Lew Gifford and Paul Kim | Queerdom / 1978 [animated short]

something in the air

by Douglas Messerli

 

Lew Gifford and Paul Kim (directors) Queerdom / 1978 [animated short]

Korean-American Paul Kim and Lew Gifford created their own animation company, working on numerous commercials and on School House Rock, the animated series that began in 1973.

    Their 1978 film Queerdom is a truly outrageous gay fantasy where one day a handsome, muscular man with a wife and children wakes up to find he’s feeling rather strange. His head is spinning and he feels dizzy. The day is no different from any other day, but he can’t quite determine what it might be.

    He looks out the window and finds it to me a perfect day, but still he feels somewhat strange. “What was this mad sensation that came over me?” Indeed, he feels a little queer  today.

    But it is time to catch the bus to work. He quickly puts on his tie and rushes off, lifting the bus-stop sign itself and even carrying it off for a moment into the bus as if to prove he was a he-man. He quickly returns it to its proper place before the bus speeds off.

    At work, his colleagues greet him quite normally, “saying good morning in their usually normal way,” yet something feels different, and at that very moment his boss enters his office to tell him “I love you.” 

    Our hero is quite startled to hear such words from another man. He feels funny. A man never said he loved me before, it was only women. Pulling out a girlie magazine as if to prove his heterosexual interests, he ponders that such words are not usually spoken to a man. Yet in the middle of the magazine, the centerfold contains a full pull-out of his boss. And he recognizes, that something strange and weird has happened: “I liked it.” 

     The boss tells him to meet him to lunch that afternoon. “I asked him why?” And once again the boss replies: “I love you.”

    “Why did he stay he loved me? What would my wife say, and my kids when they found out their father was a…HOMOsexual?”

    So what if I am a homosexual, our hero ponders. That doesn’t mean I should be rejected from society. “Some people like women, and other people like men,” he declares in a slightly hysterical voice. “Just because I happen to like a man doesn’t mean I should be rejected like that.”

    However, he admits, in a now much calmer voice, he not only likes the idea, but loves the idea. As the time for lunch comes, the boss again comes by, grabs him by the arm, and repeats: “I love you.”

     Why did he say it again, he wonders, realizing that he’s beginning to “like this man.” “The man began to appeal to me.” The boss pushes him and his swivel chair in to the elevator and they are off the a truly underground Chinese restaurant, Mama Fugami’s, where they are greeted by Mama, who he suddenly realizes is not a woman, but a man. In fact, there are only men in this restaurant. “Today I love men, and I don’t know why. Why should I love men? Oh well, we ate lunch and listened to some crazy music (the bongo drums and jazz clarinet get louder).”

      As they leave the restaurant the boss again tells him he loves him. “Yes, it was a mad, crazy feeling being a homosexual. It was fascinating,” he observes as his face suddenly becomes textured in variously different patterns. 

    The boss now takes him home to his apartment filled with strange art of naked men and…well actually filled with naked men, naked men dancing, naked men playing.

    Suddenly, the boss says something different: “Let’s go to bed, baby.” All the other men leave, giggling on their way out.

     Delighted with being thought of as “grand,” our hero is so completely delighted that he grows a head piece of dangling penises, that eventually attach to his entire body. His enchanted feelings are now most definitely queer as he’s on his way to buy a bowsneck, tennis shows, a pair of tight denim pants and walk down Sixth Avenue. “O, I love queerdom.” And off he trots down a lane with his short statured boss, the catching a ride on the moon—or is it the morning sun?

       Throughout the credits we hear only the sounds of the sexual moans and groans.

     Obviously, this isn’t an experience that suddenly comes over a man in a single day, but I’ll give creators Kim and Gifford the benefit of the doubt by arguing that for a closeted man in a marriage with kids, coming out may seem like a sudden overwhelming experience of a single day in his life. The creators suggest through their continual markers of sunsets and sunrises that, in fact, this all takes place over a period of time.

     Similarly, our rumbustious hero’s constant associations of his new gay feelings with being cartoonish perceived as having to do with becoming a woman, are again those of a man who has pretended he was straight for so long that he cannot explain his feelings except through standard gender binaries.

      I wish I knew who voiced the central characters, particularly our new joyous queer, who sometimes, in his New York accent, seems to be alternating the voices of Joe Friday of the 1950s TV series Dagnet and Dudley Do-Right, the Canadian Mountie who appeared on The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle and Friends.

 

Los Angeles, October 30, 2025

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (October 2025).

 

 

 

Kyle Jumayne Francisco | Gulis (Lines) / 2019

reconnecting

by Douglas Messerli

 

Kyle Jumayne Francisco (screenwriter and director) Gulis (Lines) / 2019 [8 minutes]

 

Andrei (Jal Galang), a pediatric nurse, and his father (Menggie Cobarrubias) are removed and distant from one another, particularly since the boy’s mother and the father’s wife has recently died.

     We have no idea of the sexual identity of the young nurse, but he has ordered up a kit to check on his HIV status, so we might guess that he’s gay. Alas, the blood test is positive.

      After a day of hardly sharing a word, the two are seated together on their couch, the father shining his shoes when Andrei, in tears, reports to his father that he is HIV positive

     The father, just as I did, wonders why Andrei hasn’t visited a clinic for a more reliable report, for which the boy has no answer. But soon after, the father stands and leaves the room, Andrei now fully engulphed in tears. The father merely brings him a glass of water and invites him to their dinner table. As he begins to serve up their food, he tells his son that if a clinic is open that evening, they’ll visit; otherwise, he’ll take off work and visit it the next morning. They are in this together, he asserts, and we will be there for his son as he needs him.

      At least in this short film by Filipino director Kyle Francisco, father and son are brought together with the results of the test, and it is clear that Andrei will not have face the shame of being HIV-positive nor fight for his health alone.

 

Los Angeles, October 20, 2023

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (October 2023).

Giorgio Volpe | StandBy: l’attesa / 2018

 removal

by Douglas Messerli

 

Giorgio Volpe (screenwriter and director) StandBy: l’attesa / 2018 [15 minutes]

 

Italian director Giorgio Volpe’s approach to his subject is through the eyes of a true female busybody, Anita (Camilla Bianchini) visiting, along with several others, a hospital, where she with the others are waiting results. As if she were a waiting room detective of sorts, she attempts to analyze and pinpoint the reasons why each of the individuals in the room are visiting the hospital and what their relationships are to each other.

     She quickly answers to her satisfaction the reasons why a father and mother are visiting the doctor with their small son; and, although she is bit confused by the relationship of an older man with a young hard-looking woman, she seems disinterested in a diagnosis. She is even more intrigued by a handsome young man who seems nervous as he waits for his report, but not too nervous to note the glance of another young man. He seems in a hurry to get back to office to have a meeting which may help him achieve a more prestigious position in the office. On the phone he reports his name to be Simone Alarti (Nicola Paduano). Accordingly, she is convinced she was absolutely right in her analysis.

      The second young man, Filippo Volpe (Tony Scarfi), she believes is a hypochondriac, who can’t wait to get the test results and leave. She suddenly turns to him, announcing: “His name’s Simone Alarti. He’s very cute.” Providing him with a bit of chocolate, she introduces herself and Filippo responds in like. She quickly guesses his age, 25, as he’s called up for his results.

       As he leaves, he encounters her again and she provides him, quite amazingly, with Simone’s cellphone number as well as her own. At home, Filippo calls up the man he made eye contact with at the hospital, but Simone does not remember him; nonetheless they make an appointment to meet up.

       They have coffee and truly seem to enjoy one another, talking about a shared love of art (Simone loves Van Gough) as Simone walks Filippo back to his apartment.

       They meet again for a lovely dinner. They go on long walks. They join one another for a Henri Cartier-Bresson exhibition. They kiss, and even cuddle-up at home to an old movie, stuffing one another’s mouths with nuts.

       But in the midst of this, Simone sees a large white pill being hand-fed to him by Filippo, and suddenly it is that time in the film for the long-expected transition, as Simone puts it, “Filippo, I have to tell you something.”

       As we have long guessed, he is HIV-positive, his reason, so very misdiagnosed by Anita, for having been in that hospital waiting room. The hypochondriac who has transformed his regular visit from angst into a magical love affair has come up against the wall he has so long feared. But instead of escaping, he hugs Simone close with intense affection and love.

      The next morning at the breakfast table Simone brings up the idea of having expectations in life. But Filippo, immediately knowing where Simone is going, argues that his expectation is “I’d like to enjoy this deep connection with you as long as possible.” Yet they argue about the risk, Simone fearing more than Filippo suddenly about how it might change his new lover’s entire life.

    Simone argues he has a death sentence on his head and does not want to extend that to Filippo. Clearly Combivir has not resolved his fears. Even Filippo perceives that the notion of death sentence should be reconceived as a “chronical infection.”

     But Simone’s fears leads to their breakup. Clearly, however, they have kept in close touch, as Simone suddenly breaks into Filippo’s room to announce that he’s won “the Tender,” an Italian procurement, a public financial position which in this case evidently involves travel.

   We soon see Simone calling Filippo to congratulate him on passing his exams. Yet we know something is still amiss when Simone suggests that because of their bad connection they should talk again tomorrow. He clearly is delaying bad news.

      If Filippo hasn’t figured it out, we certainly have come to realize that because of Simone’s fears he has determined not to return from wherever he has gone. He has put himself entirely into his new work, admitting he’s been a coward for not having explained his intentions, but feeling that through his love he is protecting Filippo. So much for the possibility of a return to normal life through pills in the era of AIDS after AIDS!

      Filippo meets up with Anita, the prognosticator of the first scene of this film, to whom he explains: “Time doesn’t erase memories. Time just puts them on standby mode.” In short, he too has been so affected by AIDS that his life has been transformed into an endless world of waiting.

 

Los Angeles, October 22, 2023

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (October 2023).

Sean Devaney | Bare / 2012

remembrance

by Douglas Messerli

 

Brandt Miller (screenplay), Sean Devaney (director) Bare / 2012 [8 minutes]

 

Sean Devaney’s 2012 film takes us back briefly with the terrible plague years of US LGBTQ culture. A young man (played by Chris Damon), not of that era, but a more recent HIV-status individual contemplates the situation after having had wonderful sex as a bottom for a man who has not used a condom and, like so many over the decades, is misinformed and mislead about his sexual actions. 

    As a “top” (the one who fucks the other) the character played by Jonathan Hinman presumes he is not prone to infection. His comments send Damon’s character into a not so very pleasant series of memory associations which take him through his early years after moving to “the city” when an open sexual encounter resulted in his infection.

     Although he now just needs to take his medications daily—after all HIV-infected individuals survive these days—as director Devaney attempts to remind us, the “plague” nonetheless is still with us.

     The trouble with this dark Proustian short film is its paucity of images. Obviously shot on a low budget, it keeps taking us back into the same bar, the same downstairs sexual encounter and another pick-up image in a park or woods. And frankly, after a while, despite its good intentions, the film is rendered, accordingly, into a rather boring recital of the past that has led him to the good sex bed of the moment.

      Gay men—and all sexually active human beings—should be reminded again and again that COVID is not the only disease out there that continues to kill off thousands each year, AIDS unlike COVID affecting young men and women more often than the elderly. The subject may seem passé and utterly boring to younger generations; but that it should remain on their minds and not left to be forgotten is clear to all intelligent individuals. All the more reason, however, to present it within the structure of more compelling visual narratives than Devaney has provided in his work.

 

Los Angeles, October 14, 2022

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (October 2022).

 

 

 

 

Ian Wolfley | Bug Chaser / 2012

risk

by Douglas Messerli

 

Ian Wolfley (screenwriter and director) Bug Chaser / 2012 [20 minutes]

 

This little 2012 “horror film,” I must admit, originally made me quite angry! The story of a young gay couple arriving at an “expensive condo” (one of the characters brags about just how expensive his condo is) to engage in sultry gay sex is certainly an “attractive” beginning. The new boys, Nathan (Brenden Gregory) and Ryan (James M. Arthur) seem a good match, ready for a hot night in bed. But then, as they begin ripping clothes off of each other’s body, Nathan observes something unusual: a spot on Ryan’s pants; asking “What’s this?” his friend replying that it must be “cum.” But Nathan it doesn’t look like cum, “It looks kind of like a butterfly.” Both ignore it, however, as the smallest and most insignificant of signs; besides it’s on Ryan’s pants, not his cock.

     Soon after, however, Ryan discovers a far greater problem when he goes to fuck Nathan, a significant growth in his anus, which Nathan, after quickly inspecting it, has never before noticed. All sexual contract is immediately suspended as Nathan returns back to his ramshackle apartment, attempting to get a better look at his growth, which seems to be expanding by the moment. First, he attempts to lance it, without success. He reads up about such growths on the internet: possibly a wart. He drinks heavily, attempts to sleep. He awakens in a sweat and quickly grows physically ill, whether from the alcohol he’s been consuming or the growth, we can’t tell.

      If nothing else, one has to give high praise for actor Gregory’s commitment to the role, which keeps him mostly naked with deep inspection in a varied-colored growth in his ass, to which Wolfley’s camera serves as endless voyeur.

      Finally, Nathan calls up Ian (played by Wolfley himself) who works as a nurse and obviously is ready to stop over and have sex with Nathan anytime he’s invited. But Nathan obviously wants only to have him take a look at the growth, the likes of which Ian has never before witnessed. He suggests his friend immediately visit the emergency room or that he make an appointment with a doctor. When Nathan admits that he hasn’t any insurance and little cash, Ian even offers to pay for it. Nathan inexplicably rejects the offer and Ian leaves, as Nathan, taking up a scissors, begins the horrific process of attempting to cut it away by himself.

      Surely this is a kind of horror film, a real-life imposter film ripped out of the pages of the last three decades of the 20th century. Men with AIDS found revealing signs crop up daily across their bodies, and had to determine how to approach them. Doctors, particularly, in the early years were not as helpful or benign as one might hope. And of the course the death sentence of doctoral pronouncement was not something many young men, in the prime of their lives, easily sought out.

      So almost until the very end of the film, I was fairly impressed, eager to discover what happens when one imagines, fruitlessly, that one can take care of such things by themselves.

      Flashback to the couple in bed, the spot on Ryan’s pants, as the couple resume their sexual intercourse with a giggle over their momentary fears.

      I was angry! No one of my generation could possibly have made light of such a horrific situation. No one younger than 23 could have suggested, well I’m glad that’s over, as this movie seemed to imply.

      I quickly discovered, however, that my peeve was misplaced. Wolfley, in a 2013 interview on the internet blog HorrorNews.Net recounts that he made this movie after working closely with a group of filmmakers who called themselves the “HIV Story Project,” working on a series of shorts about HIV and AIDS:

      

“I’ve been making short movies for about ten years now. When I moved to San Francisco I got lucky and I met a group of film makers that called themselves the HIV Story Project and their goal was to make a feature length film comprised of a series of shorts where we got different directors and got them together with someone who had HIV or AIDS or was a caregiver with a compelling story to tell. Then they would collaborate on a short film together. I was actually volunteering for them but I convinced the producer that he should let me help them and I became an associate producer on that project.”

 

The interviewer also describes that his daughter clued him in to what the title really meant, at least in urban parlance: “a person attempting to acquire HIV, regularly having sex with unprotected partners.” And that definition obviously changes everything. The horror of the scene we’ve just experienced is an overstated possibility of what Nathan and/or Ryan are perhaps personally allowing to occur to their own bodies.

      Wolfley suggests as much in his comments in that 2013 interview:

 

“IW: That makes total sense & I totally hear where you’re coming from. I called it Bug Chaser and it seems that most people think it’s literally about a person who’s chasing bugs around. My intention was for the title to be much more allegorical; the rationale of these people is that it’s going to happen anyway so they just want to get it over with. What I was trying to do is play with the idea of risk. Nathan has this horrible fantasy trip & at the end he has the opportunity to continue doing what he’s going to do or as we see it’s possible that it can end very badly. So the question becomes “Is he going to do it or not”? And he still decides to do it. It’s more about the times that we do things that we know are going to end up badly and do it anyway.”

 

     One commentator from The Bay Area Reporter suggested that he had laughed his way through the heart of the movie, and expected his viewers would do the same. But not I. And I don’t think that was Wolfley’s intent. It was not some paranoid fantasy that Nathan was having in an age where we now recognize that AIDS can be controlled if not cured. It was a real horror story, a very frightening one to which the risk he takes might have truly taken him.

 

Los Angeles, October 15, 2022

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (October 2022).

Bill Mullan | Disclosure / 2012

revelations

by Douglas Messerli

 

Bill Mullan (screenwriter and director) Disclosure / 2012 [22 minutes]

 

An attractive gay couple, Tyler (Bryan Fox) and Ryan (Derek Viveiros) have been together for two years now, and are considering adopting a child. Indeed, as the film begins with Tyler looking somewhat distracted, Ryan arrives home with several packages, including a new stuffed toy for their impending child.

     But Tyler seems moody, wondering aloud “What if they don’t think I’ll make a good dad?” Ryan reassures him that they’ll love him, and he’ll be the perfect father. Tyler continues to cook the meal. But after eating admits that he has something to share with his lover.

     The shock, accordingly comes early in this 22-minute film, as Tyler reveals that he is not only HIV-positive but that he has known about it for five years.

      Bill Mullan’s film Disclosure (2012) doesn’t try to sidestep the situation, immediately displaying Ryan’s anger, his disbelief that his companion has been so cowardly that he has not found it possible to tell him before, as well as his terror for having endangered his own life.

       Tyler assures him that he has made sure that Ryan has been safe, meaning presumably that he has always worn condoms when fucking his partner. And he explains, when Ryan asks who else he has told, that everyone who has told has left him, and he didn’t want to chance that happening again being so very much in love.

       Tyler’s parents, moreover, apparently won’t speak to him, and when he attempts to call home soon after to tell them the situation, his mother refuses to even have a substantial conversation.

       So too is he given the cold shoulder by his lover, who immediately schedules an appointment with his doctor to be tested for AIDS. Ryan also suggests that it is Tyler who must move out. Obviously, his hurt is deep and justified, and there is no easy resolve for the years of Tyler’s silence.

      Yet, once he has seemingly severed himself from his companion, things subtly shift in this intelligent film. At his long-time family doctor’s office, when he explains he would like an AIDS test, Dr. Radlciff (Bobby Reed) immediately replies that could get such a test in any local clinic. But when Ryan explains he wants it immediately at his doctor’s office, the elderly gentlemen curtly arranges for the test but suggests that his schedule has now gotten so very filled that he plans to arrange for Ryan in the future to see another colleague.

       With his doctor’s refusal to be further involved with anything to do with AIDS or homosexuals, Ryan has encountered his first major sign of rejection, perhaps in his life.

       Depressed, he stops by a local gay bar, starring into space while moodily drinking. Another young man buys him a drink, moving in to talk by using the obvious come-on that Ryan looks like he could use another drink and it appears he needs someone to talk to.

       Although Ryan recognizes the ploy, he obviously is in need of company, perhaps seeing the opportunity to have sex with another man as the beginning of his punishment to his lying lover. In the car, however, as the stranger (Brian Lloyd) begin to kiss Ryan, the latter reluctantly moving forward with the foreplay before backing off, explains that he can’t go through with it.

     When the stranger demands to know why, Ryan admits that he’s HIV-positive—which we must recognize is a kind of lie that stands as a mirror-image of Tyler’s lie to him—his would be partner quickly pulling away before suddenly turning on the driver and severely beating him before exiting the auto.

       Ryan returns to the apartment to observe Tyler laid out on the bed in deep despair, asking only, upon witnessing his face, what happened to him. Again Ryan lies with an odd half-truth: “I got into a fight.”

       But as he sees his lover devastated by his having also abandoned him, he lies down beside him, demanding further explanation of how he acquired the condition that leads to AIDS.

        It appears that after a night a heavy drinking with friends, he almost blacked-out, his friends allowing him to leave with an utter stranger, only to wake up in a strange hotel room alone in bed.

     A few months later, he began to get sick, discovering that he had HIV. When he told his current lover, he immediately left. And now, after finding someone he truly loves, Tyler was terrified that such events would be repeated.

       This “explanation” is perhaps the film’s one major flaw. In attempting to ameliorate the situation the script has turned Tyler into a kind of innocent, someone who was abused instead of simply an ordinary gay man who become HIV-positive for having open sex. Had Tyler not been totally drunken, would Ryan’s empathetic reaction to the situation been any different? Or, more importantly, should it be?  He has, after all, in just a few hours come to realize what happens to those who have contracted the dread disease, often shunned and beaten by those they might have previously trusted.

        Unfortunately, but more understandably, the script has Ryan receiving a call from the doctors soon after reporting that he is HIV-negative. At least there will be someone there to nurse Tyler if he becomes ill again. For Ryan has found a way to forgive his companion as the two fall to sleep in one another’s arms. Tyler’s admission of the facts is far more than a mere “disclosure,” but a startling revelation of how many men and women, homosexual and heterosexual, were and still are treated after acquiring the immunodeficiency virus.

     When he wakes up, Ryan finds Tyler missing. But soon encounters him in the next room with the nephew who, as the dialogue has told us earlier in the work, would be visiting for the day. Watching his lover entertaining his young nephew, Ryan realizes that indeed Tyler would make a good father.

    The film, alas, does not explore the future consequences that both must face, the fact, for instance, that perhaps it would be best, given Tyler’s possible early death, that they give up their dream of adopting a child. Nor does it explain that Ryan’s love in the future will be sorely tried if he will be forced to watch the man he loves slowly die.

     By 2012, however, there drugs that were making significant differences in that future, and we hope for the best. One can only appreciate that Mullan’s film was still considering these issues at such a late date,* and attended to them with such honesty and compassion.

 

*In 2011, the year Mullan was perhaps writing this script, the World Health Organization estimated that 1.7 million people had died of AIDS-related causes, with a total of 34.2 million people infected.

 

Los Angeles, April 22, 2022

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (April 2022).

Douglas Messerli | AIDS after AIDS [Introduction]

aids after aids

by Douglas Messerli

 

One might have thought that with the public announcements beginning in 1997 when the first approved combination of anti-HIV drugs came onto the market as Combivir, and even more importantly after the development in 2010 of PrEP and Truvada which lower the risk of each becoming HIV-positive, that, as many doctors announced at the time, there should no longer be the general fear of, or even more importantly, the stigma that had been attached to individuals who found themselves HIV-positive or were suffering from AIDS.

    But clearly that didn’t happen. Many young males and females in Western countries where the medicines were easily obtained continued to suffer over the possibility that their sexual lives had led to disease and suffering.

     In many countries, moreover, these drugs were not, and still are not, readily available, and even when they are, young HIV-positive individuals cannot afford them or do not yet fully comprehend how they might change their lives. Furthermore, with Combivir there are still side effects for some patients, although there are now at least a dozen antiretroviral drugs on the market.

      Although there has been remarkable progress since the first reports of young men becoming ill in New York and California in 1981, HIV-positive results and AIDS has not disappeared and to many represent a terrifying prognosis.

     As the films I’ve chosen below reveal, the horror of AIDS and being HIV-positive still very much continued to haunt the minds of gay film makers and individuals long after the new drugs were approved. And, more importantly, becoming HIV-positive often revealed outside sexual activity for individuals in marriages and close relationships that helped to destroy those situations. As I suggest, at one point, medical information became something close to the police in the days of closeted gays, intruding upon their lives and revealing their own indiscretions and sexual behavior.

      As director Matthew Puccini, the director of one of the best of these films, described the situation, discovering that one may be HIV-positive was still a “scare.” As he observed in Huffington Post:

 

“A close friend and I both had HIV scares last summer. I remember sitting in the cramped waiting room at the Gay Men’s Health Crisis in midtown Manhattan, with my mind racing through all of these crazy hypotheticals, all these conversations I was dreading having to have. It felt important to make something that reflected our experience [and] showed the HIV screening process in a detailed, contemporary light.”

 

    And AIDS, of course, has not disappeared. As I note in one footnote, in 2011, the date of one of these short films, The World Health Organization estimated that 1.7 million people had died of AIDS-related causes, with a total of 34.2 million people infected.

    I describe the six films I have selected—Bill Mullan’s Disclosure (2012), Ian Wolfley’s Bug Chaser (2012), Sean Devaney’s Bare (2012), Matthew Puccini’s The Mess He Made (2017), Giorgio Volpe’s StandBy: l’attesa (2018), and Kyle Jumayne Francisco’s Gulis (Lines) (2019)— as the “Five R’s,” since quite coincidentally, over a period of several years, I had unconsciously titled each of these essays with a single word beginning with “R,” without even imagining I might someday wish to join them together under a shared theme: “Revelations,”  “Risk,” “Remembrance,” “Removal,” “Reckoning,” and “Reconnecting.”

 

Los Angeles, October 30, 2025

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema (October 2025).