When Jocelyn was stuck inside during most of 2020, they did what any high school senior would do: scrolled through TikTok. They found themself on the hashtag #tiktokmademegay a lot. (To protect privacy, the Blade is opting to only use Jocelyn’s first name).

“At the time, I didn’t give it a lot of thought,” they say, acknowledging that most users viewed it as “more of a joke.” 

Now a senior in college, where Jocelyn will graduate with a degree in Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies and Computer Science this spring, they have a more nuanced perspective. Nuanced enough to embark on a year-long independent thesis on the topic.

They still get that the hashtag is a joke, but probe into what lies behind it, noting a tension between the “the born-this-way narrative of sexuality essentialism” to the idea that “sexuality is socially constructed.” They also question the power this narrative gives to TikTok in its ability to surveil user data and identity. 

What got Jocelyn so interested in it in the first place was the fact it was a conservative talking point being replicated by the queer community. Because, what amounts to a joke or an intellectual query for some, is a point of anxiety and fear-mongering for others.

The conservative think tank known for writing Project 2025, the Heritage Foundation wrote “How Big Tech Turns Kids Trans” arguing that “Digital spaces are ever more designed to promote sexual and transgender content.” This argument has incredible staying power and has been echoed by numerous far-right pundits like Oli London and Charlie Kirk.

It has also been referenced by lawmakers. Tennessee Sen. Marsha Blackburn (R) stated the Kids Online Safety Act (KOSA), bi-partisan legislation she co-sponsored restricting youth access to social media, was meant to “protect minor children from the transgender [sic] in our culture.”

TikTok has faced numerous challenges over the years. From Montana’s currently unsuccessful ban on use in its state to the “divest-or-ban bill” signed by President Joe Biden in April or the lawsuit brought by more than a dozen attorneys general in October—it is clear there is a broad coalition of U.S. lawmakers concerned about the app. 

These acts—which cite both national security and youth mental health—come in conjunction with a larger movement to limit youth access to social media—locally, nationally, and internationally.

Data security experts and some legislators state that the national security risk of the app is only hypothetical due to the fact TikTok houses U.S. user data in the states. There are pressing concerns about the safety of user data, explains Shae Gardner, the policy director at LGBT Tech. Focusing those concerns entirely on one platform due to a hypothetical risk rather than the widespread, real risks across multiple platforms is disingenuous.

“Proponents [of this ban] have been saying that this is urgent and necessary to protect the data of Americans,” says Gardner, “But we have been asking for years for nationwide data privacy protections, and watching the efforts die over and over again on the legislative vine.”

In fact, Gardner argues, “Regulating one application is both legally dubious and will ultimately be ineffective in doing so.” Gardner explains that though LGBT Tech is not involved in any legislation against the ban, which other tech policy groups are, they hold the shared belief that it is unconstitutional to target a single platform rather than the wider ecosystem.

The risk to youth mental health, which has also been cited as a major concern, is more complicated. Best sellers like the highly critiqued “The Anxious Generation” argue that all youth mental illness is linked to social media. The data doesn’t back this up, argue numerous experts.

Amid the panic, LGBTQ advocates have passionately argued that queer youth’s access to technology is uniquely beneficial due to a lack of education and community in the physical world. The Trevor Project identified TikTok as the platform where LGBTQ youth felt most “safe and understood.” 

Data largely backs this up. A systematic review from 2022 found that “social media may support the mental health and well-being of LGBTQ youths through peer connection, identity management, and social support.” The review noted that more research is needed, noting that their results may be limited by weak evidence due to factors like small sample sizes. 

Celia B. Fisher, the Marie Ward Doty University Chair in Ethics at Fordham University, was able to gather a larger sample by conducting a national survey of more than 500 on Instagram. With that reach, explains Fisher, “you’re more likely to get a fuller view of what’s going on nationally.”

“There’s an anonymity with national surveys,” adds Fisher, “[It] brings different people to answer questions that they may not want to talk about to somebody in person.”

In March 2024, she published the peer-reviewed article “Social media: A double-edged sword for LGBTQ+ youth” in the Journal “Computers in Human Behavior.” Many results agreed with the larger narrative of online spaces as refuges and community-building spaces. “It’s a wonderful place when they can find the appropriate sites,” says Fisher.

Jocelyn, the student researcher, echoes this. “Many of the videos I have come across discuss how the comfortability of the queer spaces on TikTok was part of the reason they felt comfortable enough to come out and explore their sexuality.”

When youth drift into non-welcoming territory, the story is different.

Fisher’s research finds that more than 80% of youth are exposed to discrimination either directly or vicariously (watching others being discriminated against) in the last month. Fisher wrote, “between 40% and 63% of all youth met the criteria for moderate levels of depression, anxiety, and substance use disorder (SUD).” Youth who described high exposure to discrimination had higher levels of depression, anxiety, and SUD.

The hate does not simply come from the run-of-the-mill bully finding a classmate online. “Algorithms expose them to these things,” says Fisher.

“If an algorithm sees that you’re interested in RuPaul… Then it begins its work on figuring out other sites that may be attached to similar interests. But as it moves on, it begins to add the heterosexist and transphobic types of posts.”

The fact that the algorithms that govern our tech can be sexist, racist, and homophobic is old news and highly studied, but it continues to have compounding impacts. Media Matters for America found in 2021 that TikTok’s algorithm specifically promotes homophobia and anti-trans violence.

Jocelyn also worries about handing over the power of identification and community to an algorithm. In addition to the #tiktokmademegay, other users promote the idea that “TikTok knows things about themself before they know it.” This rhetoric is “scary” says Jocelyn, because “handing over the keys of self-identification to an algorithm that we have no idea how it works is not something that feels right.”

Gardner echoes the complex views on the state of social media. Outside of her day job as a policy maven, Gardner is a TikToker under the handle @shaeitaintsoo, where she shares educational content about LGBTQ issues. 

“These spaces also allow for a lot of queer joy and a lot of authenticity in a way that makes me proud to be a part of this community,” she says. At the same time, backlash is part of the job. The success of TikTok’s moderation has ebbed and flowed during her four years as a public figure on the app.  

Gardner emphasizes that “hatred and harassment do not live in algorithms.” The discrimination faced online is replicated bigotry from offline spaces. Social media can amplify and distribute the bigotry in new ways. “It is the responsibility of the platforms to be making significant efforts to ensure that the replication is not then also multiplied and made ten times worse.”

Gardner sees the backlash as a “tale as old as time” that has been replicated without much evidence onto emerging technology. “I’m not saying that tale is not rooted in some element of truth. But this, this didn’t start with TikTok, I would push back against language that seems to think it will end with TikTok.” 

In the meantime, Gardner implores those worried to not lose sight of the most important concerns. 

“If your concern is that [kids and teens] are spending too much time in online spaces. What are you doing to create safe, physical ones for them?” Gardner asks. 

(This story is part of the Digital Equity Local Voices Fellowship Lab through News is Out. The lab initiative is made possible with support from Comcast NBCUniversal.)

As we approach Thanksgiving 2024, it seems safe to say that holiday dinners with the family back home are going to be even more stressful than usual.

Those conversations with cousins and in-laws around the table have always been a minefield to navigate for queer people from traditional families. This year, knowing that the uncle seated across from you voted for somebody who might take away your hard-won rights is sure to make that turkey pretty hard to swallow. With scenarios like that looming large in our minds, there’s a particular twinge of poignance to be felt in watching “Close to You,” a Canadian film from writer/director Dominic Savage in which Elliot Page plays a trans man returning to his small-town family home for his father’s birthday after being away for nearly five years.

Sam (Page) has been living in Toronto, renting a room from a friend-and-surrogate-mother (Sook-Yin Lee) while exploring and adjusting to big-city life as a trans man; now, he’s ready to return home for the holiday, but nervous about the reception he might receive. On the train ride home, he runs into Katherine (Hillary Baack), his “bestie” from school, and the warm – if somewhat awkward – acceptance he feels from her buoys him as he goes on to face his father (Peter Outerbridge), mother (Wendy Crewson), and the siblings and significant others who make up his immediate family circle. 

Things go reasonably well, at first, with a warm welcome from Mum, a newfound acceptance from Dad, and a tentative rekindling of connection with his sisters (Janet Porter, Alex Paxton-Beesley), but increasingly aggressive provocations from a transphobic extended family member (David Reale) become difficult to ignore. He finds an escape and some solace with Katherine, who overcomes an initial reticence to reconnect further after their chance reunion reawakens the emotional bond they once shared; but the old feelings and resentments stirred within his family dynamic threaten to derail any chance of true reconciliation at home, reminding him of why he left in the first place.

Moody, raw, and tinged with a melancholy that asserts itself even in its happier moments, Savage’s movie conveys a tone as chilly as the slushy Canadian November of its setting. It takes the audience in close – literally, in the sense that much of it is shot in close-up, tight on its players’ faces as if we were part of the conversation – to provide a tangible feeling of intimacy and connect us to the emotional perspective of everyone involved. Much of it has an improvisatory feel, with dialogue that sometimes feels tentative or choked with uncertainty, yet allows for the eruption of frequent outbursts and the resonance of eloquently expressed thoughts. And its authenticity is reinforced by a collection of superb performances, with Page (who co-authored the film’s story with Savage) giving a deeply felt star turn as Sam and a gifted ensemble of actors in support. All together, it creates an atmosphere that effectively evokes the feelings of helpless vulnerability that are familiar to so many of us, queer or straight alike, when we return to the scenes of a youth that we longed to escape.

For some viewers, in fact, the film’s constant feeling of low-frequency anxiety will likely be too much. For many, of course, it will hit close to home, and trigger traumatic memories; for those who can’t relate, it may all seem a bit too “doom and gloom,” and others might see its respectful treatment of a trans narrative as being agenda-driven or even dismiss it as “woke” – though truthfully, those who might do that are not likely to be watching it in the first place. 

Which is not to say that “Close to You” is a complete downer; there are plenty of uplifting moments, too, when connections shine through and we are reminded that, underneath all the confusion and misunderstandings that have strained Sam’s relations with his family, there is love – even if the characters themselves may not feel it in that moment. Nor does it put all the focus of his emotional wariness on his transness; on the contrary, much of the conflict is focused on feelings of isolation, of being judged for having a different focus to his life than the rest of his very traditional family, and other things which make him “different” that have nothing to do with his gender. It celebrates the value of “found” family in the glimpses it gives us of Sam’s other relationships, and even gives us a spark of unexpected romance. In many ways, it might even be seen as a “feel-good” movie, were it not for the sense of unanswered sadness that underpins it all.

That, perhaps, is what makes it resonate not just as a trans story (though it is certainly first and foremost that) but one about queer experience overall: the knowledge that, no matter what positive changes are made or how fully one embraces one’s truth and identity, there will always be people who will judge you for who you are. The problem isn’t within you – it’s within them, so it’s something you can’t fix, and there’s a sense of powerlessness that comes from that.

In the cultural climate that has been suddenly thrust upon us in America, that’s undoubtedly a realization that has been haunting many of our thoughts about who we can trust in a society that has repeatedly shown its willingness to cast us out. It’s for this reason that “Close to You” carries an additional impact for queer audiences that might have been intended at the time of its making; after all, that uncle across the Thanksgiving table may have treated you perfectly well your whole life, but when you know that his love for you was less than his concern over the price of groceries, it’s hard to trust him again – and we’ve just been given a sobering reminder that there is a chillingly large percentage of our friends and neighbors for whom the same can now be said.

“Close to You” premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival in 2023, and was released in Canada and the UK earlier this year, along with limited screenings in the U.S. It’s now available for home viewing via multiple VOD platforms.

Content Warning: Mentions of hate, gender-based violence.

Trans Day of Remembrance is coming up this Nov. 20, preceded by the Trans Week of Awareness from Nov. 13 to 19.

This year has been full of grief for the transgender community across the country. In 2024 alone, the Human Rights Campaign has kept track of 27 transgender and gender-expansive people across the United States who died of violent causes, such as gun or intimate partner violence. According to the Los Angeles District Attorney’s Office Hate Crime Report on data from 2022, 44 anti-trans hate crimes were the highest number ever recorded in the county, surpassing 42 in 2019. The county crimes had a large rate of violence as well at 91 percent. TDOR seeks to honor the lives of people lost to this type of circumstance.

For those unfamiliar with the history, Trans Day of Remembrance started in 1998 with Gwendolyn Ann Smith. According to Vogue Magazine, the trans writer and activist heard of Black trans woman Rita Hester’s murder in Boston in an online forum, and found the case was greatly similar to that of another Black trans woman who had been killed in Boston in 1995, Chanel Pickett. Realizing a need for documentation, Smith created the Remembering Our Dead web project to track instances of violence against the trans community.

In 1999, trans community members in both San Francisco and Boston used the web project as source material to coordinate candlelight vigils, creating the November holiday.

“I am no stranger to the need to fight for our rights, and the right to simply exist is first and foremost,” Smith said. “With so many seeking to erase transgender people — sometimes in the most brutal ways possible — it is vitally important that those we lose are remembered, and that we continue to fight for justice.”

If you’re looking to pay your respects or be in community with others, here are a few events to attend. Allies welcome.

November 15, 6 p.m.: The Trans Advisory Board in West Hollywood is hosting a small reception and ceremony at the WeHo City Council Chambers. For more details, visit weho.org/lgbtq

November 20, 3 to 6 p.m.: Cal State L.A., is hosting a resource fair with music, vendors, and more to celebrate and commemorate the trans community. Find more information on their event page. 

November 20, 4 p.m.: L.A. Civil Rights Department, Trans Advisory Council and the office of Councilwoman Traci Park are hosting a gathering at City Hall. Guests are invited to join an evening of reflection and community. Register for free through this form.

November 20, 5 to 7 p.m.: The queer and trans connect team at Latino Equality Alliance is hosting a special event inviting community members to bring photos for their TDOR altar and enjoy light refreshments. Find more details and register for the event for free through their online form. 

San Jose State University’s women volleyball team has collected yet another W by forfeit — its seventh so far this season — as controversy swirls around one player on its roster. She’s one of the seniors, and she has been dragged in the media by her own co-captain, who outed her as transgender. 

The Washington Blade is not naming this student athlete since neither she nor the school have confirmed or even commented on her gender identity.

SJSU visited San Diego last weekend for a match before the Aztecs’ biggest home crowd of the season — including protesters waving “Save Women’s Sports” banners and booing one player on the Spartans team in particular: The woman who is reported to be trans. 

Security was tight, with metal detectors and extra guards and police officers present. Video posted to YouTube by a right-wing sports media site — which names the player — shows an angry fan arguing with security about his First Amendment rights. 

Video recorded during Nov. 9’s game shows a player for San Diego was injured following a spike by the player rumored to be trans, and had to be helped off the court. However, the video clearly shows that player was injured by landing poorly on one foot, not as a result of the spike. 

The Aztecs defeated the Spartans 3-1, but San Jose has still punched its ticket to the conference finals, thanks to its record number of forfeits. 

Wyoming was set to visit SJSU Thursday, but for the second time is joining other universities that have forfeited games against the Spartans, all without providing a reason. Boise State announced it will forfeit an upcoming match set for Nov. 21, its second forfeit against SJSU. 

In September, the Spartans’ co-captain, senior Brooke Slusser, outed her own teammate, the player at the center of this controversy, in joining a federal lawsuit against the NCAA spearheaded by anti-trans inclusion activist and former college athlete Riley Gaines.  

Slusser said in the lawsuit and in subsequent interviews that the player in question shouldn’t be on her team. The suit claims the NCAA’s policy on trans athletes violates Title IX by allowing “men” to compete in women’s sports and use women’s locker rooms where they display “full male genitalia.”  

The NCAA policy for trans athletes participating in women’s volleyball aligns with that of USA Volleyball, which requires trans female athletes to suppress their testosterone below 10 nmol/L for a period of one year before competition. That is also how the NCAA determines eligibility. SJSU has stated repeatedly that all its players are eligible. 

The lawsuit also asks the NCAA to revoke any titles or records won by trans female athletes in women’s competitions, which seems to be specifically aimed at stripping out trans NCAA champions Lia Thomas and CeCé Telfer of their titles in swimming and track and field, respectively. 

Prior to this season, the player rumored to be trans did not attract any attention other than being a successful starter, like Slusser. But now that she is in the media spotlight, Slusser has come forward to tell right wing media, including Megyn Kelly, why she feels another woman two inches taller than she is poses a danger. 

“I don’t feel safe,” Slusser said on “The Megyn Kelly Show” last month. “I’ve gone to my coaches and said I refuse to play against [her] … It’s not safe.”

In the video, both Kelly and Slusser refer to the player as “him” and a “man,” and name her. 

Now comes another twist: San Jose State University suspended associate head coach Melissa Batie-Smoose with pay, indefinitely, after she filed a Title IX complaint against SJSU. She claims the player Slusser identified as trans conspired with an opponent to help the team lose a match and injure Slusser. Batie-Smoose named the player in question in her complaint and on Sept. 23, joined the same lawsuit that Slusser is now a part of. 

“Safety is being taken away from women,” Batie-Smoose told Fox News. “Fair play is taken away from women. We need more and more people to do this and fight this fight because women’s sports, as we know it right now will be forever changed.”

Media reporting on the suspension, including Fox News, continue to name the athlete in question, with some also reporting what they say is the athlete’s birth name. 

San Jose State released a statement following the suspension of Batie-Smoose: “The associate head coach of the San Jose State University women’s volleyball team is not with the team at this time, and we will not provide further information on this matter,” the team said.

SJSU Coach Todd Kress told ESPN that reports saying that any member of the Spartans colluded with their opponent are “littered with lies.” 

The Spartans are currently among the top six finishers in the Mountain West Conference that will qualify to compete in the conference tournament scheduled for Nov. 27-30. 

‘American Teenager’
By Nico Lang
c.2024, Abrams Press
$30/288 pages

In great-grandma’s day, they hooked.

They were high-topped and dainty, too, to show off a tiny, cheeky-but-demure ankle beneath long skirts. These days, though, they Velcro, tie, strap, or you just slip your toes into whatever you put on your feet. You gotta wear your shoes but, as in the new book “American Teenager” by Nico Lang, you wish someone would walk a mile in them first.

Seven-hundred-plus.

That’s how many anti-gay, anti-trans bills were presented to state legislatures around the country last year, many aimed at minors. As if being a teenager isn’t hard enough. With this in mind, Lang shadowed seven trans kids, to find out how they and their families cope with our current political landscape.

Fifteen-year-old South Dakotan Wyatt is in 10th grade. He knows that the lawmakers in his state “will just keep turning up the boil” on trans bills and it makes him physically sick. When Lang asked Wyatt to describe himself, Wyatt couldn’t do it, as if, says Lang, he was “still in transit, not yet arrived.”

Near Birmingham, Rhydian is a good student at the Magic City Acceptance Academy, the only school in the South that specifically welcomes LGBTQ students, and he enjoys the deep love and support of his parents and grandmother. But he’s frustrated: Rhydian’s been waiting for months for top surgery, which has been put on hold for reasons that are political.

Mykah identifies as gender-fluid, Black, and bi-racial and they desperately dream of a future performing career. In Houston, Ruby’s beloved church held a re-naming ceremony for her when she turned 18. Seventeen-year-old trans boy Clint is Muslim, and has managed to avoid scrutiny from his Chicago mosque.

Jack, along with her mother and nonbinary sibling, Augie, were homeless before their mother finally managed to find housing; in the meantime, Jack lost her health care. And in Los Angeles, Kylie has health care, support, friends, and an activist mother.

She has advantages that most trans kids can only wish for – and she knows it.

Acne. Peer pressure. Social media. Being a teen has always been difficult, even without anti-LGBTQ legislation. In this fine work of journalism, author Nico Lang shows how a handful of kids in one group are coping with governmental policies and life in general.

Hint: you can expect the unexpected.

“American Teenager” shows the highs and lows of being a teen with the added stress of politics included – and here, the individuality inside the ordinary is striking and wonderful. Lang is careful to show how these are just typical kids – good-hearted, smart, funny, sarcastic – and it rings throughout each profile how much the discrimination they endure affects their lives and relationships. That’s a clarion call, absolutely, but readers who can see between the lines will also enjoy this book’s humor, it’s compassion, and the sheer joy of meeting decent, thoughtful teens.

Parents will like this book for its candor, and that goes doubly for adults who love a trans kid. Start “American Teenager” and before long, you’ll be hooked.

The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.

If you are anywhere in the Queer rainbow and you grew up as a Catholic, it’s possible — if not likely — that your relationship with that religious institution might be, to put it mildly, conflicted.

Though there are voices within the church establishment today that endorse official acceptance of LGBTQ people and support their equality, for most of its history that has not been the case. Yet, it has also represented a sort of sanctuary for queer people who could avoid the otherwise socially mandated expectations around sexuality and gender by excluding themselves from the conversation — through ordainment into the service of the church and the convenient vow of celibacy that came with it.

While such a path may not be appealing to most queer spiritual seekers today, the church still looms large in the psyche of those brought up in its traditions, and revelations about the vast record of sexual abuse that has taken place behind its sanctified veil have only complicated things further. That’s one reason why the queer appeal of “Conclave” — the buzzy screen adaptation of Robert Harris’s 2016 novel from director Edward Berger — cannot be denied; perhaps, in some fictionalized story about the inner workings of the church at its highest level, some resolution might be found to the centuries-old struggle between sexuality and religious faith.

Packed into a brisk two-hour running time, it wastes not a single frame in conveying its narrative, which chronicles the election of a new Pope after the sudden death of the old one and explores the labyrinthine politics that underlie that highly secretive process. Tasked by his role as Dean of the College of Cardinals to preside over it all is Cardinal Lawrence (Ralph Fiennes), a stoic thinker whose recent resignation from his position over a crisis of faith was rejected by the late pontiff himself; nevertheless committed to conducting the titular proceedings — and hoping to advance the progressive vision of his church’s future represented by popular candidate Cardinal Bellini (Stanley Tucci) — he tackles his responsibilities with a full sense of commitment.

It’s a task that will require all his unbiased wisdom to complete. In direct opposition to Bellini is Cardinal Tedesco (Sergio Castellitto), a reactionary traditionalist who wants to return the church to the policies of its ancient past, with more “centrist” candidates Tremblay (John Lithgow) and Adeyami (Lucian Msamati) bringing additional layers of political nuance to the voting process. With the various contenders trying to manipulate the outcome in their favor and an unforeseen influence rising in the form of newly appointed Cardinal Benitez (Carlos Diehz), Lawrence must set aside his worldly concerns and seek the guidance he needs not only from his keen intellect and understanding of human nature, but from the very faith he struggles with, as well.

Constructed like an old-fashioned potboiler, a mystery set in the halls of power and woven through with political intrigue and private ambition, “Conclave” plays like the kind of classic Hollywood “prestige” movie guaranteed to stir liberal sentiments while couching them in a socially aware yet entertaining yarn. Like most dramas set within a religious context, it invites speculation about the “hidden hand” of the Almighty behind the story, providing an entry point for audiences seeking reassurance about their beliefs in the midst of all the skullduggery, and even delivering an ending that allows the devout to remain steadfast to their faith; it blends philosophical and intellectual sophistication into the kind of thriller which, like the stylized “whodunnits” of Agatha Christie, unearths all manner of human corruption behind the pomp and decorum of a fiercely protected status quo as it inexorably works its way to a clever and satisfying finish — shepherded by Lawrence, standing in for the more worldly “master detectives” created by Christie and other authors of her genre thanks to his sharp intellect and shrewd observational skills. As such, it inevitably provides the expected twists, hidden secrets, and clandestine alliances through which the “mystery” will eventually be traced, and while we can’t always see where it’s headed, it steeps us in a comfortable familiarity that feels predictable anyway.

Still, that’s not entirely a bad thing; the sum effect of “Conclave” rises far above its generic structure, and makes it easy to forgive its tendency toward formula-dictated storytelling. That’s partly due to Berger’s direction, which sculpts the movie’s overall impact through its meticulous attention to detail, immersing us in its world with a near-tactile depiction of the rarified Vatican environment — aided immeasurably by the exquisitely moody cinematography of Stéphane Fontaine, who delivers a richly intimate yet tantalizingly dark setting immersed in the kind of deep shadows that seem to invite conspiracy  — while putting an unwavering focus on the internal narrative of its characters and the sometimes murky motives that drive them. It’s also thanks to the screenplay by Peter Straughan, which crafts those characters as much through what they choose not to say as by what they do, while skillfully using them to explore culturally-relevant themes about the corrupting influence of power and the antiquated prejudices that still hold sway within its cloistered walls.

Most of all, however, the film’s ability to grip us and draw us in rests upon its actors, most particularly Fiennes, already an odds-on favorite for this year’s Best Actor Oscar, who gives a career-best performance as Lawrence, turning a character who might easily seem too good to be true into a layered, relatable “Everyman” that has our instinctive loyalty from the first moment we meet him. Tucci, Lithgow, and Msamati all have standout moments, and Diehz shines as the quiet and unassuming Benitez — but it’s Isabella Rossellini who almost walks away with “Conclave” with her largely silent performance as a Vatican nun who says very little but sees and hears everything.

All this A-list quality certainly succeeds in making Berger’s movie into an engaging, intelligent, and visually impressive piece of populist cinema; and even if its twisty-and-interconnected plot developments sometimes stand out as a little too apt to be believable, its strong points far outweigh those mainstream “compromises.” Still, what likely has made “Conclave” into the first must-see title of awards season is more about what is happening offscreen rather than off. Much of the Papal election it portrays reflects hard-to-miss parallels with the real-life presidential election (which, at the time of this writing, had yet to take place), from the sharp divide between progressive ideals and regressive conservatism to the entrenched misogyny, racism, and homophobia that inserts itself into the process everything about this fictional Catholic thriller reminds us of the American political campaigns of 2024. And as for specific relevance for queer audiences, we don’t like spoilers — but we can venture to say that at least a few of the film’s surprise developments have a profound resonance with LGBTQ concerns.

Of course, that might not be enough by itself to add this one to your watchlist; but there’s enough food for thought to be found in it that it is worth your while, no matter what.

 “Conclave” is now playing in theaters.

Infinity Festival brings together art, innovative technology and creative thinking, to the intersection of the Hollywood entertainment industry. This year, the event is taking place at The Avalon Hollywood, Nov 6 through Nov 9. 

The event founders, Mark Lieber and Adam Newman, created this space to bring together Hollywood’s creative visionaries, with Silicon Valley’s cutting-edge technology. 

Mark and Adam are not only business partners, but life partners too. 

“We met at a party in the Paramount lot and that was 28 years ago,” said Adam. “We worked separately for many, many years and when our careers started to change a bit, we came together to develop projects in television through a company that we formed.”

The two decided to marry in 2014, soon after it became legal to do so in California after Prop 8 was successfully ruled unconstitutional and same-sex couples were allowed to marry. 

“We live together, so work is 24/7 and we often get into situations where I have to ask Mark not to talk about work after one o’clock in the morning because I need to go to sleep,” said Adam. 

The two set out on a mission to unite their complementary strengths and creative visions, to bring together this innovative festival that spotlights the foremost cutting-edge technologies in the entertainment industry. 

This year’s festival will feature prominent voices from the technology, gaming and entertainment industries. The festival will also feature Julien’s Auction, presenting over 200 collectibles from Star Trek on exhibition throughout the festival and then culminating in a live auction on Saturday at 10AM. 

The festival’s purpose is to display and discuss the future of technology and its intersection with the gaming and entertainment industries using Artificial Intelligence, Virtual Reality and Augmented Reality.

The festival features keynote speeches, collaborative demonstrations with partners like Sony, HP, Verizon and Intel.

The panels will feature discussions on the evolution of animation, cross-media development, virtual effects, gaming production and many other topics.

“We’re not there to talk about how scary AI is, but to talk about how it’s going to be a wonderful tool to push the entertainment business into a broader scope of technology,” said Adam in an interview with Los Angeles Blade. 

Mark addressed the concerns that many people have regarding AI taking jobs in the entertainment industry, specifically Hollywood. 

The major points of discussion and demonstration at Infinity Festival include: Generative AI, Utility AI, Procedural AI, Mini Labs- Scripted & Unscripted, Machine Learning, Ethics, Natural Language Processing, Computer Vision (AR, Spatial Computing), Deep Learning and Expert Systems.

Earlier this year, Gov. Newsom singed AB 896, the Generative Artificial Intelligence Accountability Act, into law. 

“We are talking to people who are using it in a way that won’t eliminate creative jobs, but maximize efficiency,” said Adam. 

There is a lot of fear and anxiety surrounding job loss to AI, but Adam reassures festival attendees that learning about how to work in tandem with AI, will be beneficial to productivity and that this is a good thing for many of these industries and their many job functions. 

“I look forward to seeing everybody, I mean really, it’s just a great group of people and bring these two groups of tech and production together,” said Mark.  

(Photo Courtesy of Mark and Adam) Adam (L) and Mark (R), have been married for over 10 years and together they dedicate their careers toward making Infinity Festival a success for the entertainment, gaming and tech industries.

Mark and Adam created the festival in 2018, but they have been married for 10 years. They got married shortly after it became legal in California in 2013. 

They both came from a background in entertainment, Mark has experience in executive roles and Adam had experience in Hollywood production. They came together, married and in 2017, when both of their careers were taking a different path, they decided to start Infinity Festival. 

Since then, they have worked together to bring forth the best and latest technology to their events and bridge the gap between industries that will continue to incorporate AI into their systems.

The Monolith Awards this year will happen on Friday, Nov 8 at 7:30PM at The Aster. There are various categories for the Monolith Awards; Gaming Tech: Audio-Driven Narrative, Excellence in User Experience, Visionary Innovation, Live Engagement, Jurors Choice: New Media Fine Art, Audience Award for Best of Fest Popular Vote, Next Gen: Student + Teacher, and the Nexus Award: Excellence in Applied Technology.

TEL AVIV, Israel — The Washington Blade was on assignment in Israel from Oct. 4-14, 2024. 

The Blade covered the first anniversary of Oct. 7, and interviewed the cousin of a woman who Hamas militants killed after they kidnapped her and her sister-in-law. The Blade also interviewed the widow of a gay Israel Defense Forces soldier who spearheaded efforts to amend the country’s Bereaved Families Law to recognize LGBTQ widows and widowers of fallen servicemembers.

Activists in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, and Be’er Sheva also spoke with the Blade.

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The Blade could not access Al Jazeera’s website in Israel. 

The Israeli government in May banned the Qatar-based network from working in the country, and shut down its bureaus in East Jerusalem and Nazareth, a predominantly Arab city in northern Israel. A judge in June extended the ban for 45 days. Israeli soldiers on Sept. 22 raided Al Jazeera’s bureau in Ramallah, the Palestinian capital, and ordered its closure for 45 days. (Washington Blade screenshot by Michael K. Lavers)

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Emmy-nominated actress Nava Mau, was this year’s honoree at GuadaLAjara Film Festival, receiving the Árbol De LA Vida Humanitarian Lifetime Achievement Award during the opening night at Downtown Los Angeles’ Million Dollar Theatre.

“I think right now, I’m sitting in what it means to be a trans Latina and have the support of my community–beginning, middle and end,” said Mau in an interview with Los Angeles Blade on the carpet at Guadalajara Film Festival. “There is nothing else like that.” 

Mau is an Emmy-nominated actress known for her groundbreaking performance on the 2024 UK Netflix hit-series, Baby Reindeer. 

Bamby Salcedo, the CEO and co-founder of the TransLatin@ Coalition, presented the award to Mau at the Opening Night Awards Ceremony. Salcedo has been a previous Trailblazer Award recipient and is now passing on the torch to Mau, another trailblazing, trans, Latina. 

“Yeah, I think that it’s surreal, because I met her when I was 21 and I was so young and really feeling the weight of the road on my shoulders, and she is somebody who I saw as a beacon of light. I saw her as someone who is self-actualized and as someone who unites people every single day,” said Mau. 

Mau says that she is always in awe of Salcedo and feels that it is humbling to even be considered worthy of receiving the award from her. 

“I am just incredibly honored and grateful that I get to be here in this festival to present Nava Mau with the El Árbol de LA Vida Trailblazer Award, which I have been a recipient of in previous years,” said Salcedo. 

Salcedo was the recipient of the award in 2022 and is now passing the torch to Mau. Salcedo has known Mau since she was very young and takes pride in having seen her grow and blossom into the person she is today. She sees this moment as a full-circle moment in her life and in her career as a trailblazing activist. 

“I’ve seen her grow and I’m seeing her talent blossoming in the industry,” said Salcedo. “And that is just so beautiful and I am just so grateful and honored that I get to do that.” 

Both trailblazing, trans, Latinas have used their struggles and lived experiences as an opportunity to unite their communities and ignite change. 

“I want to say to all the beautiful people who are listening–particularly young transgender, gender nonconforming, intersex and queer people–to shine their light and walk their path as they are supposed to,” said Salcedo. “And I want them to know that they are not alone. There are organizations like the Trans Latin@ Coalition and other organizations that are doing critical work so you can have a better life and for you to understand that you do have a place in our society.” 

Salcedo urges queer and trans youth to take up the space they are entitled to and to know that there are people like her and Mau, that will not back down from paving the paths that still have yet to be paved. 

GuadaLAjara Film Festival took place this year on Nov 1 through Nov 3, at multiple venues across the city. The opening night for the festival took place at the historic Million Dollar Theatre in Downtown Los Angeles. 

Diane Guerrero was also honored at the opening night. She is known for her roles in Disney’s Encanto, Netflix’s Orange is the New Black and Jane the Virgin.

The opening night of the film festival also featured a screening of Sujo, Mexico’s official entry for the 2025 Oscars. 

When Finnish-British filmmaker Mikko Mäkelä’s film “Sebastian” premiered at the 2024 Sundance Festival, he told Variety he wanted his movie to provide a “frank and honest portrayal of queer sexuality.” That’s surely enough to lure queer audiences – particularly gay male audiences, thanks to its gay male protagonist – with the promise of steamy onscreen sex, and his movie, now available on VOD platforms after a limited theatrical release, certainly delivers on it. 

That, however, is only half (perhaps less) of what it’s all about, because, like its title character, it lives in two worlds at once.

In fact, “Sebastian” isn’t even his real name. He’s actually Max (Ruaridh Mollica), an aspiring writer who works a “survival job” at a literary magazine while working on his first novel – a “pseudo-memoir” chronicling a gay sex worker’s encounters with various clients. It’s not exactly “pseudo,” though; the experiences he writes about are real, gained by advertising himself on a website for gay escorts to obtain “research” for his book. The results are getting him noticed, and a publisher (Leanne Best) is interested in the completed manuscript – but he finds his focus being pulled away from his “real” life and deeper into the anonymous thrill of exploring his own sexuality in the safety of an assumed identity.

It’s not just his work that’s affected; among the other things that begin to suffer from his growing obsession are his relationships: with his co-worker and bestie, fellow aspiring writer Amna (Hiftu Quasem); with his conservative mother back in Edinburgh, who already disapproves of his lifestyle in faraway, hedonistic London; and to a much older client (Jonathan Hyde) with whom “Sebastian” has developed an unexpected emotional attachment. Most of all, it’s his own sense of identity that is caught in the conflict, as he tries to keep both sides of his double life together while preventing his whole world from falling apart.

It’s a story with a lot of irons on the fire – a quality it seems to share with the novel its protagonist is writing, much to the irritation of his would-be publisher. What begins as the saga of a fledgling male escort – we first meet Max during his first booking as “Sebastian,” after all, suggesting almost from the start that it is this persona that is our true protagonist – soon shifts into that of an ambitious-but-frustrated young author attempting to fuel his creativity through lived experience, laced with the ongoing thread of his own sexual awakening and self-acceptance. It even makes overtures toward an unexpected (and unorthodox) love story, before venturing down a darker path to become something of a cautionary tale, a warning against the dangers of leading a compartmentalized existence and allowing the gratification of one’s personal appetites to overshadow all the other facets of our lives. Along the way, it throws in some commentary about the tense dynamic between creative expression and commercialism in the arts, not to mention the reinforcement of stigma and negative attitudes around sex workers – and sex in general – through the perceptions and representations created by social traditions and popular culture.

This latter perspective might be the key to what is really at the heart of “Sebastian” all along, toward which Mäkelä’s screenplay hints with a description of Max’s work-in-progress as being about “the shame of being ashamed.” From the beginning, it is his own fear of being found out that becomes his greatest obstacle; far more than his reluctance to cross lines he’s been raised to respect, it’s the dread of having his reputation and his prospects shattered that causes him to waver in his path – and that feeling is not unfounded, which is in itself a telling indicator that the power of social judgment is a very real force when it comes to living our authentic lives. Indeed, his personal taboos are quick to fall away as he pursues his undercover “research”, but the guilt he feels about being caught in a social position perceived as “beneath” his own is something he cannot shrug off so easily. With so many generations of religious and societal dogma behind them, such imperatives are hard to ignore.

Yet, there’s yet another aspect of “Sebastian” to discuss, that, while it is self-evident in the very premise of Mäkelä’s movie, might be easy to overlook in the midst of all these other themes. A story about someone pretending to be someone else is inherently about deception, and Max, regardless of his motives, is a deceiver. He deceives his clients to obtain the material for his writing, and he deceives his employers and his publisher about where he gets it; he deceives the people closest to him, he deceives potential romantic partners – but more than anyone else, he deceives himself.

It’s only by becoming honest with oneself, of course, that one can truly find a way to reconcile the opposing sides of our own nature, and that is the challenge “Sebastian” sets up for its protagonist, no matter which name he is going by in the moment. Whether or not he meets it is something we won’t spoil, but we’ll go as far as saying that a breakthrough comes only when Max is forced by circumstance to follow his instincts and “get honest” with someone – though we won’t tell you who.

In the end, “Sebastian” satisfies as a character study, and as a journey of self-acceptance, largely thanks to a charismatic, layered, thoroughly authentic performance from Mollica, a Scots-Italian actor of tremendous range who convincingly captures both sides of Max’s persona and transcends them to create a character that incorporates each into a relatable – if not always entirely likable – whole. Mäkelä’s steady, clear-eyed direction helps, as does the equally dignified and vulnerable performance from veteran character actor Hyde, whose chemistry with Mollica is as surprising as the relationship they portray in the film.

Even so, “Sebastian” suffers from the many balls it attempts to keep in the air. Though it aims for sex-positive messaging and an empathetic view of sex work, it often devolves into the kind of dramatic tropes that perpetuate an opposite view, sending mixed messages about whether it’s trying to diffuse old stereotypes or simply reinvent them for a modern age of “digital hustlers.” Further, in its effort to offer an unfiltered presentation of queer sexuality, it spends perhaps a bit more screen time than necessary showing it to us as explicitly as possible while omitting all but a glimpse of full-frontal nudity, but just enough to conjure the word “gratuitous.”

Don’t get us wrong, though; Mäkelä’s movie – only his second feature film effort to date – is an engaging, sexy, and ultimately thought-provoking ride, even if its tangled ambitions sometimes get the better of its narrative thrust, and it comes with our recommendation.

It’s just that, one of these days, we’d really like to see a movie where sex work is honestly portrayed as a job, just like any other – but I guess we’ll have to wait until society is ready for it before we get that one.