Love In A Hopeless Place

Did you know Ellen Page and Kate Mara are in a movie together about love and execution and smoochies? Because they are. It’s called “My Days of Mercy” and it seems intense. Like, life or death intense. Like let’s make a movie about the death penalty and the ethicality of state-sponsored murder, but also with some lesbian love thrown in.

Obviously, I plan to watch this because it has ladies being gay and all. It has great queer DNA what with Ellen and is being produced by Christina Vachon’s Killer Films (“Go Fish,” “Boys Don’t Cry,” “Hedwig and the Angry Inch,” “Carol”). And Kate Mara is Rooney Mara’s older sister – so playing gay ladies on screen is obviously a hereditary trait. Obviously.

You may recall Ellen and Kate’s previous onscreen work, “Tiny Detective,” which had more pantsuits but less kissing.



So, thoughts? The good news is – at least based on their previous “Tiny Detective” work – Ellen and Kate seem to have more chemistry than Ellen and Julianne Moore had in “Freeheld.” Bless their hearts, they sure tried. But here’s hoping Lucy and Mercy find love in a hopeless place.

She's Like The Wind

Sure, it’s still 51 days until Cersei, Daenerys, Arya, Sansa, Brienne and some zombie dude with a beard return for one last dragony hurrah. Still, no matter how much I watch “Game of Thrones,” it’s still a little strange to see Lena Headey as Cersei. I mean, there’s the hair/turnip. And then there’s the whole being evil business. And also the super serious demeanor, coupled with the evilness and the turnip wig.

But as a longtime fan of Lena Headey, it’s always jarring to read interviews where the interviewer clearly doesn’t realize what a tremendously delightful goofball she actually is beforehand. She is, basically, the anti-Cersei. Also other interviewers also never ask her all-important questions about “Imagine Me & You” because other interviewers clearly aren’t queer women and don’t know what really matters.

She did a quick Q&A with Vulture last week, and was her normal tremendously goofball self. Key takeaways:

She calls her Cersei wig “The Turnip” and says she fucking wearing it and “can’t wait to get rid of her.”

If she was a pro-wrestler she’d call herself the Choo-Choo the Train and her power would be to knock down her competition with her farts. I am not kidding, her farts.

“You pretend to pull the thing, and you go “whoo whoo!” On a train, then there’d be smoke or steam or something puffing out of the top, but instead it’s a fart! Wouldn’t even have to touch my opponents and they’d already be down.”

Geez, Lena. No GoT final season spoilers, OK? Rude! Anyway, like I was saying, a delightful goofball.

p.s. Did you know she is in a movie with The Rock? Yeah, neither did I.

Bats of Prey

Well, this is some deliciously gay chocolate-and-peanut butter casting. You know, two gay things that are even gayer together. Folks excited about the new, standalone “Batwoman” series on the CW have one more reason to squeal. First, they cast Ruby Rose as literal social justice warrior Kate Kane/Batwoman. And now they have cast Rachel Skarsten as her lead supervillain, Alice.

According to Deadline, Alice’s character is Batwoman’s Joker and the leader of her so-called Wonderland Gang. She is described as, “Swinging unpredictably between maniacal and charming, Alice has made it her mission to undermine Gotham’s sense of security.”

You may remember Rachel from all your hot, steamy Valkubus daydreams. Or, you know, her role as the badass bisexual valkyrie Tamsin on “Lost Girl.”

The addition is a particularly nice touch because Rachel got one of her first big breaks playing Dinah Lance/The Black Canary on “Birds of Prey.” The series aired on the CW for one season from 2002 to 2003.

Look, I don’t want to mean here, but is it OK to root for the villain just this once? Go get’em, Tam-Tam Alice.

Happy Lady President's Day

Today is President’s Day, a national holiday in the United States to honor the first man to ever serve as our president and then the subsequent 43 men (and one orange trash bag) who have served in the role since the country was founded in 1776. But screw those dudes. Let’s celebrate the ladies instead. The women who would, undoubtedly, do a far (far, far, far, far) superior job to the pathetic excuse for a human being residing in the White House right now. Happy we should have really had a female president by now President’s Day.

My Weekend Killer

GIVE IT TO ME. GIVE IT TO ME NOW. Words cannot adequately harness how fucking excited I am about the second season of “Killing Eve.” As soon as the creepy, ethereal “Addicted to Love” cover in this trailer started, I was instantly transported back to the show’s intoxicating aesthetic. The cat-and-mouse, lust-and-loathe obsession that these two have for each other is like nothing else on television right now. Sure, the world is garbage and our “president” is declaring fake emergencies for his racist vanity projects. But we have Eve and Villanelle and really large kitchen knives and the delicious visual paraphrasing of “love makes you do the wacky” to help us get through the day. And at least until April 7, may that be enough. Happy killer weekend, all.

Actually Beautiful

Happy Valentine’s Day, kittens. No matter your relationship status, I hope you take the opportunity today to practice the most important kind of love you can give – and that’s to love yourself. Yes, I know, it may sound trite. But if we were all kinder to ourselves, it would go a long way toward being more kind to each other. Now, this is not that superficial, narcissistic kind of kindness. This is the deeper kindness. The kindness that allows us to forgive our imperfections and those in others. The kindness from which all empathy flows. Because - in the words of Angela Chase - when you look really closely, people are so strange and so complicated that they’re actually beautiful. Definitely even you.

Best Gals

Happy Galentine’s Day, Kittens. Grab your best gals and celebrate in a way that would make Leslie Knope proud. The more waffles, the better.

Doll Parts

One of the biggest questions of our time is, of course, what to watch on Netflix. So you’ve already torn through “Sex Education” (I mean, you did already, right?) and enjoyed the heck out of “Derry Girls” (we haven’t talked abut it, but quite the delight) and, of course, GBBO (soothe me, lovely British people cooking things). But what next? Dear God, what next.

Well, might I suggest “Russian Doll?” You’ve probably already heard it’s good – but goodness is it good. And – despite having a basic premise we’ve all seen before – the Netflix series still feels utterly original with an uncanny knack for the unexpected. Plus, like some of the best existentially inclined shows of this time like “The Good Place,” it emphasizes the importance of learning from and being kind to one another as key to surviving the hellscape of everyday existence.

But what I think I enjoyed the most about “Russian Doll” is how incredibly specific it feels both to New York and Natasha Lyonne’s inimitable talents. It’s also the perfect binge show because, trust me, you will not want to stop watching. In fact, you’ll feel compelled to keep watching. The inherent mystery of being trapped in a seemingly unending loop between life and death, and restarting after each inevitable demise in the exact same spot, is irresistible. Still, in both its darker and lighter moments, it feels entirely human. It’s existential “Groundhog Day” and it’s fucking fantastic.

It is in its own way a perfect show, and while it may seem strange to say this, I almost hope it’s only one season. Granted, I 100 percent want to see more from the creative combo of Natasha Lyonne, Amy Poehler and Leslye Headland. Oh, who am I kidding? I would watch infinite seasons of this show about the randomness of existence, inevitably of death and importance of self discovery spiked with generous jolts of humor and horror that keeps you guessing the whole damn time.

In short, you should watch “Russian Doll” next. You really should.



p.s. Did I mention there’s a cat? (And don’t worry, the cat is fine.)

Music Monday: Queer Grammys Edition

Holy crap, were the Grammys…good? I think they were – and I can’t believe I’m saying this – good. Like, really good. The opposite of bad. Good. Granted, I watched them on time delay and got to fast forward through all of the commercials, speeches by the recording industry president and performances by male artists. But what I did see was honest to goodness enjoyable.

Like. Wow, that was fun. Let’s watch it again enjoyable. And much of that was thanks to queer female artists. Specifically Janelle Monae, Brandi Carlile and St. Vincent.

These ladies were, well, they were good.

Let’s start with Janelle Monae. The Empress of Bisexual Lighting “The Way You Make Me Feel” with just a touch of “Pynk” thrown in for good measure. And it was a precision clinic on coolness in all of its James Brown/Prince/Full Monae goodness.

And then there was Brandi. Our gal took home three Grammys in the untelevised part of the show (for Best Roots Performance, Song and Album). After an evening of high-octane female performers (admit it, the dudes all sucked in comparison) her raw and powerful vocals managed to still stand out amid the crowd. We gay gals are feeling pretty rightfully smug these days as the rest of the world finally catches on to Brandi’s greatness. Yeah, we knew her before the Grammys.

Also, during one of her untelevised acceptance speeches, she said this which is just another reminder of why we loved Brandi first.



And then, in the most unexpectedly spectacular coupling of the night, queer artist St. Vincent and singer Dua Lipa performed a mash-up of their hits “Masseduction” and “One Kiss,” respectively – with a little Aretha’s “R-E-S-P-E-C-T” thrown in for kicks. But it was how they performed it that was…sexy. It was so, so, so sexy. Like lesbian twinning dominatrixes sexy. I have watched it close to a dozen times and that might be a conservative estimate.

Well, like I was saying, I think the Grammys did not suck. (OK, maybe JLo’s Motown tribute wasn't the best, but still). Between all the above goodness and seeing Dolly Parton and Diana Ross and Michelle Obama kill it on the same stage. Well, yeah, the Grammys were good.

My Weekend Grammy Crush

I can’t stress enough how wonderful it is that Brandi Carlile is this year’s most Grammy nominated female artist. She is a superlative artist and a marvel to behold live. If you haven’t seen her perform, be sure to tune into the Grammy Awards Sunday night to see her. But until then please treat yourself to Brandi’s full performance on Austin City Limits last year. She talks about her wife and growing family and there’s even an adorable cameo by her oldest daughter. All in all, it’s well worth 52 minutes and 40 seconds of your life. Happy melodic weekend, all.

Gender Fuck Thursday: Michelle Yeoh Edition

I don’t know about you, but these pictures of Michelle Yeoh looking impeccable in a suit for RM Magazine are just what the doctor ordered. Like, just looking at them is making me feel better about the world. I think they also cleared my skin and improved my credit score.



I don’t know what effect they’ll have on you. But my suggestion is to take (at least) two and call me in the morning.

State of the Women

Who needs a palate cleanser after that orange trash bag squintily read off a teleprompter for 82 minutes? How about the 89 democratic congresswomen from the House of Representatives, many of them wearing suffragette white, making their presence felt at the State of the Union instead. Yeah, much better.



Hey, curious about how the two parties have done electing women to the House of Representatives in the last 30 years?

In 1989, there were 29 women in the House:
16 Democrats
13 Republicans

In 2019, there are 102 women in the House:
89 Democrats
13 Republicans



Crazy how women tend to feel more welcome and included and valued in a party that – and I’m just spitballing here – believes they have their own autonomy, deserve full equality and should be allowed to make reproductive choices about their bodies without invasive government interference. Like I was saying, crazy.

Other things you should know about last nights SOTU? Well, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez brought Ana María Archila, the woman who confronted now retired and perpetually spineless Senator Jeff Flake in an elevator about her sexual assault, promoting to have a conscience for about 30 seconds. Also, AOC wore what I believe is a white tank top under her suffragette white suit. So, you know, there’s that.



All in all, I think the night can be summed up in one image: Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi giving Trump the ultimate participation trophy clap before his big boy TV time speech.

The Other Ellen

You might have seen the short, two-minute clip that went viral last week of Ellen Page talking with Stephen Colbert about the deeply personal assault on LGBTQ rights happening right now in our country. It’s exactly the kind of clear, impassioned, unequivocal talk we need from not just our celebrities, but everyone. This administration hurts people – on purpose. The cruelty is the point.

But what you might not have seen the entire nearly 10-minute clip of her appearance with Colbert. Ellen reminds us that politics is always personal, and that those of us with the privilege and opportunity to speak out should do so whenever we can – particularly in support of the most marginalized groups among us. That includes people of color, indigenous people, LGBTQ people, people with disabilities and immigrants.

The world has too many Trumps and Pences and Bolsonaros already. May there always be more like Ellen to fight them and lay bare the pain and suffering they cause and fight for a fair and free future for all of us, and this crazy blue marble we call home.

Music Monday: Allo, Andy

Well, now isn’t this a nice way to ease into your workweek. Cameroon-born singer-songwriter Andy Allo’s “Angels Make Love” is a beautiful, sexy-as-hell lullaby for adults. The video features all kinds of gorgeous couplings. And I very much approve of her shirtless suit lifestyle choices. Oh, and did I mentioned the video was produced by Lena Waithe, thus racking up the maximum Lesbo Street Cred points possible? Now, that’s what I call something to sing about.