June 24th: PRIDE

In which our country loses its fucking mind.

Normally, I start these posts with “Happy Friday” or something along those lines, but I’d be lying if I said I felt that enthusiasm right now. The Supreme Court today has spat in the face of conscience and empathy, delivering a noxious, gleefully theocratic, monumentally close-minded decision that will no doubt cost the lives of thousands of women across this country and uproot the lives and dreams of millions more. It’s cruelty for the sake of it, a denial of even the most basic of dignities to a vast swath of our populace in the name of tribalist virtue-signaling and backwards ideologies.

As co-conspirator Clarence Thomas so helpfully pointed out, the malignant growth that is our current Supreme Court won’t be stopping here. His opinion specifically lists Griswold vs Connecticut (access to contraception), Lawrence vs Texas (decriminalization of same-sex relationships), and Obergefell vs Hodges (right to same-sex marriage) as cases to be reconsidered. This country is failing its people, and though much of this change will need to happen at a level seemingly removed from public influence, it’s still essential that we all do what we can to remedy this and other grievous wrongs. Pressure your representatives to codify abortion rights on a federal level. Donate to organizations helping women at risk. Be furious, be loud, but please, don’t let yourself be passive. There’s too much to be done to allow yourself to be numb to these injustices.

I originally planned for this post to highlight movies centered on LGBTQ+ relationships, and I’m still going to do that, because this weekend marks the end of Pride month, a collective celebration of freedom of choice that feels all the more relevant in the wake of our current crisis. These movies span genres, styles, even centuries, but are united by their empathetic, open approach to storytelling. I hope you enjoy them.

The Films:

It’s rare to see a film with such clarity of vision as Portrait of a Lady on Fire (Hulu), French auteur Céline Sciamma’s searingly brilliant depiction of quiet anti-patriarchal rebellion in 18th-century France. A reserved, deliberately subversive piece of filmmaking, it focuses not on sexual attraction (though it’s of course present) but instead on intimacy, highlighting the bonds formed between this group of women as they manage the estate of their absent lord. With meticulously composed cinematography and wonderfully emotive performances, this is the kind of movie that people are going to talk about decades from now, an assured, striking, devastatingly heartfelt accomplishment.

Watch if you’re in the mood for: Fleshed-out relationships, lots of ambience, the perfect ending.

Moonlight (SHOWTIME) is the lowest-budget Best Picture winner of all time, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at it. From start to finish, it’s visually transfixing, opening with an audacious, dizzying introduction before settling into a wonderfully colorful groove (maybe it’s something about Florida, but the colors just really POP throughout this movie). It’s the kind of movie that somehow encompasses everything at once - it’s personal and impossibly grand, urgent yet patient, ornate yet skeletal. Whatever you are looking for, you will find it in Moonlight, as raw and tender and brutal and sweet a depiction of love and masculinity as you will ever encounter.

Watch if you’re in the mood for: A modern classic, nuanced narrative, something to think about for a while.

But I’m a Cheerleader (Peacock) came out in 1999 to a world that simply wasn’t prepared for its blend of slapstick humor, edgy subject matter and over-the-top set design. But time, thankfully, has looked kindly on this cult classic, a satirical skewering of gay conversion camps with plenty of heart. Aside from serving as a launching point for the careers of actors like Natasha Lyonne, Melanie Lynskey, and Clea Duvall, the film is a campy, entertaining romp, touching on difficult and painful subjects yet never losing its sense of fun. It’s visually ludicrous, with pastel hues all over the place and silly, silly sets.

Watch if you’re in the mood for: RU PAUL IS IN THIS MOVIE.

The Binge:

Black Mirror, an anthology series exploring the dystopian possibilities of technological development, tends to traffic in brutalist, dark subject matter (the first ever episode involves the Prime Minister of England having televised sex with a pig). But through the darkness, the occasional moment of sweetness shines through, and such is the case with San Junipero (Netflix, Episode 4 of Season 3 of Black Mirror), a wildly optimistic and passionate tale of two women finding each other in an idyllic beach town. As the narrative veers towards the existential, the heart of the tale remains firmly grounded by the easy chemistry between the two leads. It’s a remarkable feat of storytelling, cramming what could easily be a movie into an hour of television without ever feeling rushed. San Junipero is Black Mirror at its best, thought-provoking and moving in equal measure.

Watch if you’re in the mood for: Layered storytelling, great outfits, light sci-fi.

The Tune:

I know it’s not the Fourth of July quite yet, but I’ve been thinking a lot about this song recently. Meg Duffy is a very creative guitarist, and their chord progression here is just the right amount of unexpected, moving from change to change with an unhurried confidence. The lyrics are similarly captivating, sparse yet perfectly phrased. And in its three-minute runtime, it never stops evolving, transitioning energy levels with easy grace. I’ve introduced it to a few of my closest friends since I first heard it, and each of them asked me to play it again immediately after hearing it once - it’s the kind of song that doesn’t let go, an emotive, textured, rich piece of music you won’t be able to stop listening to.

Stay safe, everyone, and keep fighting. I’ll see you next week.

Love,

Nick