LAS VEGAS — STLV, the annual Star Trek Las Vegas convention — hosted by Creation Entertainment — this month brought together fans of all ages, abilities, and affections for the many incarnations of the 59-year-old science fiction franchise, from the original TV series to new streaming shows and online games. 

Boldly going among them were dozens, if not hundreds, of LGBTQ Trekkies and Trekkers alike, living the ideal that predates DEI by more than 50 years: An anagram that Trek creator Gene Roddenberry devised as the basis of Vulcan philosophy (as well as an early merchandising opportunity).

I.D.I.C.

“‘Infinite Diversity In Infinite Combinations,’” TrekCulture podcaster Seán Ferrick told the Los Angeles Blade. “This is the type of community that is tailor-made for embracing,” said Ferrick, who identifies as pansexual. “The truth is a lot of the world doesn’t do that.”

Ferrick traveled from Wexford County, Ireland, to attend what he called “the biggest Star Trek convention of the year on the planet,” and to judge a cosplay competition. 

“They might be wearing Vulcan ears or they might have fringy teeth or something, but this is a tailor-made community about spreading love and joy,” he said. “So, when I walk into something like this, what I see is, for a large part, the world as it should be. There is hope out there. I stand at something like this and I see nothing but hope.” 

This was the first Star Trek convention this reporter has attended since 1978, and some things have not changed. There was a huge amount of Trek-related merchandise for sale, from tribbles to jewelry and model spaceships. Actor and first-time author Nana Visitor of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine sold out copies of her groundbreaking book about the women in front of the camera and behind the scenes of the franchise, Open a Channel: A Woman’s Trek. And the only people who stood out in the crowd of thousands were the ones not wearing a costume. Three fans put together amazing Vulcan outfits that will appear in an episode that has not even streamed yet, just based on what they saw in a trailer. Some folks even dressed up their dogs. 

David’s homemade Starfleet uniform resembles a miniskirt but is called a skant. Male actors as well as women wore them on Star Trek: The Next Generation, and he was hardly the only man wearing one at STLV. 

“There is nowhere else I would probably walk around in a dress,” he said. “I came last year for the first time and this was the most comfortable I’ve felt.” That was especially true, given that on this day, the temperature reached a high of 109 degrees in Las Vegas. 

David is a gay man from Sheffield in Northern England who said he used to call Los Angeles home. He described his skant as “Pride for Star Trek” and was gratified by the reception of other convention-goers to his cosplay. 

“There’s just no judgment. No matter whether someone’s costume looks really homemade, whether it’s really professional, everyone still appreciates that you’re part of the fandom.” 

Peeved at Paramount 

Judgment, however, was on the minds of some stars who identify as LGBTQ. They talked with the Los Angeles Blade about their fears that Skydance’s purchase of Paramount, the company that produces Star Trek, would change the franchise’s legendary embrace of diversity, to further appease the Trump administration as it works to eliminate DEI. 

“We only have to look at the parent network of this series alone, where Star Trek lives now, where they have bent the knee in order to sell this studio to a right-wing, Trump-loving owner,” said out gay actor Wilson Cruz, who played one of the first out gay characters in the franchise in Star Trek: Discovery and was a trailblazer when he played Rickie Vasquez on My So-Called Life. Cruz was blunt in his criticism of the Paramount sale to Skydance.

“Shari Redstone had no problem selling out the entire company and everyone who works there, and all of the people who have been on screen representing people of color, the LGBTQ community,” said Cruz. “She has completely turned her back in order to keep her family richer than they ever need to be.”

Cruz is also worried for queer representation in the current era, and not just on Trek. 

“I think in this moment in history, it means a lot more to me now than it even meant eight months ago, which it meant a lot to me then, but given the fact that we’re going to start seeing less and less of us on TV, we’re being erased,” he said. “And because we are being erased, because we are being shamed again, it’s really important to celebrate the success of the representation that we have had, to remind people why it’s important for people to be able to see themselves, to have their lives mirrored back at them, to inspire them through our stories, that that kind of storytelling has value and relevance and has even more relevance today.” 

In between signing autographs, Cruz voiced gratitude for the fans who say his portrayals reflected their lived experiences.

“I’m incredibly moved every time somebody comes by, whether they’re talking about Ricky Vasquez or Hugh Colbert, that I’ve been able to give people a voice and a story that they can identify with that makes them feel like they belong, in a moment where there’s so little of that.”

“I’m very fortunate to be part of two major things,” said Cruz’s Discovery costar, out gay actor Anthony Rapp. “Rent and Star Trek have these profound communities of fans around them. I say ‘fan.’ I mean, it’s not a word that I have any animosity toward. But it doesn’t quite speak to the level of connection to these pieces of art.” 

As for the deal Cruz railed against, Rapp said it was “too upsetting to engage too much.” 

“I’m on a little bit of a media brown-out because of having two toddlers. I’m certainly aware that Colbert was canceled, which is very upsetting. I heard Wilson mention something about Trump getting them to agree on a certain kind of media coverage,” he said, referring to the installation of an ombudsman, “who will receive and evaluate any complaints of bias or other concerns” at CBS News, according to The Hollywood Reporter. “I mean, that’s insane.”

Out actors Cruz and Rapp, who appeared on Star Trek: Discovery from 2017 until 2024, were among the more than 100 actors and creative types on hand who gained fame thanks to Trek and other sci-fi projects. They joined iconic fan favorites William Shatner, Scott Bakula, Kate Mulgrew, Jeri Ryan and Edward James Olmos — all of whom played captains of various fictional starships — in meeting their fans, face to face, for a price. 

Those fans, dressed in every conceivable and even inconceivable cosplay creations, stood for hours in long lines for a signed autograph and to pose for photos with their heroes. They packed ballrooms to hear behind-the-scenes stories at a wide variety of panel discussions and presentations. The best seats cost $1,400, with photos and autographs costing anywhere from $25 to $300 apiece. 

Meeting the Captain

This reporter was next in line to ask Shatner a question at his one and only appearance on stage, as he rhapsodized at length about nature, the planet, and beyond.

“We all belong to each other, and all of us belong to the rest of existence, the world, the universe,” said Shatner. “We are linked chemically and electronically with the word ‘quantum’ attached to it. ‘Quantum’ is the study of the small particles called atoms. We should all never forget the awesomeness, the incredible forces that we have no idea about that work everywhere in the universe. It also suggests that we are caretakers of our earth and we must, without question, care for the water, the air, the earth.”

It was at that point that the 94-year-old actor decided to end his hour-long talk, 10 minutes early. So, unable to ask him a question, I joined a queue with hundreds of attendees, who paid to have a moment with the original Captain James T. Kirk. There he was, seated on a chair at the end of the queue, as a fast-moving assembly line of fans stood by him for a very quickly posed photograph, and swiftly moved along. 

I had literally just enough time to utter one sentence, and so I asked him, “What message do you have for queer Trek fans?”

“Keep on queerin’!” said Shatner, with a smile captured in a photograph. 

That was a welcome message for two groups that celebrated their marginalized status in society: The Lambda Quadrant and the SyFy Sistas. 

Tamia, the SyFy Sistas podcast host, spoke at their panel about how in the past, there was backlash directed at Black fans, at “people that look like us and didn’t want us in the room,” she said. “That’s not what Star Trek is about. But I think it’s changing.”

“Many, many people come up to us at the table and say that historically they have not felt comfortable expressing their full and true selves, even here in the fandom,” said Ursa Wright of the Lambda Quadrant, a group dedicated to promoting queer representation in fandom. “We are the one table in the whole place with big rainbows everywhere. So, people, for a long time, they come up and they tell us they did not actually feel safe. Like, they can wear their Star Trek outfit, but nothing overtly expresses that they would be gay, or whatever it is, because they still didn’t feel comfortable, because no one else was in the space doing the thing. Which, in our year of the Lord, how are we still there, where people feel that?”

Boldly LGBTQ

The Blade asked queer fans what Star Trek means to them. 

“Accepting everyone,” said Sarah from Southern California. “Everybody is who they are.”

“Being free,” said Rachel from Nebraska. “To express anything and everything.” 

“Togetherness,” added David who hails from Nova Scotia. 

Boyfriends Anthony and Ryan said “acceptance” and “tolerance.” 

“Star Trek is what this world needs to strive for,” said Tom Noe of Pleasanton, Calif., a straight ally whose partner is pansexual. “Acceptance of all races, sexualities, regardless of what they are.” 

“It is a different way of looking at the world, and I appreciate that,” said Jess from Upstate New York. She was wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with a rainbow and the face of an omnisexual alien character from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, and the words, “Friend of Garak.” When asked why she chose to wear that top, Jess said, “Because I’m gay.” 

“Sounds Gay, I’m In,” was the message on a shirt worn by a gay fan from New Jersey who asked to be identified as Sandra. “Because here is the only place I feel safe to be out. I’m not out with my family or my co-workers,” she said. “Star Trek makes me feel like there is hope that eventually I can live free. But I don’t know how it’s going to happen in the next couple of years.” 

“Let’s just say I have not been able to go to the entire convention without seeing a Trump hat,” said Kyla, an out transgender nonbinary fan who was visiting Las Vegas from just outside Sacramento. They said didn’t feel comfortable using the casino hotel’s strictly binary restrooms without an escort. “But I have felt more safe here than I have on the strip,” she conceded.

“We have nonbinary characters. We have same-sex characters and relationships, and we need more of that,” said a pansexual fan who goes by the nickname Hoops. “As the kids would say, Star Trek is very woke. Like, it just means you have a heart and, like, compassion,” she said. 

“There’s so much hate and so much bigotry and homophobia and transphobia. All of that,” said Hoops. “We’re just here to care about other people. And we just want to love other people.  And why do you care who someone’s in love with or who someone takes care of?  Or how they identify? What they’re wearing? If they’re wearing a skirt or pants? Does it really matter what path they’re taking?  And in Star Trek, nobody cares about any of that.” 

TrekTech

STLV also offered fans a chance to explore strange new immersive tech that allows them to virtually tour the Starship Enterprise, created by OTOY and The Roddenberry Archive. 

“We think about this stuff a lot,” said OTOY CEO Jules Urbach about LGBTQ+ representation in his digital exploration of the franchise, which started with the first film in 1979 and only grew after he became childhood friends with Roddenberry’s son, Rod, 40 years ago. “It’s really part of representing everything. And that’s a big part of Star Trek.” 

OTOY’s latest short film reunites two iconic characters using “digital masks:” Kirk visits Spock’s deathbed in “765874: Unification,” with actors Sam Witwer and Lawrence Selleck in the roles originated by William Shatner and the late Leonard Nimoy, respectively. 

“This is pretty magical,” Urbach told the Blade. “We’re really happy with how it turned out and how people interpreted it.” 

At star-studded panels, fans watched that short film and also learned of new shows in the pipeline and potential new movies. Next month, Paramount debuts a new audio drama podcast that tells the untold story of arch villain Khan Noonien Singh’s life in exile, featuring the voices of Naveen Andrews, best known for his role in Lost, and of gay icon George Takei, among others. 

“It’s never far from the minds of the people creating these shows that how important representation is, how vital it is,” Kirsten Beyer, executive producer of Star Trek: Khan and a nine-year veteran Trek producer and writer, told the Los Angeles Blade in a phone interview following the convention. “And never, ever more so than now.” 

Queer Stars, Allies

During a panel discussion with her out queer costar Jess Bush, Celia Rose Gooding of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds told the Blade she’s hoping to see more LGBTQ representation in the show, now in its third season streaming on Paramount+. 

“As a queer person, I would love to see more of it,” said Gooding, who plays Uhura and is preparing to film the fifth and final season starting next month. “I can neither confirm nor deny what we’re going to get because we haven’t seen a single script yet. But I think for so many reasons, it’s important for marginalized group to see themselves in the future.” 

“I’m a Greenwich Villager, so the LGBTQ world is my world, and it’s our world,” said Michelle Hurd, who played Raffi on Star Trek: Picard. In the series finale, written and directed by showrunner and LGBTQ ally Terry Matalas, Raffi is portrayed as the bisexual first officer who had a relationship with her bisexual captain, Seven of Nine, played by actress Jeri Ryan. “We’ve been here, we haven’t gone, we’re not going anywhere, and we’re going to be here until the end of time. And art is the way that we can convey those sort of stories. I hope that we continue to tell those stories more and I hope that this world continues to open its eyes, its arms, its hearts to the fact that love is love is love is love.”

Out gay actor and author Jonathan Del Arco — who played a Borg who became an individual named Hugh in both Picard and originally on The Next Generation — chose the convention to launch his children’s book about the search for belonging, identity and acceptance, Freddy the Alien. He told the Blade it was inspired by both his own childhood and his Trek career, and about the timing as immigration raids are in the news. 

“It’s a really important time to make kids feel included, and it’s tough,” said Del Arco, who attended the convention with his husband, Kyle Fritz. “We live in Los Angeles, and you can’t help but be surrounded by the immigrant experience, so you don’t even need the book to have that conversation. It’s happening all around,” he said. 

In a panel discussion, Del Arco revealed that although nothing was written about Hugh’s orientation, he chose to play him as having fallen in love with Evan Evagora’s character, Elnor. 

“I decided when I found out I was getting killed, and I had this young man on the ship, I figured it would be kind of cool if Hugh had found love for the first time, only to die. And he did.”

Andrew Robinson played a Cardassian named Garak on Deep Space Nine and confirmed to the Blade he “always” considered his character was something other than heterosexual, such as an omnisexual, even though his orientation was never revealed in the series. However, in 2024, he played Garak once more, in an episode of the animated series Star Trek: Lower Decks, created by LGBTQ+ ally Mike McMahon. This time his character was in a same-sex relationship with Dr. Julian Bashir, played by Alexander Siddig. 

“I’ve never played an alien before,” said Robinson. “And one of the things that occurred to me was, there are certain hang-ups that they don’t have that we have. And one of them was the whole thing about sexual identity.”

Terry Farrell, who played Jadzia Dax on Deep Space Nine, spoke about a 1995 episode, “Rejoined,” in which her character had a romantic relationship with another woman. Some Southern TV stations, primarily in the so-called “Bible Belt,” refused to air that episode. Many transgender fans have embraced Dax as someone who shares their experience of living in more than one gender, and “Rejoined” featured the first same-sex kiss in Trek.

“What I was most proud of was, in that episode, nobody talked about the fact that we were both women,” said Farrell. “I have goosebumps right now. Love is love. It doesn’t matter what package you come in. If that’s your one life, enjoy it, be you. It’s such a struggle in our culture to just be yourself. And clearly it can be dangerous to be yourself.  And that’s horrifying to me.” 

For the most part, this was an inclusive and entertaining event for one and all, especially for the many attendees who used wheelchairs and scooters to travel around the incredibly large convention space, which was located a considerable distance from the main casino hotel. But it’s only fair to point out that there were some issues, such as the lack of all-gender bathrooms. 

Observers also noted that although this 23^rd convention organized by Creation Entertainment was expanded to five days for the first time, it was not as well attended as 2024’s event. That’s in line with a trend that reports say has hit Las Vegas hard this summer, with tourism down 11 percent from a year ago. A spokesperson for Creation did not respond to an email request for comment on attendance. 

The Blade also asked for comment on what were described later as “inadvertent” slights to the one and only Black woman to appear on a panel of Star Trek writers at the convention on the evening of Saturday, Aug. 9. 

Once the four men and two men were introduced, the host — “Inglorious Treksperts” podcaster Mark A. Altman — had to be reminded that he had not invited Star Trek: Strange New Worlds story editor and episode writer Onitra Johnson to join them; she was still backstage, waiting. After finally being introduced, she was seated at the end of the stage next to legendary out gay screenwriter and author David Gerrold, who three times answered questions intended for Johnson. The third time, members of the audience interrupted him, shouting, “Let her speak!” which prompted Altman to blame “bad acoustics” in the ballroom. 

While fellow Treksperts podcaster Daren Dochterman called these repeated slights “inadvertent” in a face to face conversation with the Blade on Aug. 10, neither he nor Altman, nor Creation, officially responded to messages from the Blade seeking comment. 

CinePride Los Angeles is rolling out the rainbow carpet for Maxxie LaWow: Drag Super-Shero, a dazzling debut where empowerment meets camp with a whole lot of sparkle. At its heart is a story about transformation, resilience, and the power of stepping fully into who you are, no matter how much padding it takes. Bold, heartfelt, and joyfully comedic, Maxxie is here to serve a purpose with a whole lot of glam.

We caught up with Anthony Hand, the creator behind Maxxie, to talk about what ignited their super-powered vision, how they utilize film to spread empowerment and solidarity, and how one drag queen’s journey might just save the world while reminding us all to embrace every aspect that makes us who we are.

Maxxie LaWow is giving us Justin Sims’s Bad Hair meets Jem and the Holograms, but with a tuck. How did you conceive this project, and what were some of your theatrical and personal influences?

Well, in 2018, after watching what was actually a really good comic book movie, I found myself asking: where are all the superheroes in the LGBTQ+ family? At that time, I wasn’t aware of any Marvel or DC films featuring LGBTQ+ superheroes. So, I started imagining—if we had a superhero like that, what would their powers be? Who would they be? What would they represent and fight for? That brainstorming journey was really fun. Ultimately, I settled on a drag queen as the perfect representative of this kind of superhero I wanted to create. I’m a huge fan of drag and RuPaul’s Drag Race. Watching queens prepare for the runway every week, you really see the transformative power of drag.

Those queens share their personal journeys and challenges, and often describe how the process of getting into drag – tucking, padding, wigs, makeup – transforms them. Even if they’re shy or reserved in daily life, stepping into drag unleashes a bold, empowered persona. Drag acts as armor against hecklers and society’s negativity, which really resonated with me. That’s why I envisioned a story where Simon transforms from mild-mannered to bold, brassy Maxxie LaWow in a fun, fluffy superhero tale.

The transformation scene is, well… Wow

That was very much inspired by a Sailor Moon style sequence.
There’s definitely a small-town boy (cue Bronski Beat) vibe to Simon’s origin story. What audience were you aiming to reach with Maxxie LaWow: Drag Super Shero?

Growing up in a small farm town in the ’80s, Bronski Beat was one of my favorite bands, so that definitely influenced me. But more broadly, LGBTQ cinema often struggles to reach audiences beyond the LGBTQ community itself. I wanted this project to be accessible not just to LGBTQ viewers but to allies as well. Drag has become hugely popular, with events like DragCon in LA, New York, and London, and with RuPaul’s Drag Race becoming a dominant reality TV show globally.

As drag becomes more accessible, it helps allies see us as real people – neighbors, friends, family – which humanizes and advances LGBTQ+ civil rights. So I wrote this story with a core appeal to the community, but also with allies in mind. In fact, my mom is a huge fan of drag, so while writing, I kept asking myself, “Will my mom find this funny?” And also, “I hope RuPaul and Michelle Visage find this funny!” Drag truly brings people together, which you can see in the popularity of drag brunches, drag bingo, and drag trivia, where many attendees are allies.

Speaking of villains, what was Diabolical’s turning point in her origin story?

Great question. For world-building, I created detailed dossiers for all main and many secondary characters. Diabolical comes from a family of fashion innovators but didn’t inherit that talent herself. There are Easter eggs in the film—like the nightclub “Skirt and Girdle,” where Simon sees drag for the first time. That used to be a factory built by Diabolical’s grandmother, and there’s a statue of her in the courtyard.

Diabolical tanked her family fortune with poor fashion decisions on the runway, but as a chemist and beauty consultant, she discovered that drag queen tears have magical anti-aging properties. Though she lacked fashion talent, her creative ambition led her to launch a new cosmetic line based on this discovery.

Now, to our protagonist, Simon goes full purple peacock cocktail on his 21st—any fun stories from your own 21st birthday?

Oh boy. I was in college at Michigan State, and back then, 18+ could still enter bars. I definitely drank far too much on my 21st birthday. There were a few other college shenanigans, but those early experiences taught me I don’t love the room spinning. So, lessons learned.

There are a few subtle details throughout the film, like Jae recycling the can instead of tossing it, Maxxie tossing someone’s cigarette in the club, and Jae encouraging Simon not to resort to liquid courage. Were these intentional?

Yes! Jae recycling reflects my personal values about not littering, and it also shows her toughness when she smashes the can on her board. The cigarette scene was inspired by family members who smoked. I was always the one rolling down the window and asking them to stop. It also gave us a fiery hoop aerial scene, which was dramatic and fun.

Regarding Jae encouraging Simon not to get more liquid courage, that was a key moment I imagined early on. Jae tells Simon, “You’re fine as you are, just go talk to him now.” That push helped Simon transform into Maxxie LaWow for the first time.

Your film is showing at Cine Pride LA, What does it mean to you to showcase Maxxie in a community-rooted festival like this?

It means so much. Being selected as the opening film for the inaugural season of the CinePride Film Festival is a huge honor for me and the entire cast and crew. Many of us live in LA, so having a hometown theatrical screening is especially meaningful. Independent films rarely get big theatrical runs anymore, so festivals like this are vital to share our stories on the big screen.

Watching movies at home is great, but nothing compares to that cinematic experience. We’re extremely grateful for the opportunity to showcase the film to friends, colleagues, managers, and casting agents here.

Regarding the current climate across the US, how do you see Maxxie, our Super-Shero, responding to the ongoing anti-drag rhetoric?

Honestly, the anti-drag rhetoric is ridiculous and baseless. Drag queens have always played a huge role in uplifting LGBTQ+ communities through fundraisers, activism, and leadership. Think about the heroes who threw their heels at the Stonewall Riots or the Compton’s Cafeteria riots a year earlier in San Francisco. Drag performers absolutely deserve our respect, gratitude, and support. It’s heartbreaking, especially with recent events like Florida paving over the rainbow sidewalk outside the Pulse nightclub. It’s hateful and completely unacceptable.

The alt-right has found a convenient scapegoat in drag performers, even though the accusations are baseless. Meanwhile, actual criminals in religious and political leadership go unchecked. Drag performers commit zero crimes; they’re about community and joy. Supporting and uplifting drag artists is crucial to fighting this hate.

What would Maxie say to lawmakers trying to legislate drag out of public spaces? Feel free to answer in character.

If I imagine Maxxie as someone like Nina West – bold, brassy, and articulate – she’d probably clap back hard, maybe with some snarky social media posts. Or like Jinkx Monsoon, who’s been sharp in calling out politicians lately. I don’t have a direct quote, but Maxxie would definitely stand strong and fight back with humor and heart.

The film features a post-credit scene. Is that a hint for a sequel or a series?

Yes! The bonus scene reveals more about the Three Demon Cats and their role beyond Diabolical’s control. It bookends the story nicely. I’d love to see Maxxie picked up for a series or web shorts, or even comic books. For now, we just need people to watch the film so we can make that happen.

What do you hope young folks, especially in small towns, take away from Maxxie’s journey from shy Simon to full-blown super-shero?

Growing up in the ’70s and ’80s, positive LGBTQ+ representation was almost nonexistent. Often, queer characters were villains or victims. Now, we have more affirming stories, but we still need heroes. Maxxie’s core message is about finding the courage to be your authentic self. It’s a fun, PG-13 film but great for drag fans of all ages. I wanted something welcoming that questioning kids and families can watch together, which is rare for LGBTQ+ films.

What’s a pluot? And was that a nod to the oh-so yummy and oh-so campy 1969 film The Gay Deceivers?

I recently watched The Gay Deceivers! It was both brilliant and horrifying. It wasn’t an intentional reference, but I love that you made the connection. The pluot represents Diabolical’s ego and pretense, maybe a nod to wealthy socialites.

What impact do you hope Maxxie LaWow will have on communities across the country, especially as rights are under threat?

Maxxie is campy, fun, and uplifting; a cozy, low-stakes film with a lot of heart. I hope it brings people together, reminds everyone that LGBTQ+ folks deserve to live freely and authentically, and engages allies in a positive way. It’s a communal experience — drag is always better with friends.

In one glitter glazed sentence, how would you describe Maxxie LaWow?

Maxxie LaWow is a bold and brassy queen who may not be the cleverest in the room but has the will and determination to do the right thing and help those in need.

CinePride runs September 11 – 14, 2025 at Landmark Theatres Sunset.

For more information, visit CinePride.org 

In a jukebox musical twist on Romeo & Juliet, Britney Spears, Katy Perry, and Backstreet Boys songs become hilarious and endearing anthems of newfound love, self-discovery, and fresh starts in the endlessly entertaining North American tour of & Juliet.

Making its successful transition over to Los Angeles, this show’s energetic ensemble immediately stands out. While Romeo & Juliet ends with both of the star-crossed lovers tragically taking their lives, & Juliet posits a simple question — what if Juliet didn’t take her life over someone she knew for just five days?

Beyond giving Juliet a new start, this show features multiple messy relationships that are delightful to watch unfold through Luke Sheppard’s direction. There’s the central dynamic between Anne Hathaway (Teal Wicks) and the deadpan William Shakespeare (Corey Mach), which gets increasingly complicated as Anne is the one attempting to rewrite the story, questioning Shakespeare’s genius and motives in hilarious bits along the way. But the surprise standout comes in the surprise connection between Lance (Paul-Jordan Jansen) and Angélique (Kathryn Allison), Juliet’s nurse and biggest supporter.

Rachel Simone Webb, who stars as Juliet and was a member of the original Broadway cast, takes the stage with her majestic voice in a cover of “…Baby One More Time” — earning a well-deserved standing ovation during the Friday night showing. Another standout, Nick Drake, plays May, who feels a flame for the refreshingly dorky Francois (Mateus Leite Cardoso) after a chance encounter. But things get complicated as Francois proposes to Juliet, feeling like his father, Lance, won’t support him falling in love with the non-binary May.

The hilarious Ben Jackson Walker, who originated the role of Romeo in the original Broadway production, joins the company, making a meal of the moment when the once-dead lover reappears at the end of the first act. Romeo’s appearance means that the rules of the story are constantly being rewritten. And there are certainly moments where & Juliet leans into the meta, but its biggest tool is its sincerity; the show avoids relying too much on its referential framing device as a crux, which it comes close to.

While the colorful staging and costumes that play on both classic and modern fashion certainly add to the production value, there are moments when the flashiness of & Juliet becomes all too distracting. The bottom half of the stage effectively serves as Juliet’s bedroom, a street outside a ball, and a wedding venue without much re-organization needed. The issue comes with the upper half of the stage, which uses a screen with colorful designs that often appear during big music sequences. This makes it often difficult to know where to look with so much movement already happening, taking away from the undeniable stage presence of this incredible ensemble.

Thankfully, the second act of the show slows down, allowing for more intimate moments as Juliet is forced to contend with her lasting feelings for Romeo, Nick questions their place in the world and Anne sees the writing on the wall. As the show builds up to its climactic wedding (in true Shakespeare fashion), truths are forced out into the open, and these complicated love stories find their fitting conclusion.

The Los Angeles production of & Juliet makes for a fun night out on the town, and because the actors embrace the cheesiness without any hesitation, it’s hard not to be singing along by the end. Despite the premise, Juliet’s arc in the show is less about her saying no to love or no to a man, but making an active choice in her life. That’s a choice that all of us deserve to make, and this show celebrates that in true jukebox fashion.

& Juliet runs Wednesday, August 13 to Sunday, September 7, 2025 at the Ahmanson Theatre, Los Angeles / Tuesday, September 9 to Sunday, September 21, 2025 at Segerstrom Hall, Segerstrom Center for the Arts, Costa Mesa

Like so many others of my generation, I first became aware of Terence Stamp when he appeared as General Zod in 1978’s “Superman,” and I was struck by the fact that, despite his relatively short screen time and the fact that I had never heard of him, he was featured in the movie’s advertising as if he were a major player.

As a budding young cinema nerd, that, coupled with the cool charisma he projected through his villainous turn as an interplanetary supercriminal, piqued my attention. It wasn’t long thereafter when a late-night broadcast of “Billy Budd” – the 1962 film version of Herman Melville’s posthumously published novella in which the then-young Stamp was first thrust into stardom – introduced me to him as he had been introduced to the world that came before me. And it was electrifying.

Here was a young actor whose breathtaking beauty was rendered even more irresistible by his palpable intelligence and his carefree disregard of contemporary standards of masculinity. I was captured by the ease with which he embodied his role as young 19th-century sailor, conscripted into service on a British warship and turned into an outcast for his gentle nature and optimistic spirit; pitted against an aggressively masculine superior whose obsessive dislike of him snowballs into tragedy, he embodied a quality that resonated deeply with parts of myself I was still not fully prepared to explore. Though I may have been too young to catch all the obvious queer subtext that was built into the story by Melville himself (Google it if you’re skeptical), I knew that there was something about this movie that had been ignored or missed outright when it was released. The film was largely dismissed as a weak and pointless effort, almost certainly because of a refusal to acknowledge its homoerotic subtext – but that I somehow understood and into which I felt immediately entwined, all because I recognized something of myself in Stamp’s near-angelic personification of the role.

I was not the only one, nor was I the first. Coming into the public spotlight in a time when post-war British austerity was yielding to new and more socially aware attitudes toward masculinity and sexual expression, Stamp – who received his first and only Oscar nomination for “Billy Budd,” despite its lukewarm reception – soon became a fixture of “mod” popular culture, parlaying his confidently androgynous appeal into international stardom. He was a film star who worked with revered artists like Fellini and upstart auteurs like Pasolini, half of the era’s “it” couple with model Jean Shrimpton, and a jet-setting fashion plate as famous for his sense of style as for his skills in front of the camera.

Indeed, while he was the embodiment of his era’s particular flavor of fame and glamour, the kind of stardom afforded to more conventionally masculine UK-born contemporaries – like Sean Connery, Michael Caine, or Peter O’Toole – eluded him. Adored by the glitterati, he was ignored by the mainstream, who found his work in films like “The Collector” (as a deeply repressed sexual predator who kidnaps a young woman) or “Far From the Madding Crowd” (opposite fellow “mod” icon Julie Christie) too challenging, too ambiguous and vaguely transgressive to fully embrace, no matter the considerable appeal of his physical beauty. In hindsight, it’s easy to recognize the brilliance of his boundary-pushing work during these early “salad days,” but to the masses of the time, there was perhaps something too uncomfortable about the feelings he evoked onscreen.

And then, there was Pasolini’s “Teorema,” in which he played an angelic, otherworldly figure who seduces an entire Italian bourgeois family – mother, father, son, daughter, and maid – without regard for conventional notions of sexuality or socially condoned boundaries. More than any other film, perhaps, it was the lightning rod through which his entire film career would eventually be illuminated. Confidently embodying a radical vision of sexual fluidity before the language for such things was even available in common public discourse, he became a symbol of gender ambiguity decades before appearing in the film that would eventually cement his legacy as a queer cinema icon: 1994’s “The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert,” in which his stately portrayal of a transgender drag performer mentoring a pair of younger queerlings earned him a well-deserved and long-overdue “comeback.”

In the intervening years, of course, there was “Superman” and its 1980 sequel, in which he turned a one-dimensional villain into a fan-favorite symbol of elegantly campy outsider-ism. Before that, there was a retreat from the spotlight, during which he explored his spiritual side in India; after, he embarked on a whole new career of boundary-pushing projects (like Stephen Frear’s 1984 gangster-centered character study “The Hit”) and mainstream cameos (as in 1987’s “Wall Street” and 1988’s “Young Guns”). But it was “Priscilla” – despite a later appearance in the “Star Wars” franchise (in 1999’s “The Phantom Manace”) – that permanently cemented him in the cinematic firmament, embodying a dignified, confident, and utterly aspirational portrait of queer identity that continues to inspire today.

After my discovery of “Billy Budd,” all of Stamp’s work was on my radar; but alas, in an industry that values easy conformity over open-minded exploration, so much of his career remained obscured in the public eye by indifference; I went on the journey undertaken by countless fans before me, disturbed by “The Collector,” titillated by “Madding Crowd,” and thrillingly corrupted by the radical transgressiveness of “Teorema.” I was further drawn to his performances in “The Hit” and “The Limey,” and forever empowered by his unflagging commitment to challenging his audiences in a way I had to assume he wanted to challenge himself. In the end, there was far too little of Terence Stamp in the public imagination than he deserved – and that, perhaps more than anything else, made me enthralled by his unique place in pop culture history.

And while it may have been “Priscilla” that introduced him to a new audience of queer fans, just as “Superman” had brought him back into a spotlight he had long since abandoned, it was ultimately his fearless dedication to stretching cultural boundaries around sex, gender, masculinity, and identity itself that made him the unsung giant we are left to mourn in the wake of his passing last week, at age 87 – a personal hero for myself and the countless other queer people who saw what he was doing and found themselves magnified, validated, and truly seen because of it. Never content to be defined as a sex symbol, a leading man, or any other easily-categorized “type” (though he openly discussed his non-conforming sexual leanings, he always declined to identify as “bisexual” or “queer” or any of the other labels we all feel so compelled to embrace in our militant modern age), he instead embodied a spirit of open-minded exploration and individually-defined humanity, in which cultural boundaries and expectations are not only unnecessary, but counter to our national inclinations to live an authentic life.

If I had been a movie star, I would have wanted to be the kind of movie star that Terence Stamp was – and that is saying a lot.

‘Hotshot: A Life on Fire’
By River Selby
c.2025, Atlantic Monthly Press
$27/326 pages

How you doing?

Everything good? You need anything, something to drink, a plate of food, a hug, just say the word. If you’re here, you should at least be happy about it. As in the new book “Hotshot” by River Selby, there’s a problem if something’s wrong.

River Selby never set out to be a hotshot firefighter.

They never set out to do anything, in fact, but to stay alive while doing drugs, selling sex for food and money, working as a stripper and a waitress, and living for a time with a man under a bridge. It wasn’t the life they imagined when they became a runaway as a tweenager. Fighting fires was never on the radar until too many losses and an “unraveled” life, bulimia, and a series of fast-food jobs sent them into a deep depression. The suggestion from a friend, a lifeline thrown, made Selby realize that they “would have tried anything.”

“A week later,” they said, “I was hired. Two weeks after that I was on my way to New Mexico for my first fire assignment.”

Quickly and clearly, a big goal became apparent: Selby wanted to be a hotshot, to feel the “reverence” and camaraderie that elite firefighters enjoy, to know the excitement of chasing a raging fire – but they were told, “You can’t be a hotshot. You’re a girl.”

Two years later, the dream was realized after all when they were hired as “the first woman” of a hotshot crew, a fact of which the supervisor reminded Selby constantly. Sexual harassment and constant put-downs instantly became on-the-job concerns, none of which could be reported for fear of reprisals. That intensified Selby’s bulimia, sending them on an emotional tailspin, unsure of themselves and the root of the anxiety and feelings of inadequacy.

They sought therapy – and things again became clear.

“If you really believe that about yourself,” a therapist told them, “then someone taught you to believe it.”

In the past few months, there have been a lot of new memoirs about fighting fires, each as timely as the last. In the midst of them comes “Hotshot,” which is absolutely not a made-for-TV book. It’s different.

Yes, you’ll find some danger inside here and some edge-of-your-seat pages but mostly, fires aren’t all that need fighting in author River Selby’s account. From the opening pages, they plainly let readers know that their back story isn’t what you might expect from someone in a gutsy profession; in fact, this memoir might instead change your definition of “gutsy” as the actual fires they battled take somewhat of a back seat. In the fiery wake of #MeToo, that can get squirmy but Selby’s stories from history, ecology, and geology make great ballast.

This is a worthy book for adventurers, and for readers who wonder what it’s like for a nonbinary person in a deeply swaggering world. “Hotshot” may rankle you, it may inspire you, it may open your eyes to your own soul, so find it and read. With this book, you’ll love doing it.

The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.

The recently released Weapons is already being lauded as the scariest film of 2025.

Directed by Zach Cregger, this story about an entire class of third graders running away is a twisty tale of dark magic, visceral bloodshed, and unnerving women (who gay men are already labelling as icons). The movie’s trailers are filled with uncanny imagery, yet one of these clips never fails to unsettle: a woman’s blood-caked face slamming through a wooden door, desperately trying to tear apart the young boy within. That woman is Mrs. Lilly, and when actress Callie Schuttera isn’t trying to massacre children onscreen, she’s working with her wife to uplift LGBTQ+ stories today. 

The Los Angeles Blade sat down with the performer to discuss her role in Weapons and how much LGBTQ+ horror fans have been loving the film since its release — not only for its inclusion of non-straight characters, but the many “bad women” that fill its plot. The performer was thrilled to be in the latter category; Mrs. Lilly is the mother of the only child not to run away, who only gets a few speaking scenes before transforming into a bloodthirsty puppet. When asked her approach to portraying a character that oscillates wildly between maternal and murderous, Schuttera explained, “It was important to show what our family looked like before the outside influence came in…that maybe we weren’t a perfect family, but a normal [one], and we loved each other.”

She spent a majority of the conversation gushing about her place in the film, particularly how much Mrs. Lilly’s wanton violence has been terrifying everyone watching. “I think it’s because it subverts that motherly expectation,” she remarked, on why your average (and usually non-Queer) viewer is so disturbed by villainous mothers. “We expect comfort and nurture from mom. To see the opposite than what we expect, it really messes with our heads.” She continued about how much she appreciated this role, not just because it let her become her most gruesome self, but for how it offers an exceptional model of ‘casual Queerness.’

“My favorite part about [Weapons] is that we are showing Queer characters without having to explain or justify their queerness — they can just be [who they are]!” She exclaimed, when breaking down the film’s non-straight storylines and what she hopes they mean for the future of horror. “I think for so long, [horror has] cornered LGBTQ stories into this trauma box. That if we’re going to tell a story of Gay and Queer people, it has to come with heartbreak…I think one of the keys to integrating ‘us Gays’ into society fully is [making it clear that] we are just doing normal things.” It’s a type of casual representation that LGBTQ+ creators have spent the past few decades pushing for, and while Schuttera helps the cause through her acting roles, she went an extra step further in the fight for inclusion: she started her own production company.

Co-founded by Schuttera and her partner, Gabriela Ledesma, Poison Pictures works with the ‘best up-and-coming filmmakers in LA and around the world to create high-quality products from start to finish.’ When asked why her and Gabriela felt the need to start the production company, Schuttera explained, “If you want to make original stories, that is the best way to refine your skills and learn the industry — especially if you want to be part of producing your own work, and not just handing it over to someone else.” 

Whether it’s the couple’s own projects or various TV commercials, Poison Pictures has quickly proven itself to be one of the best resources for indie creators — and it couldn’t exist at a better time. Because while Schuttera is happy to have an avenue to tell truly authentic stories, she recognizes that artistic creation free from discrimination is a right that people are being denied now more than ever. And that, with discriminatory groups and prejudiced politicians feeling emboldened to share their hateful rhetoric, it’s becoming scarier for Queer people to tell their stories without fear of backlash today.

This unfortunate truth is what makes Schuttera so grateful not only for her company, but for how her role in Weapons can help other artists realize that their dreams aren’t impossible. This is the mission that drives her through every project —  whether she’s onscreen or behind the camera — and it’s why she works so hard to make it easier for Queer filmmakers to access the resources and support they need. When asked to finish the interview with some advice for those LGBTQ+ creators who are afraid to tell their stories right now, she said, “Don’t be afraid to keep running at the problem. Don’t be afraid to keep having conversations. Don’t be afraid to stake your worth.”

“Because when you show up for yourself, all those people who have a certain idea about you, they’re going to learn. You’re going to educate them by standing up for yourself and showing them how to treat you.”

On Thursday, August 28th, 6 pm at the Abbey in West Hollywood, the business, political, and entertainment community will come together to celebrate queer joy and the cannabis culture for “Loud and Proud.” The event is free.

The connection between cannabis and the LGBTQIA+ community is rooted in activism, care, and survival. During the height of the AIDS crisis in the 1980s and ’90s, queer activists and allies fought to decriminalize and legalize medical cannabis as a vital tool for pain relief, appetite stimulation, and quality of life for those living with HIV/AIDS. Figures like Brownie Mary and Dennis Peron risked arrest to provide cannabis to patients, sparking the movement that led to California’s Proposition 215 — the first law in the U.S. legalizing medical marijuana.

This evening will also celebrate the “Loud & Proud” digital docuseries produced by
Culture Machine, in collaboration with The Last Prisoner Project, spotlighting the intersection
of queer identity, activism, and cannabis culture — celebrating joy as resistance and honoring the communities that built the movement. Featuring prominent voices such as Laganja
Estranja, Jorgeous, Justin Simien, Luke Anderson, and other leaders in the space, “Loud &
Proud” blends history, storytelling, and cultural commentary to highlight how cannabis has been used as a tool for healing, protest, and liberation.

This event at The Abbey brings that mission to life, with live performances, a panel discussion, and a community gathering, to celebrate the past, uplift the present, and inspire the future of cannabis justice.

The evening will feature live performances by Maris and S.I.A.T. Los Angeles Blade publisher Alexander Rodriguez will moderate the evening and feature panelists Andrés Rigal (co-founder of Green Qween), Maha Haq (cannabis educator, consultant, and activist, founder of UCLA’s Cannaclub, Head Coach for Social Equity Development at the LA Department of Cannabis Regulation), Vanessa Oliver (CEO of Cloud9 Studios and founder of the Cannabis Wedding Expo), and West Hollywood City Councilman John Erickson.

The event is FREE, RSVP HERE.

“Loud and Proud,” Thursday, August 28th, 6 – 9 pm,

The Abbey: 692 N ROBERTSON BLVD, WEST HOLLYWOOD

For more than two decades, Andrés Rigal has been a fixture in Los Angeles’s LGBTQ nightlife scene, pioneering a diverse portfolio of events from EVITA to Summertramp and DTLA Proud. But recently, the nightlife mogul expanded his business holdings by launching Green Qween, LA’s first cannabis retailer dedicated to serving the LGBTQ+ community.

Green Qween officially launched in 2022 as a partnership between Rigal and Taylor Bazley with its first location in DTLA. After overwhelming success, it has expanded to a new location in the heart of West Hollywood at San Vicente and Santa Monica, in partnership with “CEO of Everything Gay” Tristan Schukraft.

With Rigal set to be a featured panelist at Loud & Proud, an event celebrating the same-titled digital docuseries about the history of the queer cannabis community at the Abbey on Aug. 28, and presented by the Los Angeles Blade, Culture Machine, and the Last Prisoner Project, we spoke with Rigal about the challenges and opportunities that come with being a queer retail pioneer.

(This interview has been edited for brevity.)

Blade: How did your background in queer nightlife prepare you for the cannabis retail business?

Andrés Rigal: For more than 20 years, I’ve had the privilege of producing queer nightlife in Los Angeles, always with the community at the heart of every brand I create. My focus has always been on creating spaces that celebrate the full spectrum of our vibrant, multifaceted LGBTQ+ community. 

Early on, I recognized a gap. So much of queer nightlife felt exclusive, catering to narrow circles instead of embracing our diversity. That realization became my mission: to break down silos and create events where every corner of the LGBTQ+ family feels seen, celebrated, and invited to the party.

At Green Qween, we’ve centered the queer community in every aspect of our brand. Proceeds go directly to local queer-led nonprofits, ensuring our success supports the community that laid the foundation for this industry.

For me, entrepreneurship is about more than building businesses. It’s about creating platforms that amplify voices, foster inclusivity, and celebrate the diversity that makes our community so extraordinary.

Blade: Why do you think it’s important to have an LGBTQ-focused cannabis store? What does Green Qween provide that other cannabis retailers don’t?

Rigal: To open Green Qween WeHo, we had to first transfer our cannabis license from a previous address to our current location. This meant we had to make our case for the transfer in front of the West Hollywood Business License Commission. That night we had more than 30 people from the community show up and speak on our behalf, something the commission said was unprecedented. Community members shared personal stories about the importance of seeing queer and trans employees at the DTLA store, and why queer representation matters even when shopping for cannabis. The commission then voted unanimously to approve our license transfer and said Green Qween would be “a net positive for the community.” 

At Green Qween, we invest in our community with the intention that the community’s success is an indication of our success.

Blade: How has business at the new location in Weho been going? How does the store experience compare to the downtown location?

Rigal: Green Qween WeHo is a runaway hit. Before we opened, people were clamoring to know when our grand opening would take place. Now that we’re open, it’s been non-stop. People love our friendly and knowledgeable staff, the delicious interior design and, of course, the five-foot disco ball that sparkles day and night.

The WeHo experience is similar to our downtown location. Although the color palette of the stores are slightly different, you know it’s a Green Qween when you walk in. In DTLA you get the same amazing service, the top selection of cannabis, and our stunning post-modern design with an enormous, shimmering disco ball. Our DTLA store is an icon while our new WeHo store points toward the future.

Blade: How do you see cannabis culture intersecting with queer identity/community? Do queer people have a special connection to cannabis?

Rigal: The LGBTQ+ community significantly shapes pop culture, and this includes the intersection of cannabis culture. LGBTQ+ activists created the medical market in California during the HIV/AIDS epidemic of the ‘80s and ‘90s. Since then, we’ve been pushed out of the industry, which is one of the reasons we’re here to take up space and reclaim our legacy.

Blade: How have you seen the queer community’s relationship to cannabis change or evolve over your time as a figure in the community?

Rigal: I’ve seen the queer community embrace cannabis more over time, especially as stigma is reduced and it becomes more mainstream. People turn to cannabis for so many reasons, including medical, recreational, spiritual, and even as a more mindful alternative to alcohol. Cannabis truly is plant medicine and can help people just as much as it can facilitate a good time.

Blade: What are you planning to discuss at the Loud and Proud panel? What do you want people to take away from it?

Rigal: At the Loud and Proud panel, we’ll cover nightlife and cannabis in the queer community. I hope people will take away a feeling of pride in our community’s contribution to cannabis culture and a sense of ownership to further steward a future of plant medicine that honors this history.

(Green Qween is located at 802 N. San Vicente Blvd in West Hollywood. “Loud and Proud: Tracing the Smoke Back to Its Source” will take place at the Abbey, 692 N. Robertson Blvd. on Aug. 28 from 6-9 p.m.) 

There’s subversive theater, and then there’s the visually intoxicating whirlwind that is & Juliet. A re-imagining of Romeo & Juliet, this jukebox musical envisions what would’ve happened if Shakespeare’s young heroine hadn’t joined her love in an early grave. Shirking its inspiration’s problematic themes, it sees Juliet embark on a colorful journey of self-discovery (while belting out some of the best pop songs of this century).

The show has earned international acclaim since its premiere in 2019, with thousands of fans delighting not only in & Juliet’s music but also in its portrayal of something that is unfortunately rare nowadays: healthy, non-tokenizing LGBTQ+ representation. The LA Blade caught up with the cast of & Juliet’s North American tour during their stop in Los Angeles and learned how they feel sharing this kind of show all over the U.S. — and what they hope it means for the future of musical theater as a whole. 

& Juliet finds its Queer voice in the character of May, Juliet’s non-binary best friend. The plot sees May join the young woman’s liberating adventure, not only supporting her but finding out more about themself as they absolutely conquer Britney Spears classics and fall in love with the timid Francois. May’s performer, Nick Drake (who identifies as non-binary in real life), summed up what this role means to them in one phrase: “I have the greatest job in the entire world.”

They raved about how important it feels to bring this character to audiences all across the United States, exclaiming, “To share the [message] that queer people not only exist, but deserve the same amount of love and passion that everybody else [receives] every single day…that is such a great, great gift.” It was a sentiment that their co-star, Kathryn Allison (who plays Juliet’s put-upon caretaker Angélique) shared, adding how this has been especially valuable when performing in conservative states. Knowing that so many viewers will be returning to non-supportive homes, she says, “I think people being able to see themselves represented in the show…it’s really powerful. To make sure that they know that they’re not alone, right? We really provide a safe space for [them] to be themselves, when maybe in their own communities they can’t be at the moment.”

These performers work hard to leave their audience with a sense of belonging, something that is felt in every scene of & Juliet; the story sees Juliet struggle to find herself in a rigid society where people refuse to understand her. Luckily, with people like May and Angélique, she finds comfort in a chosen family like no other, with each jaw-dropping performance bringing her new people to cherish and new spaces to be her most authentic self in. It’s a comforting narrative that, during a time when discriminatory politicians and hate groups are becoming more vocal, audiences need to hear more than ever. But this cast isn’t willing to let the musical’s message end just because they take their final bow. They imagine a future where musicals offer nuanced LGBTQ+ characters that any viewer can really learn from — not just quirky sidekicks good for a few laughs. 

One of this cast’s biggest advocates for inclusion is & Juliet’s leading lady herself, Rachel Webb. She doesn’t take her role as Juliet lightly and is proud of the massive work this show does for Queer representation, saying, “I’m really grateful [for] what & Juliet does with May; they’re not just the funny best friend. They have their own storyline, and they have their own “falling in love” story.” When asked what she hopes for the future of representation in musical theater, she continues, “I think I would love to see more trans voices in the writing rooms. I would love to see more trans voices on stage, [and in] stories in which they’re centered as love interests and not just comedic characters.” It was a desire that Drake shared wholeheartedly, proclaiming, “It’s now a tokenized plotline to have [someone] be hurt because they’re Queer — I think that’s tired, y’all!” They agreed, along with the rest of their cast, that the best future for musical theater is one where LGBTQ+ characters are truly allowed the spotlight. Are given the chance to be nuanced, well-rounded individuals, ones who don’t get used as easy sources of dramatic trauma or insignificant streams of self-deprecating jokes. It would be a monumental future for a medium that has historically benefited from the Queer community while failing to respectfully portray its members. 

And, with shows like & Juliet bringing a signature style of radical, musical inclusion all over the world, it’s a future that may arrive sooner than any of us can expect. 

& Juliet runs Wednesday, August 13 to Sunday, September 7, 2025 at the Ahmanson Theatre, Los Angeles / Tuesday, September 9 to Sunday, September 21, 2025 at Segerstrom Hall, Segerstrom Center for the Arts, Costa Mesa

When Hollywood forgets the full flavor of storytelling, artists like Cecilio Asuncion bring the spice. With a creative compass pointed at authenticity, Asuncion has been serving up stories that go deeper than big box office regurgitations and sanitized clichés. In an industry that still misses the mark on nuance, especially when it comes to marginalized folks and their identities, Asuncion steps in with work that doesn’t just “check boxes.” He builds entirely new platforms, like Cinepride, a film festival born from the need to showcase stories that Hollywood still sidelines.

Let’s be honest –  representation isn’t just about who gets the spotlight—it’s about who gets to hold the camera, write the script, and take a stab at tweaking society for the better through film. Whether he’s reframing tired tropes or elevating new voices through a cultural lens, Asuncion proves that storytelling is in need of purpose, not permission. We recently had the chance to talk with Asuncion about reclaiming narratives, making room for honest expression, and  creating Cinepride from the ground up, and why the future of film might just be found far from the studio lot.

What was the moment when the idea for CinePride ignited? What was that creative process like?

CinePride actually came from a really difficult place. My husband passed away the night before Thanksgiving in 2023, almost two years ago now. Because I come from the independent filmmaking world, I thought, “You know what? This could be a meaningful legacy project.” Looking back at my career, I realized that so many doors had been opened for me, and I wanted to create a space where people could come together. Not in competition, but in collaboration.

That’s one of the things I’m most proud of with CinePride. We’re not trying to create another competitive film festival. I mean, you know how festivals can feel, so cutthroat, like a pageant. But that’s not the point. Especially as a gay Filipino immigrant, I’ve been taught that there’s only so much space for someone who looks like me. So naturally, we begin to see each other as competition. But CinePride is about dismantling that mindset. We’re starting fresh.

It’s like the whole “only one seat at the table” concept.

Exactly.

What sets CinePride apart from other LGBTQIA+ film festivals?

We’re kind. That’s probably the biggest thing. And I mean that genuinely. Also, our programming is deeply intentional. We owe a huge thanks to the screening committee, our Programming Director Miguel Santos, and our Development Director Michael Daly. We made a conscious decision that “community” doesn’t just mean “gay.” It means honoring all the different colors, identities, and orientations that make up our world.

Because I’m still actively working in the industry, I know what it feels like to be a filmmaker submitting to a festival. I remember when I did the rounds with my first documentary, What’s the T? I was so excited to meet people, but I got treated like I didn’t belong – classic mean-girl energy. Even that needs to change. Kindness and grace matter, especially when you’re already in the room. And for those submitting, whether to us or anyone else, graciousness will take you far. This industry is small. People remember how you treat them. We might not always be nice, but we’re always kind. That’s a big distinction.

One of your awards is for Best Micro-content. Can you talk about what that category includes?

It’s for films under five minutes. But we created it to make space for people without access to big budgets or fancy gear. Maybe all they have is their phone. It’s especially geared toward youth and emerging creators. And in a world of reels and short-form storytelling, that kind of work deserves to be seen too.

Another award that stands out is the Social Impact Award. What led you to create that, especially in our current climate?

Look at the world we’re in right now. I’m Gen X, and we didn’t grow up with social media. But today, I think we confuse posting with activism. And that’s not enough. We need to do something – whether that’s running a festival, helping at a food bank, or just showing up for our community.

When I worked on Strut and with Slay Model Management, I made it a point to connect with nonprofits doing real work for the trans community. They’re doing the heavy lifting – housing, healthcare, survival. Film and entertainment get all the attention, so it’s our job to spotlight the people who don’t get enough of it.

That all really resonates. It’s frustrating when people give a shout-out during an awards speech and then do… nothing.

Yes! I call it “fad-vocacy.” Like, don’t thank the trans community in your Emmy speech and then never hire them. Don’t wear a “Protect Trans Kids” shirt and then disappear. That doesn’t help anyone pay for groceries or hormones.

CinePride also includes panels and Q&As. Are there any you’re especially excited about?

Absolutely! We’re partnering with NBCU Launch, and I’m really excited about that. We’re bringing our community in front of actual decision-makers, people who might not have had that kind of access before.

I really believe in what Michelle Obama said: when you walk through doors of opportunity, you keep them open for others. I’m where I am because so many people helped me. I got to executive produce my first TV show with Whoopi Goldberg. That doesn’t happen to everyone, and I’ll never forget it. So now I ask myself: how can I do the same for others?

That’s powerful. What does “advocacy through film” mean to you? And how do you think Hollywood might be falling short?

Advocacy through film means telling the stories that matter and making sure they’re seen by people outside our community. We already know our own struggles. The goal is to reach others.

Now on Hollywood, It’s tough. Advocacy and business don’t always coexist easily. That’s why independent film is so important. Most of these filmmakers aren’t doing it for money – they’re doing it because they have to tell these stories. We’ve made progress in Hollywood, especially with authentic casting and representation, but we still have a long way to go. And honestly, I think when the current gatekeepers retire or… move on, your generation will do things better.

Were there any unexpected challenges that came up while planning CinePride?

Surprisingly, no major wrenches. People warned me it’d be a huge undertaking – and it is – but when you’ve produced a full season of TV, a three-day film festival feels manageable. The bigger challenge is funding, especially from government sources. That’s why we leaned into private sponsors instead. I didn’t want to take money from trans organizations that need it more than we do. Thankfully, I’ve been able to invest in this project myself.

That’s both incredibly generous and intentional. You mentioned you moved from the Philippines at nineteen. How has your Filipino background shaped your work?

Honestly, my family wasn’t traditional. My mom was always supportive. We weren’t raised with rigid gender roles or cultural expectations. So I didn’t have a hard time adjusting when I moved here. But I’ve come to see how different that experience is. A lot of Asian peers have learned to stay quiet, to fly under the radar. I was never taught that. I’ve always been encouraged to speak up.

If you could make a cameo in any LGBTQ+ film, which one would it be?

It’s not technically LGBTQ+, but I’d say Death Becomes Her. That’s ours now, right? That or Soapdish. I watched that movie over and over with my best friend Marco. So when I got to work with Whoopi? Full circle.

Would you rather watch a tearjerker or a campy comedy?

Sad movies are like porn – you should watch them alone. But comedies? Definitely with friends. I love ridiculous stuff like Scary Movie – Regina Hall’s Brenda is iconic.

How do you see CinePride evolving in the future?

Bigger and better. I want CinePride in Asia, in Europe, everywhere. And I want us to reach a point where we don’t have to talk about representation – because it’s just the norm.

CinePride runs September 11 – 14, 2025 at Landmark Theatres Sunset.

For more information, visit CinePride.org and follow @CinePrideFilmFest on social media.