Right, so apparently Sophie Thatcher and Havana Rose Liu play former lovers in this. You couldn’t guess it from this teaser, but then you really can’t guess anything from this teaser except that Charles Melton has great pecs. But, per Deadline, the plot of “Her Private Hell,” follows an actress named Elle (played by Sophie, teenage Nat of “Yellowjackets” fame) working on a new movie who reunites with Dominique (played by Havana Rose of “Bottoms” fame), who happens to be her former lover but is now married to her father. Which, ew.
There’s also some sort of urban legend and/or myth and/or hallucination about a The Leather Man who drags young women to Hell. And/or it could just be a real serial killer. Anyway, Deadline goes on to call the movie, which premiered in Cannes out of competition, pretentious. But possibly in a good way? I dunno. I just know we’d better get some payoff for all these movies (looking at you, “Mother Mary”) that feature fraught relationships between former female lovers. Otherwise, no matter how pretentious, what’s the damn lesbian point?
Well, now. I truly appreciate Gillian Anderson’s commitment to her campaign to start major beef with Jean Smart over the affection of Hannah Einbinder. So far Jean has largely tried to stay above the fray, confident in her place as Hannah’s O.G. Alpha May-December Suitor. But after those glowing reviews of “Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma” from its Cannes premiere last week, I’m more invested in the Jean Smart-Gillian Anderson throwdown than ever. Also, Hannah’s wide-eyed reaction and insistence that they’re “open.” Talk about giving the sapphics what they want.
p.s. This is exactly how I’d look at Gillian if she put her hand around my waist like that. Exactly.
p.p.s. I know, I know, I’m super behind on all the gay shit on “Hacks.” But this is Gillian’s moment anyway.
Man, since “Everything Everywhere All At Once,” Jamie Lee Curtis seems to be exactly that. She’s been on “The Bear,” she’s headlining the “Scarpetta” adaptation (which, I haven’t watched because Prime, but how is it folks?), and coming soon(ish) the new “Murder, She Wrote” reboot. But we remember her when she was a good ol’ OG Scream Queen. And. of course, those tank tops.
Charli XCX remains that girl. Is that something the kids still say today? Is this my “How do you do, fellow kids” moment? Anyway, Charli is cool and I love her bratty, rocky everything. Us old timers are allowed to rock out too. Happy Monday, kittens.
Does it look a little like Kristin Scott Thomas skinned Gritty and made him into a fabulous coat? Yes. Do I care? No. I mean, Gritty should feel honored to grace those shoulders. And be under that hair. Also, I’m not really on vacation. But I have a work conference this week still the end result for you is the same. Some lovely, lovely vixens. Don’t worry, they’re not all big game hunters like KST.
I don’t have a great sense for how famous MUNA is. I mean, in my little gay world they’re kind of a big deal. But I willfully admit to living in a super sapphic bubble these days where I blissfully do not know the names of any of the straight people on those rich-people-screaming-at-each-other shows. Anyway, as I was saying, I hope MUNA remains/becomes properly famous. Because queer ladies singing about their love of/hots for other queer ladies will never not be awesome in my book. Famous or not famous. Happy Monday, kittens.
Let’s keep these good sapphic 90s vibes going with one of my favorite brief but impactful (at least for me) lesbian moments in cinema. It’s when Clarissa dances with Sally in “Mrs. Dalloway.” It’s also when I first fell in love with Lena Headey, and the rest, of course, is history. While the dance, and of course that kiss, fill me me nostalgic fledgling gay feelings, it’s the look that Natascha McElhone (as young Clarissa) gives those horrid male interlopers who interrupt their moment that remains etched in my memory. That’s Big Queer Feelings right there. Can you believe that movie is 29 years old? And we’re still searching, and searching, for more movies that give us those Big Queer Feelings. Alas, the more things change, unfortunately the more they can also stay the same. Happy weekend, all.
While absentmindedly flipping through my feed recently, I came across a vintage photo of Tilda Swinton from the 90s. Which, of course, got me thinking about her 90s gender-queer masterpieces “Orlando” and “Female Perversions.” While aggressively chauvinistic pseudo-sexual thrillers (for some reason mostly starring Michael Douglas) were all the rage at the mainstream box office, Tilda was blowing my little gay socks off with a female-gaze/verging on nonbinary vision of sexuality that defied easy definition. Also, both films are examples of using queer themes for genuine exploration, and not just titillation. (Ahem, Anne and Dakota, ahem.)
Now I haven’t watched either movie in a good decade, if not much longer. And, naturally, neither appear readily available on major streamers. So I’ll have to go off memory. But I just remember feeling so engrossed and so awed by both movies. I’m sure there are things in these 30+-year old films that don’t hold up. But the intoxicating rush of unexpected sexuality, well, that will stay with me forever. Also, hot damn, I forgot how stacked the cast of “Female Perversions” was in particular. Tilda (Oscar winner), Amy Madigan (Oscar winner), Frances Fisher, Paulina Porizkova, Marcia Cross. I think, as I continue to rummage thrift store DVD racks in search of physical media we can own and keep (because, truly, fuck subscriptions and never owning anything outright), I will add both movies to my “Must Find” list. Until then, here’s a little reminder. Yeah, 90s Tilda could get it (2026 Tilda too, but she’s been in a long-term relationship for a while so, you know, respect).
Now this, this is the kind of lesbian movie trailer I do like. (Verit-what-now?) Very much in fact. “Notice Me”? Consider yourself dulty noticed. I only wish it was for a full feature and not just a short. But, you’d better believe as soon as I know how to watch this I will because, come on, how charming was all that? Also, the short film has an all-female team from the writer to director to Lena freaking Dunham as executive producer. I have some complicated feelings about Lena, but “Girls” was genuinely a thing and now that she’s back in the spotlight I’m certainly open to continuing to check out her work. Also, did I mention how charming this trailer is? As I was saying, full movie, please.
Well, now, this is disappointing. And, believe me, that’s hard for me to say when you’ve got two hot ladies kissing front and center. But, alas, context. Always, always context. Because under normal gay circumstances I would LOVE to see Anne Hathaway and Dakota Johnson kiss on screen because, duh, I have eyes and am a lesbian. But, tricksy tricksy context.
You see, despite initial reports, Anna Hathaway and Dakota Johnson’s characters aren’t really kissing in the new trailer for “Verity.” Look closely. No, you see, they’re Sapphic Psychosis Smoochin. You know the kind. Where a gal starts kissing one person and pulls back only to realize, IT’S A GIRL. Or, maybe it’s not even a girl – it’s just their overactive psychotic imagination. Possibly murderous, too. Don’t forget that.
We have, certainly, seen this before. Sabrina Carpenter and Jenna Ortega (and tempting poor Jane Wickline) in “Taste.” Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis (and possibly Evil Natalie Portman) going at it in “Black Swan.” It’s the old fake-out. Just another niche version of the Very Special Lesbian Kiss Episode of Sweeps Weeks of yore.
And, again, while normally an Anne and Dakota smooch would be, you know, not a bad thing, the bad thing is that it is likely solely for the oh-lalas and not any real plot and or queerness. How do I know? Well, because “Verity” is based on the book by Colleen Hoover and a little research tells me there are no queer storylines in her book, nor any smooching between the two women in question. So they added it to the movie to, you know, spice things up. But, safely, without any real gay stuff.
It should be noted that Hoover’s work was behind “It Ends With Us,” a.k.a. The Most Disastrously Marketed Movie of the 2020s that has resulted in me disliking everyone involved more (minus perhaps Jenny Slate).
Annie Hathaway, come on – can you give us something truly sapphic sometime soon? Sure, there was “Eileen,” which was kind of gayish (but mostly sad), and there is “Mother Mary,” which is in limited release but [SPOILERS] Anne and Michaela Coel don’t ever kiss or define their past “relationship.” The sapphics would appreciate a real queer moment from you. And, no, being in “Brokeback Mountain” doesn’t count – at least not for us. (Same for those devilish Prada movies...)
I’m not a Coachella person. I mostly never get FOMO about it and, truly, I barely know half the bands headlining these days. Have at it kids (though, perhaps you’d be interested in knowing the owner of Coachella is a billionaire MAGA dickhead - wait, is that redundant? - whose money supports shitty things like ICE’s mass deportations) ANYway.
I say all this because I did learn at least one thing from Coachella this year. And that’s that I have been sleeping on Gigi Perez and definitely shouldn’t have. I saw she brought Hayley Koyoko out on stage to sing “Girls Like Girls” during her Coachella set and was like, “Hello.” So I Googled her (-AI results, because fuck AI AND billionaire MAGA dickheads), and goodness. Where have I been? I actually am familiar with her music already, but didn’t know it. That is thanks to her rise to fame on TikTok with snippets of her “Sailor Song” playing over, kinda everything. But for whatever reason I didn’t clue in until Lesbian Jesus offered an assist. See, who says I’m not spiritual.
So here’s to a young, talented, queer artist singing her truth and making me want to sing sapphic sea shanties against the setting sun. Happy Monday, kittens.
Welp. Normally I’d save such fine, fine, very, very, very fine suitage for Thursday, as the good gay gods intended. But, it’s May and I can’t wait and omfg here’s Jodie Foster in a full-on Mad Men-era suit for the Wall Street Journal. And I’m already terribly late because this interview came out in JANUARY and I’m just now seeing it. (Maybe because WSJ is owned by Rupert Murdoch, and I try to avoid his everything…) Anyway, if you want to read it (and throw the bird at old Rup), here is the Internet Archive version for your reading pleasure. Otherwise, just behold the majesty. This makes me really, really want a dapper gray suit. Or Jodie. Probably both. (Respectfully). What? Call it spring fever. Happy weekend, all.
