The Ever Afters

Nostalgia is a powerful drug. It’s why an unexpected mention of one of your favorite childhood books – be it “Where the Red Fern Grows” or “Anne of Green Gables” or that childhood memories juggernaut “Harry Potter” – can bring up instant emotions of communal delight. And that why lesbians everywhere goes nuts when Piper Perabo tweets Lena Headey. And why every time Renee O’Connor and Lucy Lawless hug at some public event a baby dyke gets her wings. And why the photo of Natasha Lyonne and Clea DuVall snuggling up above probably made your heart skip a big lesbian beat. I remember seeing “But I’m a Cheerleader” in theaters some 14 years ago. Yes, FOURTEEN years ago. That movie came out in 1999, people. But I think I can still recite Natasha’s big gay cheer for Clea by heart. Like childhood memories, lesbian movies memories from our formative coming out years always tend to mean the most. Hell, I happily own a copy of “Go Fish” – terrible acting and all. And it’s often the couple – whether they end up happily ever after or not – that make the biggest impression. And that couple becomes The Couple to us. Plus we gay ladies tend to be a stubbornly loyal group – once we love you we’ll love you forever. So here’s a small taste of then & now nostalgia via some of The Couples we all love

For a lot of people Megan & Graham will be The Couple of their youth. For others it’s Rachel & Luce. For others still it’s Vivian & Cay.

Lena Headey & Piper Perabo/Rachel & Luce
Lena needs to cameo on “Covert Affairs.” I’d wish for Piper to be on “Game of Thrones,” but we all know she’d probably just die a horrible death. So, you know, let’s play it safe.

Helen Shaver & Patricia Charbonneau/Vivian & Cay
See, she stayed on that train well past the next stop.

Lucy Lawless & Renee O’Connor/Xena & Gabrielle
Could you imagine if Renee showed up on “Parks & Rec” and Ron suddenly felt strangely jealous? You’re welcome for the free story idea, writers.

Natasha Lyonne & Clea DuVall/Megan & Graham
Clearly, Clea needs to get herself sent to Litchfield. Clearly.

Right, so who it The Couple for you. And, admit it, you feel all warm and fuzzy just thinking about all these imaginary happily ever afters.

Gravity of the Situation

It’s not too often I get excited about a movie that I’m almost certain will fail the Bechdel Test. But in the new space thriller “Gravity,” I just might be. It’s been another predictable summer of dudes blowing up shit at the box office. Superheroes, soldiers and spectacularly stupid stuff have crammed the theaters. The two movies I was most interested in seeing (“The Bling Ring,” “The Heat”) I missed because I’d rather spend my weekends supporting shows with amazing female casts (“Orange Is the New Black,” “Orphan Black,” “The Fosters”) that are the rule, not the exception. Don’t worry, I’ll catch those movies on Red Box of Netflix or whatever some lazy Sunday afternoon in the future. p.s. I did see “The Conjuring” in the theater which was quite good with an amazing cast and did pass Bechdel’s Test because talking with another woman about a demonic ghost totally counts.

But for now only one trailer has me most mesmerized and ready to perhaps head back into the theater. It’s “Gravity” a lost-in-space drama about two astronauts literally adrift. If you check out the on-screen cast it’s only Sandra Bullock and George Clooney. Like, no kidding, those are the only two characters in this piece. The film is from director Alfonso Cuarón, the man behind “A Little Princess,” “Y Tu Mamá También,” “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban” and “Children of Men.” And fucking hell trailer makes it look like your worst nightmare. If it’s possible to feel claustrophobic in the endless expanse of space, these clips do it.





At Comic-Con, Cuarón told the press he got predictably sexist pushback from the industry about having a female lead. Like, why do we even need one? This is a movie about space, chicks don’t need to be in space. A report from Women in Hollywood quotes him as saying:

When I finished the script, there were voices that were saying, 'well, we should change it to a male lead.' Obviously they were not powerful enough voices, because we got away with it. But the sad thing is that there is still that tendency.

You know, of all the genres, women have actually done quite well for themselves in science fiction. Think Ripley in the “Alien” franchise, think Sarah Connor in “Terminator” franchise, think Dana Scully in “The X-Files,” hell, Princess fucking Leia!

So while this movie more than likely will fail Bechdel’s golden rule about having two named female characters who take to one another about something other than a man, I think it will still advance our presence on that final frontier.

All roads lead to lesbianism

While my Pride Month Lesbian Movie Rewind Experience 2013 has ended – finished it off with “Edie & Thea: A Very Long Engagement,” appropriately, last week. (You can stream it yourself on Netflix or Wolfe.) But the amusing discoveries from the LMRE 2013 continue. Like, did you know a lot of now-famous faces made some of their very first appearances in lesbian movies? Rewatching some of the recent (and less recent) lesbian cinema classics reveal some very special guest starts before they were very special. A sampling of leztastic cameos:

Emily VanCamp in “Lost & Delirious”

Before she sought her “Revenge,” Emily was Tori’s annoying sister, Allison, who really needs to learn how to knock first.

Jeffrey Tambor in “Desert Hearts”

Before he was the Bluth family patriarch on “Arrested Development,” Jeffrey worked at the ranch Prof. Vivian Bell came to stay during her quickie divorce.

Dale Dickey in “The Incredibly True Adventures of 2 Girls in Love”

Before she was the wolfie grandma of Alcide’s new pack on “True Blood,” Dale was Randy Dean’s coworker at the gas station.

Benedict Cumberbatch in “Tipping the Velvet”

Before he was the all-knowing, all-deducing Sherlock Holmes, Benedict wasn’t able to see or deduce that his so-called girlfriend Nan Austin was a total lezzer.

Rashida Jones in “If These Walls Could Talk 2”

Before she was beautiful tropical fish Ann Perkins on “Parks & Recreation,” Rashida was one of the “unnamed angry feminists” who didn’t want the lesbians to mess up their fight for women’s rights.

Christopher Meloni in “Bound”

Before he was Det. Stabler on “Law & Order,” Chris was the dim-witted son of the mob boss.

Mila Kunis in “Gia

Before she was the imaginary “Black Swan,” Mila was a young Angelina.

Idina Menzel in “Kissing Jessica Stein”

Before she was “Wicked,” Idina was an overly happy bridesmaid.

See all roads (to fame) really do lead back to lesbianism.

My Weekend Crush

Since the invention of the kiss, there have only been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one, well, let’s just call it our standard bearer. As my grand lesbian movie rewind experience continues, I spent last night reliving that romance in Reno, “Desert Hearts.” The 1985 classic holds its own all these years later. Sure, it also may have invented the U-Haul (or in this case Union-Pacific) lesbian. But, my, don’t parts still reach in and put a string of lights around your heart. The second Cay’s convertible roared into reverse and her hair whipped across her aviators we, and Professor Vivian Bell, were goners. But it was That Kiss. That in the rain, through the window, dripping wet kiss that made our hearts truly soar. That set the bar for all other lesbian movie kisses to follow. Heck, movie kisses in general. And what a high bar it was, indeed. Happy weekend, all.



p.s. Need to watch the whole thing for yourself now? You can rent and stream it from Wolfe on Demand or, of course, my new BFF Netflix.

Delirious times

In honor of Pride Month I thought it’d be fun to watch some “classic” lesbian movies. OK, not necessarily “Maidechen in Uniform” classic. But more like old favorites. And today that old favorite is “Lost & Delirious.” You know, that tragic boarding school tale of first love lost.

The last time I saw it was the first time I saw it back n 2001 when it came out in theaters. So last night I had another look, thanks to my new best friend streaming Netflix.

The first thing you’ll notice is how young everyone looks. Piper Perabo is young. Mischa Barton is young. Jessica Paré is young. And there’s also young Emily VanCamp, Caroline Dhavernas and Meaghan Rath. So, so, so young.

The next thing you’ll notice is so much more of the movie is about general falconry. Seriously, there’s a lot of tending and feeding of that bird. I know, I know – metaphor. Though I’d definitely blocked the whole live mice thing out of my memory banks.

What might hit you after that is how so very melodramatic and emotional and angsty and crazypants the whole affair is. As a depiction of passionate, tumultuous, obsessional first love it’s not necessarily wrong. I mean, who hasn’t gone a little nutters, neglected personal hygiene and stabbed romantic rivals after a particularly bad breakup? Quoting Macbeth in the middle of the woods at night, we’ve all been there – in our hearts. Love makes you do the wacky.

And finally, you might wonder if this movie would ever get made today. The impossibility of two girls falling in love and living happily ever after is at the crux of the story. How it seems so absurd to think the world – your parents, your friends, your classmates – might accept who you really are. Certainly, sadly this still happens today. Homophobia is alive and well and continues to thrive and threaten our happiness and lives everyday. But for a movie to wax eloquent about the inevitable tragedy of two modern teenager girls falling in love in the United States (or was it Canada), well, that now seems quaint and a little absurd. And that’s a good thing.

Ticket to the couch show

When I was a kid, I lived for the movies. Watching the trailers in the theater before a movie started was almost sacred, your one glimpse of what’s to come and what to get excited about. You couldn’t just pop onto YouTube to see all that summer had to offer. You had to wait and anticipate and decide in those two minutes if the fourth Superman movie would really solve the problem of nuclear proliferation.

But over the years, film has become less a driving force in my life. Sure, I still love the movies. The smell of movie theater popcorn makes me instantly feel 13 again and excited about sitting in a dark room with strangers and told fantastical stories.

But that at once solitary yet completely communal act of going to the movies has become less of a cultural driver in recent years because of cinema’s once scoffed upon little sibling, the television. TV is now our cultural barometer, with endless chatter and words and hand-wringing spent on the latest “Game of Thrones,” or “Mad Men” or “Breaking Bad” et al. The serialized nature of TV, its long burn versus quick payoff, makes it perfect for our media obsessed minds. Why just hyperventilate about a 2-hour movie when you could freak out about 22 episodes hour-long spread out over months and month.

I suspect part of TV’s appeal now is the ability to discuss it with dozens, hundred, thousands, millions as it happens. “OMG THE FUCKING STARKS!” said everyone at 9:59 p.m. Sunday night. You can be part of a live conversation and share your opinion with the universe the second it happens. In movies, that immediacy is blocked by basic human decency and the desire not to be the asshole in the theaters who lights up his cellphone to type, “Cool movie, bro.” Heaven forbid we have to wait two hours to tell the world exactly what we thought. But besides the more superficial I tweet therefore I exist aspect of social media, there is also more of a chance to help mold the creative process on TV. That long season means a longer production process which means more fan input which means more audience feedback which could have an impact on storylines and characters. It happens, just ask Brittana (circa seasons 1-2, that is).

But for me, what has turned me over the years away from my first love of the darkened theater and into my current love of my couch (besides comfort and better snacks) is the fact that TV has done a better job of giving women more and better roles. Period. One needs only to look at the current summer movie season to see it’s the same-old boys club where big things go boom. By my informal count there are only three female-led movies coming out: “The Bling Ring,” “Blue Jasmine” and “The Heat.” Two are arthousey fare – Sofia Coppola and Woody Allen projects – and the latter is a buddy cop comedy.

On TV meanwhile the summer offers “Rizzoli & Isles,” “The Fosters,” “The Killing,” “Covert Affairs,” Major Crimes,” “Pretty Little Liars,” “True Blood,” “Hot in Cleveland,” “Unforgettable,” Mistresses” and many more I can’t think of off the top of my head. Women get to be the crime fighters and action heroes and antiheroes and damsels who get themselves into and out of distress almost everything in between.

So I guess what I’m saying is even though movies won my heart first, TV is who I will always go home with. Here’s to long hot summers. And if you want to watch in the dark, just turn off the lights.

Hold a candle

I, like countless other gays, watched the Liberace glitztravaganza “Behind the Candelabra” over the weekend. Part of it was because who can resist that much rhinestone. And part of it was to see how one of the world’s most famous postmortem gays lived his life in the closet. And, OK, part of it was to see Michael Douglas and Matt Damon kiss. But I found myself having another interesting reaction to the film. This reaction at first may seem contradictory considering yesterday’s post, but – if you really think about it – is actually complimentary.

I wish they’d shown more sex between Douglas and Damon. Most of the sex scenes were the standard-issue kiss followed by the fade-out and finished with the sweaty roll off into crumpled sheets. You know, Movie Sex*. Sure, we saw a bare tush here and lots of man pecs there. But there was no full body shots of them engaged in anything sexual and only one fleeting in flagrante scene that served mostly to as a plot point to highlight how Damon’s Scott started out firmly against drugs only to later descend completely into them courtesy Dr. Startz**. It was, all in all, pretty tame. Though keep in mind this is a film made for HBO – a network currently reveling in the exposure of “Game of Boobs and Butts Thrones.”

So does the double standard remain? In mainstream and mainstream-celebrated films, does lesbian sex and gay male sex get the same treatment? If you compare reports from “Blue is the Warmest Color” and evidence from “Behind the Candelabra,” the answer would still be a hard “No.” Same-sex sex between women is celebrated and same-sex sex between men is still makes folks squeamish. Maybe this is because straight men – who are all too many of the creators and also consumers – also get off on lesbian sex, but shrink from the idea of two fellas getting it on. Also female nudity – gay or straight – has always been more casually accepted than male. Sure, you’ve got your Harvey Keitels and Michael Fassbenders who gave us the full monty. But it’s almost easier to count the actresses who you haven’t seen naked than those have. Le sigh.

It’s about time that cinema – literally and figuratively – nutted up. It’s 2013 and if a critically adored movie can feature “impressive scissoring” by on-screen lesbians then it can also feature impressive love-making for the fellas, too.

* We could talk for weeks about how bad, unrealistic, misleading and often unsexy all Movie Sex is in the first place. But, heavens, who has the time. Fade out.
** I would, however, watch an entire movie of Rob Lowe’s plastic surgeon/nightmare factory Dr. Startz.

A different kinds of Blue

For the first time ever a lesbian drama won the top prize at the Cannes Film Festival. Over the weekend the three-hour French coming-of-age film “La Vie d’Adèle” (“Blue Is the Warmest Color” for English audiences) won the Palme D’Or, a prize that was preceded by gushing reviews from critics and frequent breathless mention of its 10- to 15-minute graphic sex scene that made the audience stand up and applaud when it was over. Reviewers of the scene in question have, generally speaking, done the literary equivalent of rent a neon sign that read “HOT LESIAN SEX” and turned it on for all to see. My friend Heather had a nice round-up of reviews of Le Scene over at AE yesterday.

To sum them up:
“writhing, moaning erotic hunger,” “fingering, licking, and, as a friend called it, ‘impressive scissoring,’” “undeniably titillating” and “red hot.”

Now, I am no prude. As yesterday’s post might suggest, my sense of humor might run more blue than some and believe you me I like a hot lesbian sex scene as much as the next gay lady. So it’s not the scene so much that has me perplexed, but the focus on the scene. I guess it’s inevitable. Sex sells everything from cars to deodorant, and it’s been a part of the movies since the first images flickered across a screen. So if the sex gets some folks in to see quality drama, maybe it’s worth it. I just wish one didn’t have to be such a selling point to get us to enjoy the other.

Though, to be fair to critics, they didn’t only wag their tongues at the sexysexytimes. Most also praised rich emotional portrayals and dense character journeys in the film (which was based on a graphic novel). And raves have also been handed out to its stars, Adèle Exarchopoulos and Léa Seydoux, who play 15-year-old Adèle and blue-haired art student Emma – two young women who meet and begin an intense relationship. So that alone has me excited for the film to hit American theaters. Though, this being a French movie, I’m ready for inevitable crushing heartbreak. I love you, my French friends, but your movies tend to depress the living crap out of me – but in a good way. Mostly. Just thinking about “The Dreamlife of Angels” makes me eat a whole box of chocolates.

In conclusion: Rich Lesbian Drama + Hot Lesbian Sex = A Whole Lot of People Are Going to Be Going to Reading Subtitles Soon.

Get in loser, we're going robbing

Mindless fun. Mindless fun. Mindless fun. Say it with me, it just feels good. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been replaying this song in my head since the very first ‘Bling Ring” teaser trailer was released, and each subsequent snippet of the film has only a) increased my desire to watch it and b) increased my desire to dance on tabletops while this song plays. The song in question is “Crown on the Ground” by Sleigh Bells. And that electrocrunky opening riff makes me want to do body shots in a sweaty club. Metaphorically though, because both body shots and sweaty clubs tend to be overrated in real life.

The newest “Bling Ring” trailer showcases both Hermione’s spot on SoCal accent and Dana Fairbanks as her lawyer. (Yes, yes – Emma Watson and Erin Daniels, in real life – I know.) And while the mindless fun of robbing from the rich is the initial appeal, something tells me this movie will manage to sneakily slip in some sharp commentary on our strange celebrity culture. Or, you know, whatever. Get in losers, we’re going robbing.