Wonder(fully) Laughing Woman Wednesday

It’s probably not the best sign when the gag reel for the new Wonder Woman movie is better than the actual Wonder Woman movie. But, look, I’ll take what I can get at this point after the disappointment that was “Wonder Woman 1984.” And while Steve Trevor’s mysterious presence in the sequel was its main and overwhelming problem (look, who amongst us hasn’t wanted their long-dead boyfriend back - except all of us lesbians of course), Chris Prine’s presence in the blooper montage is actually fairly delightful. But it’s most delightful because of Chris’s reaction to Gal Gadot’s giggle. Though, to be even fairer, the gag reel’s appeal is all about Gal’s giggle. Wonder Woman defeated by laughing fits? Yeah, I’d watch a whole movie of that. But I must insist - despite everything I’ve said about Chris Pine’s loveliness - that Steve Trevor remains dead in any and all future installments.

Oh, Yes!

The last few weeks have been a lot (hence the late posts), what with the continued pandemic, a variety of personal emergencies (like, our new dog chased our biggest cat in the middle of the night and the cat escaped by jumping onto my face and leaving me with a three-inch scratch across my entire forehead - good times) and other existential crises large and small. But I think part of it has been the continued exhaustion at the world and all its seemingly endless ills. And as an Asian American woman the violence directed at the AAPI community in particular has weighed heavily on my heart. Though, violence (physical and systematic) against any and all marginalized groups should weigh heavily on all our hearts.

So it’s nice to see many of our highest profile Asian voices speak out*, including longtime favorite Sandra Oh. I’m excited I get to watch her (one of the very few Asian actors to headline their own television American show, which if you think about it is nuts because more than half of the world population is Asian) finish out her starring stint on “Killing Eve” with its upcoming fourth and final season. I don’t care what people say, I still thoroughly enjoyed the last season and its even gayer outcomes. Indeed, I hope the showrunners have the courage to take it there and explore the attraction/obsession to its fullest. I know Sandra and Jodie Comer are up for the task. I don’t know if I want Eve and Villanelle to have a happy ending, necessarily. But I definitely want them to address the big queer elephant in the room.

The show hands off to its fourth female showrunner in so many seasons (starting with “Fleabag” creator Phoebe Waller-Bridge, then “Promising Young Woman” director Emerald Fennell and last “Fear the Walking Dead” writer Suzanne Heathcote). “Sex Education” scribe Laura Neal next takes over. I’m thrilled to see so many female showrunners getting a chance to helm this extraordinary show. (Though, I have noticed they are all white ladies, ahem.) So, thanks Sandra. Thanks for your voice and thanks for your talent. And let’s go Eve. Though, given the show’s name, if she makes it out alive should we consider the whole series false advertising?

*Like, did you catch Bowen Yang on SNL? Because you should.

Music Monday: St. Lipa Edition

We’ve almost made it through our second March of this pandemic. And the light at the end of the COVID tunnel feels so near. In a week I get my second vaccine, and by May everyone across the country should be eligible. It’s gonna be a good summer, dammit. So to get ready, please relive possibly the sexiest Grammy duet ever. St. Vincent. Dua Lipa. Watch it again and get ready to touch other human beings very, very soon. Happy Monday, kittens.

p.s. Anti-vaxx bullshit will be summarily deleted, as will other pandemic conspiracy nonsense. Thank you, science. We’d never get out of this if we had to only rely on each other.

My Weekend Crush

Jessica Walter was many things more than just Lucille Bluth. But Lucille Bluth alone was more than enough to make her a legend. Like, we can all only dream of creating a character as perfectly, pointedly hilarious. What she could do with a look, her line delivery. I have legit spit water out laughing at Jessica playing Lucille. Who hasn't. Rest in peace, to this icon. Happy weekend, all.

Gender Fuck Thursday

Thanks for coming by, @mPinoe. pic.twitter.com/vjqvrOTQBJ

— The White House (@WhiteHouse) March 25, 2021

So Megan Rapinoe visited the White House this week. And she somehow managed to be both cooler than the average human person could ever be and also deeply relatable as an average human person. Like, she shows off some mad footwork outside the West Wing Ccolonnade. And she dorks out in the White House briefing room. All that, and she is a tireless fighter for equal rights and equal pay.

.@USWNT's Megan Rapinoe and Margaret Purce (@mPinoe & @100Purcent) visit the White House Press Briefing Room. pic.twitter.com/YpkwLIRuqx

— CSPAN (@cspan) March 24, 2021

Here’s To You, Ms. Robison

One of the most delightful episodes in the crazy/sexy/sometimes cool/then crazy some more ride that was “The L Word” is “Lucky Be A Lady” Midway through the fourth season, the episode is directed by Angela Robinson and it shows. From its nimble telephone montage to its playful competence (sadly, I could only find the trailer for the ep, not the scenes themselves), the whole thing was vintage Robinson. You’ll recognize the talented writer, director, producer from her time with “The L Word” as well as “True Blood.” And if you’re in my age bracket, you no doubt remember her campy masterpiece “D.E.B.S” Heck, I even remember her first short film “D.E.B.S.” from its late-night short-film screenings on Logo TV. That short version starred among others Tammy Lynn Michaels and Clare Kramer. Anyway, this fun walk down lesbian entertainment memory lane is a long and winding way of talking about Robinson’s new production deal with Warner Bros. Television. The out triple-threat will create and develop scripted TV originals for HBO, HBO Max and the company’s other TV properties. I for one can’t wait to see what she comes up with. If it’s anything as fun or as gay as what she’s done already, we’re certainly in for a treat.

p.s. Because time in lesbian media is a flat circle, did you know Angela is also working on a TV remake of “Flashdance”/a.k.a. the movie that was the well-toned warmup to Jennifer Beals’s true calling as Bette Porter/Gay Kamala Harris?

Movie Review: Summerland

Look, if you haven’t watched “Summerland,” just stop reading. Because everything I have to say about “Summerland,” legit everything, has to do with its ending. OK, so are we clear? This thing is filled with spoilers. Go it? Great. Here we go.

So, yeah, how about that happy ending? I started watching “Summerland” with very few expectations other than it had something vaguely to do with a past lesbian love. And as I watched “Summerland” those expectations remained largely intact. And then, it ended entirely happily and I was genuinely a little shocked.

No lesbian died in the making of this movie. No lesbian was physically hurt in the making of this movie. No lesbians were left with ambiguously open-ended endings after the making of this movie. It just ended with the lesbian couple living happily ever after together. I know. What?

Set in World War II-era England, “Summerland” follows a cranky writer named Alice (played by Gemma Arterton who has played gay before in “Vita & Virginia”) who lives by the seaside in Kent and is saddled with a boy from London taking refuge from the blitz bombings. Alice lives alone, but flashbacks show us it wasn’t always this way and she once had one of those beautiful, always lit-during-golden-hour relationships years earlier with another woman named Vera (played by Gugu Mbatha-Raw who has played gay before in “San Junipero”).

But then Vera left Alice because she wanted kids. Now Alice isn’t doing that great with the unwelcome kid, named Frank, in her house. But, as often happens in movies, they start to warm toward each other. And then perhaps the biggest unspoken lesbian romance wish-fulfillment twist in all of moviedom happens when Frank’s father dies in the war and then Alice realizes Frank’s mom is…wait for it…VERA.

Yes, we are talking long-lost lesbian loves who reunite after the inconvenient husband has conveniently passed away and they…wait for it again, but I promise it’ll be worth it.. get back together and live happily ever after together. I mean, they virtually walk off into the sunset together, but this is still Britain so it was a little too cloudy for all that.

Look, it’s not a perfect movie. They could have made the flashbacks a little meatier, and a little less bathed in golden nostalgia. Things move a tad slowly, and there’s an awful lot about the boy. But any movie that had Gemma and Gugu making eyes at each other is over a parasol cannot be all bad. And, indeed, “Summerland” is perfectly pleasant. And, again, it’s genuinely something that the twist in this lesbian period piece is that the lesbians get to live happily ever after together after all.

Music Monday: Cyndi Edition

Talking about Jodie and Jennifer circa the 1980s got me feeling the decade. I mean, the fashion is back for some ungodly reason. No one needs mom jeans, peple. So why not revel in the best of the genre. Sure, there may have been bigger, slicker superstars to come out of the decade. But, truly, few captured the pop-punky weirdness of the generation better than our gal Cyndi Lauper. So sit back and enjoy the show. Yeah, OK, some of the 80s can come back. Happy Monday, kittens.

My Weekend Crush

Well, it’s been a week. I don’t have to tell you it’s been a frightening and infuriating week to be Asian American, particularly an Asian American woman. I could rail against the willful privilege that is exhibited when law enforcement officials empathize with mass murderers in real-time during a press conference. Or I could ccream about how you can not disentangle the racism and misogyny displayed by the killer’s actions. But what I really want to do is just retreat to the comfort of the first time I saw myself on film. Yes, I’ve already admitted to its many, many problematic elements. But you still can’t damped the importance of representation on that scale for a young Asian-American girl growing up in the Midwest. So, thank you Tamlyn Tomita. Also, obviously, I had a massive crush on her because, you know, look at her. Happy weekend, all.

A Fine Romance

You know the saying, “Gonna give the gays everything they want?” Well, that glorious Mother of Unicorns Emily Andras has taken that as marching orders in the best way possible. So far the remaining (and hopefully not last) six episodes of “Wynonna Earp” have been pure fandom Nirvana. The first two installments have been fun, adventurous and fun some more. They bring to mind some of the best Monsters of the Week “X-Files” episodes, but with a lot more gay stuff.

Speaking of The Gay, the show has gone full shipper service with its WayHaught storylines and references. You’ve got to give them credit, they know the Big Queer Bus (and our LGBTQ+ allies) that got them to where they are. And they’re going to do everything they can to give us the stories we deserve. The scenes between Waverly and Nicole this season have been wonderful, and also wonderfully swoony.

I mean, come on, having Nicole Haught don her old sheriff’s uniform and that white Stetson as she’s perfectly silhouette by the slowly setting sun? Please, lesbian romance novelists only dream of a moment that perfectly, spectacularly gay.

While I hope against hope that this fourth season will not be the last for this scrappy, big-hearted show, I trust it will continue to be an exuberant and refreshing ride for as long as it can. I can’t wait to see what hijinks they get into Friday night. I just know it’s gonna be gay.

p.s. Yeah, Emily, we totally noticed the hat callback. Noticed and very, very appreciated. Ahem.

Wonder Women Wednesday

I think we can all agree that the best part of “Wonder Woman 1984” was its post-credit scene. (I’ll say spoilers here, but seriously, it’s been almost four months.) Anyway, you know the scene, where we see a striking woman walking through a packed market only to effortlessly saves a woman and her baby from being crushed by a falling pole. And that woman, yeah, she happened to be original Wonder Woman herself Lynda Carter. Yeah, it almost made those two-and-a-half hours of wondering why Steve Trevor was alive again worth it. But, I was a little disappointed there was no direct contact between Wonder Woman Version 1.0 Lynda and Wonder Woman Version 2.0 Gal Gadot. Well, thankfully, they did have another happy meeting while on set for the sequel. With kisses no less. Look, sometimes you’ve got to enjoy the little things. Like the two Wonder Women being wonderful women together. Not bad for a Wednesday, really. Not bad at all.

Brandi's Prine Time

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A post shared by Brandi Carlile (@brandicarlile)

Why just have one sublime music offering this week when we could have two? Brandi Carlile has been a longtime favorite of mine, as John Prine who was a favorite of my late father’s. We listed to his music on car trips across the country, and I took in their gentle poetry. At the Grammys over the weekend, Brandi again performed one of Prine’s songs in tribute to the singer-songwriter who died last year from COVID-19. This time she performed the last song he wrote and recorded. Give it a listen. Yeah, when we can once again crowd up against each other in sweaty ballrooms while all screaming the lyrics in unison, I’m definitely going to go see Brandi.

p.s. Oh, and don’t think I missed that Brandi took home a Best Country Song Grammy for “Crowded Table” from The Highwomen. That’s some next level Zoom award accepting there, Brandi.

Music Monday: A Pandemic Ode

Last weekend marked my one-year COVID self-quarantine anniversary. Thinking back, how naïve we were as we hunkered down for what we thought would be a couple quiet weeks. A couple strange months, at most. But here we are more than 365 days later and counting. But, hope is here. Vaccinations are moving at more than two million a day. By May 1 we should all be eligible for our shots. Oh what a difference a competent – not to mention empathetic – federal government makes. So hold on, keep wearing those masks and stay safe. And while we wait our turn, please enjoy the incomparable Yo-Yo Ma. The famed cellist gave an impromptu concert while he waited his 15-minutes after receiving his second shot last week. We’ve all lived through a monstrous 12 months. We’ve lost more than half-a-million of our friends and neighbors to this wretched pandemic. But, together, we can find the beauty in this world again. Happy Monday, kittens.

My Weekend Crush

Did I say Jodie and Jennifer were friends in the 1980s? Yeah, looks like they were still friends 20 years later in the early 2000s. I appreciate friends who go through decades worth of fashions together. Like, you can just feel Jennifer’s frilly midriff tank top and flared embroidered jeans in your bones. So now we demand to see proof of their friendship another two decades later. And the most efficient way to do this, in my humble opinion, is to let Jodie cameo on “The L Word: Generation Q.” What? Come on, how iconic would that be? Make it so, lesbian television gods. Make it so. Happy weekend, all.

When Jodie Met Jenny

Sometimes the universe in its infinite wonder reminds you that Jodie Foster and Jennifer Beals have been friends since the 1980s. And there are photos. Glorious, wondrous photos. Props to Jennifer for the decades in advance method acting tutorial. I mean, that’s clearly the reason her Bette Porter is so convincing. Cleary.

Also, this was three years after “Flashdance.” So, yeah, Jodie and that smirk and Jennifer and that fedora knew exactly what they were doing. Ahem.

All Hail The Queen (No, Not That One)

I am not going to tell you that “The Equalizer” is a great show or anything. But it is a deeply satisfying show in many ways. And the biggest way is that it allows us all an unadulterated opportunity to watch Queen Latifah just kick major ass. Like, legit, it’s just Dana Owens beating bad guys – emphasis on guys – to a pulp week after week. Look, sometimes the stuff we enjoy isn’t rock science. Sometimes it’s just the visceral satisfaction of The Queen (no, not the one whose monarchy Oprah helped to casually dismantle over the weekend) being a badass on my television. What can I say, I’m a simple gal.

Respect Your Rosie

With #AllenVFarrow on the brain, here’s @Rosie dragging Woody Allen to hell and back in her 1995 (!!!) HBO Comedy Special. pic.twitter.com/c38fqe62qf

— Eddie Mouradian (@eddie_mouradian) February 23, 2021

When you’re right, you’re right. Way back in 1995, Rosie O’Donnell was so, so right. She was right about Woody Allen then, and she is right about Woody Allen now. Back before #MeToo. Before any reckoning. Before anyone in Hollywood even blinked at working with The Man Who Mad Annie Hall, Rosie was right. And everyone who have felt weird about him since the 90s like me were right, too. Anyway, respect your queer elders, children. Sometimes, oftentimes, they know their shit.

p.s. Can't wait to see Rosie battle Bette on second season of "The L Word: Generation Q."

Music Monday: Moderna Edition

It’s my blog and I’ll post about Dolly Parton as many times as I want to during the pandemic if I want to. But, really, how could I not as Dolly got a dose of her own medicine last week as she received the Moderna COVID-19 vaccine she helped to fund. Also, come on, how great is her vaccination outfit? She’s just so darn…great. She’s great. Happy Monday, kittens.

p.s. I will happily delete all vaccine misinformation because while you are absolutely allowed to believe whatever you want to believe in your personal life, you absolutely do not have the right to spout that utter bullshit crazytalk on my personal blog. So, you know, buy-bye.

My (Belated) Weekend Crush

Pardon my tardiness with this weekend's Crush. I was just tired and busy and tired and busy and tired and busy. You know, normal pandemic shit. But I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the historic passage of the American Relief Plan by the Senate. Yes, the Democrats retreated on some stupid things for no good reason other than stubborn centrist dogma. But let it never be forgotten that not one single Republican voted for the plan that provides critical help to struggling Americans amid an ongoing pandemic that has killed more than half a million of our neighbors and plunged our economy into uncertainty while billionaires continue to rake in astronomical profits. Madam Vice President’s tie-breaking vote wasn’t needed (though only because one GOP Senator had an emergency and couldn’t be there to cast his “no” vote otherwise it would have been 50-50). But you have to think young, impossibly hip Kamala Harris would have marveled at her future self. Happy what’s left of your weekend, all.

Murder Show Me

So I’ve had “Murder Show” in my head since last Saturday. One, because it’s damn catchy. And, two, because I too have spent basically every pandemic weekend watching murder shows, or cult shows, or baking shows. Sometimes all three. My all-time favorite, however, is the female-fronted British crime show. Your “Scott & Bailey.” Your “Vera.” Your “Unforgotten.” I am, of course, always looking for more murder shows to fill the endless void of existence/weekend. So, what’s been your favorite pandemic murder show?

SGALGG: Pandemic Globes Edition

So, we already talked about the Jodie gay news from the Globes. But, if we’re being honest, queer women and their dogs were kind of the best part of this year’s pandemic Golden Globes. Well, that and a bicoastally separated Tina & Amy as hosts. I have to say, it’s just not the same watching celebrities suck at Zoom at home like us. But, there were still some bright spots amid the terrible sound and bad webcams. And, again, many of them were gay women.

There was Jodie and Alex and their pup Izzy.

And there was Sarah Paulson and her (and Holland Taylor’s) rescue pup Winnie.

There was Gillian Anderson in a skull-topped Dior with her pup in matching pup Dior.

Cynthia Nixon didn’t have a dog with her. But she had her wife Christine, their son Max, Manhattan D.A. candidate Tahanie Aboushi and her husband, and the Bernie Meme at their Globes party instead.

I regret to inform you that My Fake TV/Film Wife Tina Fey has discovered the evening wear line from Laura Ashley.

But all is forgiven because of her pantless tuxedo from the start of the show.

In these pandemic times, this is as close as we got to Straight Gals Acting Like Gay Gals. And you know what, I’ll take it.

You've Come A Long Way, Jodie

If you’ve been around Ye Olde Blogge for any length of time you’ll know Jodie Foster has always been a favorite of mine. She was, after all, my very first My Weekend Crush. I believe her to be one of my very first real-world crushes too, definitely the first after I realized and accepted that these crushes were that kind of crushes. But then Jodie has always been a major dyke magnet. So many queer girls have seen something in her that we saw – or wanted to see – in ourselves. The tough tomboy. The smartest student in the room. Beautiful but different. Glamorous, but with grit. She set off our gaydar before some of us even knew it was gaydar.

To anyone who has closely followed the arc of Jodie’s career, her Golden Globes moment this past weekend – where she casually accepting a surprise Best Supporting Actress trophy while lounging in pajamas with her wife Alexandra Hedison and their dog Izzy (in a matching bandana to Jodie’s PJs) at home – was extraordinary in its ordinariness. Over the years Jodie has maintained a fierce, almost fanatical, protection of her privacy. I mean, you can’t blame her. She’s been famous since she could walk, pretty much. But one can’t help but realize the convenience of demanding total privacy while also staying firmly closeted.

In those early days, back with her first and at the time unacknowledged publicly partner Cydney Bernard, any cloaked mention of her personal life was major. Like when her sons sorta-kind out them as a couple. Like her calling her longtime partner “my beautiful Cydney” in a public speech where other people could hear. Like when Parade magazine, of all places, acknowledging she was quite probably The Gay. And then, finally in 2013, when she came out at the Golden Globes while swearing this wasn’t her coming out because she had come out “a thousand years ago, back in the stone age.” And then a year later she married Alexandra, a.k.a. Ellen’s ex/Dylan from TLW.

And, now seven years later, they’re just like any other couple of bored lesbians attending a Zoom cocktail hour in their PJs while cuddling their dog amid a global pandemic. Granted, bored lesbians who wear Prada pajamas. But still, to watch Jodie’s genuine surprise and joy as won and then reached over to grab Alexandra’s face and kiss her without hesitation on a live video call broadcast to the entire world – well, who says people can’t change? Who says what our lives will end up looking like once we truly embrace ourselves, or how great they might be once we get there.

You’ve come a long way, Jodie. Truly, we all have.

p.s. Expect more Golden Globe talk tomorrow, with as SGLAGG as we can get during an ongoing global pandemic.

Music Monday: Tiny House Edition

Miley Cyrus singing Mazzy Star? Yes, pleases and thank yous. I’ve always been a sucker for Hope Sandoval’s haunting vocals, the beautiful ennui of it all. Through the pandemic I’ll happily admit I’ve been enjoying Miley’s rock covers. So why not settle back for Miley’s mini Tiny Desk/Little Pink Houses concert to start this week and month off right. Yeah, I know, somehow it’s March again. Happy Monday, kittens.

p.s. But, really, was it ever not March this past year?