to constantly prove your trauma, and I wish that it wasn’t that way, and I completely identify with you,” he added.

An Illinois Appellate Court upheld his guilty verdict last year, but Smollett has since appealed to the Illinois Supreme Court, which in March agreed to hear the case. He has served six days in jail so far, as his sentence has been put on hold pending the results of his appeals. 

The screening at the MLK Jr. Library concluded with a conversation between Smollett, Fox, and David J. Johns, CEO and executive director of the National Black Justice Coalition. Smollett discussed his current mindset and his plans for the future, revealing he is working on a third movie and will be releasing new music soon. 

“I’m in a space where life is being kind,” he said. 

“The Lost Holliday” recently secured a distribution deal for a limited release with AMC Theatres and will be out in theaters on Sept. 27. 

When Colman Domingo became a frontrunner for last year’s Best Actor Oscar – nominated for his star turn as the titular civil rights hero in “Rustin” – it was big news for the LGBTQ community. He was the first openly gay Afro-Latino to be nominated for the award. Had he won, he would have been the first openly gay actor to take the category, and only the second out queer performer to win in any of the acting categories. It would have been a milestone.

Yet his loss, somehow, didn’t seem much of a disappointment: Colman’s prodigious talent (also on display in last year’s “The Color Purple”) seemed to assure fans that it would get another chance – and “Sing Sing,” now in theaters nationwide after an auspicious debut at the 2023 Toronto International Film Festival, might very well be the movie that gets it for him.

In it, Domingo portrays John “Divine G” Whitfield, an inmate at New York’s Sing Sing Correctional Facility who has become a pillar of the prison’s “Rehabilitation Through the Arts” (RTA) program, through which he and fellow participants collaborate on the creation and performance of theater presentations for the larger prison population. As the group plans its next play – a fantastical time-travel comedy combining an eclectic mix of classic storylines and characters – he is equally focused on a clemency hearing that might overturn his sentence for a murder he didn’t commit. That doesn’t stop him from reaching out to help a hard-case new recruit (Clarence Macklin) into the fold, despite the newcomer’s chip-on-the-shoulder attitude and a rivalry that threatens his own status as a “top dog” in the company. As both the performance and his hearing draw nearer, the inevitable hardships and humiliations of prison existence take their toll, culminating in a crisis of faith that threatens to undermine not only the upcoming performance, but the unwavering resilience that has allowed him to resist the dehumanizing effects of his incarceration.

As co-written by Clint Bentley and director Greg Kwedar, the screenplay gives us little in the way of expository information, even skipping the formality of opening credits in favor of dropping us directly into the action, and instead allows us to glean the necessary background details as we go. It’s never an obstacle; Kwedar’s simple-yet-eloquent approach to presenting the narrative allows the actors to reveal information through nuance as much as through words, and frames the visuals (with help from cinematographer Pat Scola) in a radiant natural light that lends warmth to the institutional bleakness of the setting, making it easy to be patient as we pick up what we need to know about the characters’ back stories. It also facilitates our engagement with the creative energy of the troupe’s rehearsals – guided by a weathered director (Paul Raci) with a gift for teaching his charges to “trust the process” – and connects us with the theme of personal transformation through art, a thread that runs throughout the film and feels at least equally as significant as the details of any individual character’s personal story.

It’s this, of course, that gives “Sing Sing” its most profound and universal impact. Though any viewer might reasonably expect a movie about prisoners – most of them people of color from marginalized and disadvantaged backgrounds – to be geared toward a focus on issues of equity and social justice, Kwedar’s film allows those ideas to remain self-evident while placing its dominant weight behind the premise that art, and particularly those that involve language and performance, can function as both an escape from the suffering of a bleak everyday existence and a means of transcending it. Reinforced repeatedly in the narrative, most obviously in the inclusion of Shakespeare’s “To be or not to be” soliloquy from “Hamlet” but underscored through most of the material we see the inmates perform, it makes the story of Whitfield and his fellow prisoners into an unmistakable metaphor for anyone who has ever struggled to find meaning and peace in a cold and unpredictable world – and let’s face it, that means almost everybody.

Perhaps inevitably for such a film, “Sing Sing” occasionally seems to come off as one of those idealized Hollywood “feel-good” social dramas in which the heartaches and tragedies are overcome by hope and an undeterred spirit; the more cynical among its audience might well see it as “too good to be true,” with conflicts that dissipate a little too easily and plot resolutions we might see coming even before they’re finished being set up. Such judgments, however, become harder to render with the knowledge that – and it almost feels like a spoiler to reveal it, since the movie chooses to do so only when the credits finally roll at the end – not only is it a true story, but most of its cast (including Maclin, who plays himself) are actual alumni of the real-life RTA program, which operates in six New York State prisons. Not only that, the real-life Whitfield (who himself appears in a small role) and Maclin collaborated with Kwedar and Bentley on the story – so that, regardless of any dramatic license that may have been taken, there is an undeniable authenticity that is borne out by the inclusion of so many actual “success stories” from the program in the film’s ensemble cast.

As for that cast, each of them gives an equally compelling performance, even when they only have a few minutes of screen time; Kwedar gives everyone moments to shine, and while some have more of those than others, all contribute equally to the film’s overall power to move us.

Still, it’s the film’s major figures that have the most standout moments; Raci brings intelligence, compassion, and an air of nurturing authority to his role as the group’s seasoned director, and Maclin burns with the charismatic intensity of an experienced movie star – which he should, on the strength of this remarkable debut alone. Also worth mentioning is Sean San José, a longtime off-screen friend to Colman, mirroring their real-life relationship as a fellow inmate and confidante to add an extra touch of genuine camaraderie to their scenes.

“Sing Sing” ultimately belongs, however, to its lead player. Domingo is a fearless and powerful actor, something he has proven throughout his career and that has aided his rise to acclaim and stardom, and he brings those qualities to this role for an unforgettable star turn. Intelligent, erudite, passionate, vulnerable, and capable of delivering Shakespearean verse or prison slang with equal conviction and command, he gives a performance that elevates the movie while simultaneously blending seamlessly into its larger purpose. There’s nothing about him that screams “awards bait,” which makes him even more deserving of honors.

Whether he gets them or not, “Sing Sing” is a movie to be remembered — a testament to the power of art and the “invincible summer” that keeps us going when all of life seems intent on extinguishing our hope, it leaves us feeling inspired, renewed, and ready to face the world with a refreshed sense of perspective.

It’s the rare movie that can manage that, so don’t miss this one.

Anybody who loves movies knows the thrill of returning to an old favorite for a repeat viewing; it allows us to appreciate things we missed before. Alternatively, re-watching a bad movie (or at least, one you disliked) can help you find a new perspective on it  – but that comes with the risk of discovering that it’s still bad, and then you’ve wasted a couple of hours that you’ll never get back.

But what if it’s a “bad” movie that is technically not the same movie anymore? Does it deserve another chance?

No, that’s not a riddle. It’s something to ponder before deciding to experience the newly re-edited and re-constructed 4K re-release of 1979’s “Caligula,” the notorious historical epic about the famously unhinged titular Roman emperor, which featured a boldly stylized reconstruction of its ancient Roman setting, a youthful Malcolm McDowell in the title role, and a roster of distinguished British actors adding their prestige in support. Controversial even before the cameras started rolling, it was an ambitious multi-national production that spared no expense in bringing the despot’s personal rise and fall to the screen in all its lavish and debauched glory – conceived by none other than porn magnate Bob Guccione, the founder and editor of Penthouse magazine.

As in its original form, helmed by Italian filmmaker Tinto Brass, the movie opens as Caligula – heir to the throne of his increasingly deranged great uncle, the Roman Emperor Tiberius, who rules from a private island sanctuary and spends most of his time satisfying his perverse sexual appetites – fears that the old man views him as a threat to his power and decides to get ahead of the problem by disposing of him first. This, of course, makes Caligula the new emperor, and from there the tale depicts a chronology of his reign, in which his own lust for power – and other things – transforms him into a depraved tyrant. That’s not great for Rome, of course, but it ends up even worse for Caligula. We won’t spoil what happens, but you can look it up in any history book about the Roman Empire if you want to know.

The production was, to put it mildly, a mess. Guccione hired Brass to direct, and contracted renowned author Gore Vidal to write the screenplay, only to wrangle with both over creative differences. Vidal was eventually fired, and Brass assigned to adapt his script – but in the end, conflicts over the approach to sexual content led Guccione to remove Brass from the process and hire a team of editors to assemble a final cut according to his own specifications. He also snuck into the studio after-hours to film additional scenes of un-simulated sex featuring several hand-picked “Penthouse Pets,” which were then inserted into the movie to provide the flavor of softcore eroticism he assumed audiences would expect from his “brand.”

He may have been right about the audiences – “Caligula” was a box-office hit, a status no doubt fueled by international outrage from conservatives who decried it as “pornographic.” The most expensive independent film in history, it made back its cost and then some – but critics largely tore Guccione’s long-in-the-works pet project apart (legendary film reviewer Roger Ebert famously walked out on it), and though it had its defenders, it quickly achieved status as a notably embarrassing “flop.”

Cinema lovers, however, have a habit of favorably reassessing the film failures of previous generations, and inevitably, “Caligula” gained a reputation over the years as just such a movie. Enter Thomas Negovan, a film historian who discovered nearly 100 hours of unused footage – rejected takes, deleted scenes, and other material abandoned in Guccione’s final vision for the film – and undertook a full re-creation of the originally conceived “Caligula” as far as was possible, replacing every frame of footage from the 1979 release with alternate takes and reincorporating abandoned elements to create a stunningly restored new version in an effort to realize screenwriter Vidal’s original conception as closely as possible.

The resulting film, dubbed the “Ultimate Cut,” premiered at 2023’s Cannes Film Festival, where it earned praise from critics who cited its success in restoring both the movie’s artistic integrity and thematic cohesion, as well as its expanded showcase of the strong performances from McDowell (fresh from his breakthrough “Clockwork Orange” role when cast here) and future Oscar-winner Helen Mirren, as Caligula’s wife Caesonia. It restores at least some of Vidal’s intended theme highlighting the corruption that comes with absolute power – though not the openly gay author’s stronger emphasis on queer sexuality, a major point of contention with Guccione despite his willing inclusion of explicit same-sex and bisexual intimacy. Those moments largely take place as part of the background, a scenic element establishing the moral decadence of its title character’s reign and presenting a fetishized representation of queer coupling that – like all of the movie’s sex – seems more performative than passionate.

Even so, it’s a better film than it was, particularly in a restored print that emphasizes the rich color of Silvano Ippoliti’s cinematography and the “seventies chic” re-imagination of Ancient Rome by production designer Danilo Donati. McDowell’s performance, seen in its fleshed-out entirety for the first time, reclaims a coherent arc that was lost in the original cut, while Mirren’s work is similarly expanded to reveal a layered nuance that somehow anchors the movie’s extremities to a recognizable humanity. Additionally, Negovian’s work in de- and re-constructing the original film is praiseworthy for its meticulous devotion to delivering a unified whole.

At the same time, there are missteps that alternative footage can’t correct. “Caligula” still plays like a confused art house costume drama duped into becoming an exploitation film. Gratuitous sex and over-the-top violence are still the predominant tactics for eliciting audience response, and while the “star” performances – even legendary ham Peter O’Toole’s Tiberius, a case study in untethered-yet-irresistible overacting – and an elegantly trashy visual aesthetic lend it a semblance of artistic dignity, it can’t quite overcome the disingenuousness inherent in its blend of “serious” themes with blatantly exploitative underpinnings.

All of which begs the same question presented by the classic thought experiment called “The Ship of Theseus,” which asks us to contemplate whether a vessel that has had all of its parts replaced over time can still be considered the same vessel. It’s a moot point, however, because “Caligula” – disavowed even in its new incarnation by director Brass – is still plagued by the creative conflicts that marred its production. Its various elements seem to work at confused cross purposes, undermining any effort to impose a genuine sense of depth or artistic unity and leaving us with something that, despite the earnest contributions of many of its participants, still feels like a cynical effort to pass off porn by dressing it up as art.

Not that we’re judging that; in fact, we’re encouraging you to catch “Caligula: the Ultimate Cut” during its road show rollout in theaters, which commenced earlier this month, before it releases on VOD and streaming platforms later on. It might still be trash, but it’s sumptuous trash, and that’s always worth seeing on the big screen.

‘Free to Be: Understanding Kids & Gender Identity’
By Jack Turban, MD
c.2024, Atria
$29.99/304 pages

‘My Child is Trans, Now What?’
By Ben V. Greene
c.2024, Rowman & Littlefield
$26.95/203 pages

Your child has recently told you a secret that they can’t hold tight anymore.

You’ve suspected what they’re about to say for a long time. When they were small, they weren’t like other children. They may have even told you what they were thinking, even before they knew it themselves. But now you know, for sure, and so, going forward, you’re the loving parent of a child who’s trans, and there’s a learning curve.

These two books might help.

Surely, you must think that there has to be some science behind gender and identity, right? In “Free to Be: Understanding Kids & Gender Identity” by Jack Turban, MD (Atria, $29.99), you’ll follow the lives and struggles of three trans and gender diverse kids, Kyle, Sam, and Meredith, as Turban explains what science knows about genetics and sexuality.

To gain a basic understanding of the subject, says Turban, we need to look back in history to see how gender identity was perceived in the past and the attitudes that our ancestors held. He then touches upon language and “misnaming,” how social constructs attempt to set a child’s gender identity before it’s fully known, and why mothers often catch “blame” for something that’s never anyone’s “fault.” Further information on biology, puberty blockers, gender reassignment surgery for young trans people, and the “politics” of gender diversity round out this book nicely.

For the parent who wants a deeper dive into what makes their child tick and what they can do to make that kid’s life easier, this compassionate book is the one to read.

If you’re just finding out that your child is trans, then “My Child is Trans, Now What?” by Ben V. Greene (Rowman & Littlefield, $26.95) is a book to reach for now.

Beginning with the things you’ll want to know and understand immediately, this book is assuring and soothing – look, and you’ll see the word “joy” in its subtitle. Greene calls trans kids “VIPs,” and he means it, which sets a relaxing tone for what’s to come here.

In sharing his own experiences, Greene stresses that every trans experience is different, and he touches often upon his coming out. This launches discussions on topics like bathrooms, therapy (if you or your VIP want it), finding support, the politics of being trans, the stressors of medical treatment, and what it might be like to have even brief regrets. Greene finishes his book with advice on getting an education and living as a trans person.

“My Child is Trans, Now What?” is truly more of a book for parents and loved ones of trans teens or young adults. What’s in here goes well beyond childhood, so be aware before you reach for it on the shelf. And if these books aren’t enough, or don’t quite fit what you need, be sure to ask your favorite bookseller or librarian for more. In recent years, more and more authors have been willing to share their own journeys, making the transition one that doesn’t have to be so secret anymore.

Sometimes, casting the right person in a role can make or break a movie.

Consider “Cuckoo,” the buzzy horror film now in theaters nationwide, which turns a formulaic premise into an edgy and provocative thriller thanks to the presence of lead player Hunter Schafer, the breakout trans co-star of HBO’s acclaimed “Euphoria.” Her role might have been played by any young actress of appropriate age and sufficient talent, but carries a much more palpable weight both because of what she brings to it and because of how her director –  sophomore German feature-filmmaker Tilman Singer (“Luz”) – chooses to present her.

That role is Gretchen (Schafer), an American teen raised by her recently deceased mother and now forced to move in with her father (Marton Csokas) and his new family just as they relocate to a remote town in the Bavarian Alps, where the owner of a resort he designed wants him to work on an expansion. Already feeling like a stranger within the household – which, besides dad’s second wife (Jessica Henwick), includes a perplexingly mute young stepsister, Alma (Mila Lieu), who has begun to experience unexplained seizure-like episodes since Gretchen’s arrival – and still grieving the loss of her mom, she’s not thrilled about the added isolation of living in a remote and sleepy mountain town. Making matters worse are her misgivings about the resort and the community that surrounds it, not to mention the vaguely threatening vibe she seems to sense behind the benevolent manner of Herr König (Dan Stevens), her dad’s overly polite and aggressively gracious boss. 

Suspecting that things here are not entirely what they seem, she resolves to run away, but a successful escape requires money – so when König offers her a job at the reception desk, she takes it despite her better instincts. Naturally, this puts her right in the cross-hairs of whatever ominous conspiracy may be surrounding her, something she realizes when she disregards warnings never to stay at the resort after dark and narrowly escapes an attack from a terrifying figure in the woods. Though local authorities dismiss the incident as a prank, she is soon approached by the police chief himself (Jan Bluthardt), who is conducting a secret investigation of his own and seeks her help.

We won’t reveal what they find out, exactly; it’s enough to say that things revolve around a secret project to preserve a local species with an unusual means of reproduction. Besides this and the fact that Singer’s film draws heavily on both body horror and sci-fi elements to spin its harrowing narrative, the only thing you need to know is that, like so many relationships on social media, it’s complicated.

That’s a double-edged observation; as Singer’s film begins to unwind the twisted tale at the core of its premise, the revelations come at us fast and furious, resulting in a feeling that there are too many “moving parts” of which we must keep track, and a subsequent decision that it is too much work to do so. This has less to do with the details surrounding the menacing (and possibly misunderstood) “presence” that provides much of the movie’s more visceral thrills than it does with the convoluted escalations of its plot; more plainly said, in crafting a suitably gripping climax the story devolves into an implausible B-movie showdown built on unlikely reversals and hard-to-bridge gaps of logic, with Stevens’s character essentially filling in for the mad scientist defending his lab against torch-wielding villagers bent on destroying his well-meaning but misguided experiment. As a result, it loses a good deal of steam – as well as some of the good will it earns with its intriguing premise and effectively orchestrated slow build toward the final act – before getting us to the big finale.

Fortunately, despite the messiness of its denouement, “Cuckoo” ends on a strong note. In the wake of what we’ll describe as its suitably apocalyptic endgame, it leaves us with the unexpected suggestion that the solution in overcoming a perceived threat to our existence lies not in extreme, all-or-nothing viewpoints, however passionately or understandingly they may be held, but in finding a middle path between them. The key, in Gretchen’s case, is attached to compassion and a feeling of shared humanity, and not in self-validating personal ideologies that are ultimately more about ourselves than the things we think we need to defend or protect.

If anything can be credited with rescuing Singer’s movie from its reliance on genre formalism and overcomplicated storytelling, it’s Schafer’s performance. She embodies Gretchen’s achingly recognizable teenage nihilism to a tee, tapping into a universal feeling of being on the “outside” and allowing it to fuel our engagement in her story even when the plot goes over the top and off the rails; but what makes her performance indispensable to Singer’s purpose is also what gives his film significance far beyond its measured success as a thriller. While Schafer is unequivocally a trans woman, Gretchen’s gender identity is never explicitly disclosed; though the “trans-ness” of the performer invites a valid interpretation of “Cuckoo” as an allegory about transphobia, or about the necessity for queer people to find “chosen families” to replace the ones into which they are born, these possible readings of the film exist among many others, and the character’s gender is ultimately irrelevant. Though admittedly, thanks to the involvement of another outsider, a female-presenting traveler named Ed (Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey) who shows up to provide Gretchen with a glimmer of hope and a potential escape route, there’s an unflinching queerness that underlies the film’s entire perspective.

Through that lens, Schafer’s work here represents a landmark in the sense that she has become a lead performer in a relatively prominent film as a trans actress in a role that neither addresses nor needs to address her gender. That’s nothing to be scoffed at, whether or not one can fully surrender to the grotesque pleasures of Singer’s unapologetically shock-centric script and direction, but what is perhaps more important – at least in terms of the work itself – is that she takes a familiar stock character (the “final girl”) and infuses it with the kind of depth worthy of an Oscar-bait performance in an A-list “prestige” film. She shines neither because of nor in spite of her trans identity; rather, she shines because of her talent.

It’s worth mentioning that Stevens works hard to overcome the melodramatic writing behind Herr König and, as much as possible, mostly succeeds; and while most of the film’s other performances are decidedly less “showy,” the entire cast manages to keep us engaged enough to accept the movie’s potentially campy (not the good kind) conceits. Likewise, even if his screenplay gets muddy for a while in the third quarter, Singer’s shrewdly balanced blend of genre tropes and artistic vision as a director never wavers, keeping us not only invested but thrilled by his style even during his movie’s silliest moments.

All that makes “Cuckoo” a great choice for a date night that can also be a not-so-guilty pleasure – and when it comes to the movies, you can’t ask for much more than that.

Author JK Rowling has been uncharacteristically silent on social media in the 24 hours since she and the world’s richest person — Elon Musk — reportedly were named in a criminal complaint filed with French authorities by a female Olympian boxer from Algeria. 

Variety reported on Tuesday that the lawsuit alleges they committed “acts of aggravated cyber harassment” against newly crowned Olympic champion Imane Khelif during the Paris Summer Games. Khelif is a woman who has been accused of being a man, of being transgender, and of cheating to compete in the Olympics. 

Nabil Boudi, the Paris-based attorney of Khelif, confirmed to Variety that both Musk and Rowling were mentioned in the complaint, which was posted on Aug. 9 to the anti-online hatred center of the Paris Prosecutor’s Office.

The Paris Prosecutor’s Office’s National Center for the Fight Against Online Hatred confirmed in a statement to Variety that it received the complaint filed by Khelif, and announced it had launched an investigation that would include anti-transgender comments by GOP presidential nominee Donald Trump. 

“On Aug. 13, (The National Center for the Fight Against Online Hatred) contacted the OCLCH (Central Office for the Fight Against Crimes Against Humanity and Hate Crimes) to conduct an investigation into the counts of cyber harassment due to gender, public insult because of gender, public incitement to discrimination and public insult because of origin.”

Although the lawsuit names “X,” that does not represent the social media platform owned by Musk that had been known as Twitter. Under French law, “X” means that the lawsuit was filed against unknown persons, to “ensure that the ‘prosecution has all the latitude to be able to investigate against all people,” including those who may have written hateful messages under pseudonyms, said Boudi.

“JK Rowling and Elon Musk are named in the lawsuit, among others,” he told Variety, and explained why Trump would be part of the investigation. “Trump tweeted, so whether or not he is named in our lawsuit, he will inevitably be looked into as part of the prosecution.”

Khelif won the Olympic gold medal in the women’s 66 kilogram boxing competition on Aug. 10 and has for weeks been the target of online hate over her gender eligibility. She was born female and does not identify as trans or intersex. The International Olympic Committee has stood by her, declaring, “scientifically, this is not a man fighting a woman.”

That didn’t deter Rowling, who told her 14.2 million followers Khelif was a man who was “enjoying the distress of a woman he’s just punched in the head.” Her post included a picture from Khelif’s fight with Italian boxer Angela Carini.

Could any picture sum up our new men’s rights movement better? The smirk of a male who’s knows he’s protected by a misogynist sporting establishment enjoying the distress of a woman he’s just punched in the head, and whose life’s ambition he’s just shattered. #Paris2024 pic.twitter.com/Q5SbKiksXQ

— J.K. Rowling (@jk_rowling) August 1, 2024

Musk shared a post from anti-trans activist and former college swimmer Riley Gaines that claimed “men don’t belong in women’s sports.” The owner of X, Tesla and SpaceX endorsed her message with one word: “Absolutely.”

Absolutely https://t.co/twccUEOW9e

— Elon Musk (@elonmusk) August 1, 2024

Trump posted a message on his own platform, Truth Social, with a picture from the fight with Carina accompanied by a promise in all-caps: “I will keep men out of women’s sports!”

“What we’re asking is that the prosecution investigates not only these people but whoever it feels necessary,” said Boudi. “If the case goes to court, they will stand trial.” He added that while the lawsuit was filed in France, “it could target personalities overseas,” pointing out that “the prosecutor’s office for combating online hate speech has the possibility to make requests for mutual legal assistance with other countries.” 

Among the potential other targets: Trump’s running mate, U.S. Sen. JD Vance (R-Ohio), U.S. Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-Ga.), right-wing media personality Charlie Kirk, and boxer and wrestler Logan Paul, all of whom attacked Khelif on social media. Paul posted on X following her win against Carini: “This is the purest form of evil unfolding right before our eyes. A man was allowed to beat up a woman on a global stage, crushing her life’s dream while fighting for her deceased father. This delusion must end.”

Fox News shared Paul’s quote. 

'DELUSION MUST END': Professional wrestler and influencer @LoganPaul makes his opinion known after a women's Olympic fighter dropped out a match just seconds into it after being forced to compete against a biological man. pic.twitter.com/7XTkmNP4Lm

— Fox News (@FoxNews) August 1, 2024

Paul later deleted the post and admitted that he “might be guilty of spreading misinformation.”

Khelif’s coach, Pedro Diaz, told Variety that the bullying Khelif endured during the Paris games “incredibly affected her” and “everyone around her.” He advised her to stop looking at social media so the distraction would not impact her performance in the ring, where she ultimately won a gold medal. 

According to Variety, Khelif’s complaint for online harassment is actually one of several that have launched investigations regarding the Paris Olympics. Prosecutors are also investigating a complaint filed by Thomas Jolly, the artistic director of the opening and closing ceremonies. As the Los Angeles Blade reported, one part of the opening ceremony drew condemnations and online criticism. Jolly said he was “the target of threatening messages and insults.” DJ Barbara Butch claimed she had received online harassment, death threats, and insults following the opening ceremony.