It was a rebellion, it was an uprising, it was a civil rights disobedience—
it wasn’t no damn riot. ~ Stormé DeLarverie
Siren: Survive the Island. Imagine our surprise and absolute delight when we, thanks to TQY comrade Laurel, stumbled into the incredible entirely woman-centered world of Siren, a South Korean production that brings together 24 women, organized into six groups of four women each based on their badass professions: Firefighter, Stunt, Guard, Athlete, Police (ACAB), and Soldier (yikes). The teams arduously trek through a mudflat to get to an island in order to participate in a complex survival competition game that is essentially an elaborate and intense capture-the-flag situation. These women (many of whom made our gaydars go off and heart eyes pop) work in their teams to best the others. We never before have seen so many different types of women neutrally portrayed as smart, strong, strategic, funny, scary, supportive, sweet, and extremely badass. The intense-yet-fun show has nothing to do with romantic interests, never has them even remotely discuss any man, and doesn’t pit them against each other in gross women-backstabbing-women friendship ways (only once or twice do you worry that someone might literally stab another, but in a kinda cool way). And while the show is set up around neoliberal capitalism’s favorite “competition-for-survival” (and one of the teams takes that terrifyingly seriously), ultimately the teams that prevail are shown to quickly organize around solidarity, collaboration, trust, generosity, and camaraderie. We loved this show, which probably shouldn’t have been a surprise since Netflix gave it an algorithmic ‘match score’ of 98% for us—sometimes we can’t be too bothered by the creepiness of technology when “they” read us just *so*.
ÁTTA by Sigur Rós. Almost out of nowhere this week, Sigur Rós released their first new album in a decade. You know how couples have art (be it music, movies, paintings, books, etc.) that holds a deeper “partnership” resonance because of a shared love, meaning, or experience? Well, Sigur Rós has been a part of our relationship since day one. H introduced the band to A on the very first gifted mixtape (well, CD if we’re being precise—and yes, we exchanged mix CDs for about a decade until we lost having a disc drive in our computers—mix tapes are a Gen X love language and absolutely critical to courtship)... and then one of our best shared concert experiences was when A surprised H with tickets to see them on October 6, 2008 at Portland’s Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall—a truly magical night amongst some special nights as we wooed each other. We also spent about a decade of our life listening to Sigur Rós every single night as we drifted off to sleep. Sigur has always captured a majestical, otherworldly sense of wonder and queer possibility, which we need more of right now.
Stormé: The Lady of the Jewel Box (1987) by Michelle Parkerson. We’ve already enthusiastically recommended that everyone check out what the Criterion Channel has curated for Pride month. (We’ll get into some of our thoughts on ‘Pride month’ soon enough.) Anyways, this documentary by Parkerson—featured as one of the 19 films in the Masc collection curated by Jenni Olson and Caden Mark Gardner—is a highlight that we want to take a moment to share because of how special it felt to watch the infamous Stormé DeLarverie reminisce, interact, and perform. It was once widely circulated that Stormé threw the first punch that instigated the Stonewall uprising (as with all movements, there’s a rhizomatic connection between movements, people, and social progress—which really is a network of activities and not a solitary action). Regardless, Stormé was a badass and we owe so much to Stormé and all the other queer elders who lived loud and proud during a very different time for the queer community. Really, this write-up is both to encourage everyone to watch this short doc and to speak to the importance of capturing and preserving history and, thus, ensuring future access to our collective past—especially since most of our history is forgotten or silenced. We desperately need to share the memories and histories of our queer elders through documentaries, in-depth profiles, ephemera, and/or oral histories. Archival work is vital to queer history, of which Stormé is one incredible part.
On his new album of folk songs and/or duets, Folkocracy, the incomparable Rufus Wainwright has reworked one of his best songs, “Going to a Town,” by featuring the incomparable vocals of ANOHNI, who also has a beautiful new song out with the Johnsons, “Sliver of Ice.” The new version of “Going to a Town,” embedded below, gives us a win-win situation with a lovely new version of a timeless song by two of our queer musician greats. “I’m so tired of you, America”—indeed.
Les Parapluies de Cherbourg / The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964) by Jacques Demy. We usually say we don’t like “straight” romance films, but we have to admit there’s an exception or three. We especially love romances in which the straight star-crossed lovers do not live happily ever after and return to them again and again—such as (spoiler!) this gem Cherbourg and the stellar In the Mood for Love (2000). Maybe it is because our queer lens has been skewed by all of the unhappy cinematic queer endings we’ve endured, but we have realized that most of the straight romances we love have endings conventionally considered “unhappy” while still being just a little hopeful and just wistful enough—our fave Harold and Maude is certainly another perfect example. Anyways, back to Cherbourg and Demy’s all-musical, color explosion feast for our ears and eyes…
Even though the romance between Catherine Deneuve’s and Nino Castelnuovo’s characters has a bittersweet ending, this Demy-written story reads, to us, as a secret ode to his queerness. The story ultimately shows that we all are capable of finding a deep love, albeit a different love, with more than one person. In his own life, Demy, a bisexual, deeply loved Agnès Varda, the queen of the French New Wave, with whom he was married from 1962 until his death from AIDS-related complications in 1990. In those same years, Demy also found love and life with others. It’s not a stretch to see his story, and thus to find universal truths of love and choice and loss and contentedness, in The Umbrellas of Cherbourg.
Musician Arlo Parks. Get ready to bop along to the syrupy-sweet vocals and groovy pop tracks of Arlo Parks, an English singer, songwriter, and poet. But, first, before you do, drop into Arlo’s office hours and get Music Schooled by this kid (not to be patronizing, but c’mon, forgive us: she was born in 2000) in her stop at Amoeba Records “What’s In My Bag?” Once you absorb Arlo’s fantastic knowledge and range in musical taste (also seen in some of her covers, like this stark-yet-full cover of “Creep” and this "Fake Plastic Trees" cover with Phoebe Bridgers), you’ll have an even greater appreciation for her songs. “Devotion” has 90s grunge-pop vibes, especially harkening that era with the band-in-the-elevator video. “Weightless” and “Blades” do what all good pop songs do: underlay a rhythmic beat under catchy lyrics that are sharply delivered. And the queer-love lyrics in the light romp “Pegasus” will melt even the most jaded Gen X heart. It’s summer here, so we are getting our queer bop on—join us, people.