Anybody who loves movies knows the thrill of returning to an old favorite for a repeat viewing; it allows us to appreciate things we missed before. Alternatively, re-watching a bad movie (or at least, one you disliked) can help you find a new perspective on it  – but that comes with the risk of discovering that it’s still bad, and then you’ve wasted a couple of hours that you’ll never get back.

But what if it’s a “bad” movie that is technically not the same movie anymore? Does it deserve another chance?

No, that’s not a riddle. It’s something to ponder before deciding to experience the newly re-edited and re-constructed 4K re-release of 1979’s “Caligula,” the notorious historical epic about the famously unhinged titular Roman emperor, which featured a boldly stylized reconstruction of its ancient Roman setting, a youthful Malcolm McDowell in the title role, and a roster of distinguished British actors adding their prestige in support. Controversial even before the cameras started rolling, it was an ambitious multi-national production that spared no expense in bringing the despot’s personal rise and fall to the screen in all its lavish and debauched glory – conceived by none other than porn magnate Bob Guccione, the founder and editor of Penthouse magazine.

As in its original form, helmed by Italian filmmaker Tinto Brass, the movie opens as Caligula – heir to the throne of his increasingly deranged great uncle, the Roman Emperor Tiberius, who rules from a private island sanctuary and spends most of his time satisfying his perverse sexual appetites – fears that the old man views him as a threat to his power and decides to get ahead of the problem by disposing of him first. This, of course, makes Caligula the new emperor, and from there the tale depicts a chronology of his reign, in which his own lust for power – and other things – transforms him into a depraved tyrant. That’s not great for Rome, of course, but it ends up even worse for Caligula. We won’t spoil what happens, but you can look it up in any history book about the Roman Empire if you want to know.

The production was, to put it mildly, a mess. Guccione hired Brass to direct, and contracted renowned author Gore Vidal to write the screenplay, only to wrangle with both over creative differences. Vidal was eventually fired, and Brass assigned to adapt his script – but in the end, conflicts over the approach to sexual content led Guccione to remove Brass from the process and hire a team of editors to assemble a final cut according to his own specifications. He also snuck into the studio after-hours to film additional scenes of un-simulated sex featuring several hand-picked “Penthouse Pets,” which were then inserted into the movie to provide the flavor of softcore eroticism he assumed audiences would expect from his “brand.”

He may have been right about the audiences – “Caligula” was a box-office hit, a status no doubt fueled by international outrage from conservatives who decried it as “pornographic.” The most expensive independent film in history, it made back its cost and then some – but critics largely tore Guccione’s long-in-the-works pet project apart (legendary film reviewer Roger Ebert famously walked out on it), and though it had its defenders, it quickly achieved status as a notably embarrassing “flop.”

Cinema lovers, however, have a habit of favorably reassessing the film failures of previous generations, and inevitably, “Caligula” gained a reputation over the years as just such a movie. Enter Thomas Negovan, a film historian who discovered nearly 100 hours of unused footage – rejected takes, deleted scenes, and other material abandoned in Guccione’s final vision for the film – and undertook a full re-creation of the originally conceived “Caligula” as far as was possible, replacing every frame of footage from the 1979 release with alternate takes and reincorporating abandoned elements to create a stunningly restored new version in an effort to realize screenwriter Vidal’s original conception as closely as possible.

The resulting film, dubbed the “Ultimate Cut,” premiered at 2023’s Cannes Film Festival, where it earned praise from critics who cited its success in restoring both the movie’s artistic integrity and thematic cohesion, as well as its expanded showcase of the strong performances from McDowell (fresh from his breakthrough “Clockwork Orange” role when cast here) and future Oscar-winner Helen Mirren, as Caligula’s wife Caesonia. It restores at least some of Vidal’s intended theme highlighting the corruption that comes with absolute power – though not the openly gay author’s stronger emphasis on queer sexuality, a major point of contention with Guccione despite his willing inclusion of explicit same-sex and bisexual intimacy. Those moments largely take place as part of the background, a scenic element establishing the moral decadence of its title character’s reign and presenting a fetishized representation of queer coupling that – like all of the movie’s sex – seems more performative than passionate.

Even so, it’s a better film than it was, particularly in a restored print that emphasizes the rich color of Silvano Ippoliti’s cinematography and the “seventies chic” re-imagination of Ancient Rome by production designer Danilo Donati. McDowell’s performance, seen in its fleshed-out entirety for the first time, reclaims a coherent arc that was lost in the original cut, while Mirren’s work is similarly expanded to reveal a layered nuance that somehow anchors the movie’s extremities to a recognizable humanity. Additionally, Negovian’s work in de- and re-constructing the original film is praiseworthy for its meticulous devotion to delivering a unified whole.

At the same time, there are missteps that alternative footage can’t correct. “Caligula” still plays like a confused art house costume drama duped into becoming an exploitation film. Gratuitous sex and over-the-top violence are still the predominant tactics for eliciting audience response, and while the “star” performances – even legendary ham Peter O’Toole’s Tiberius, a case study in untethered-yet-irresistible overacting – and an elegantly trashy visual aesthetic lend it a semblance of artistic dignity, it can’t quite overcome the disingenuousness inherent in its blend of “serious” themes with blatantly exploitative underpinnings.

All of which begs the same question presented by the classic thought experiment called “The Ship of Theseus,” which asks us to contemplate whether a vessel that has had all of its parts replaced over time can still be considered the same vessel. It’s a moot point, however, because “Caligula” – disavowed even in its new incarnation by director Brass – is still plagued by the creative conflicts that marred its production. Its various elements seem to work at confused cross purposes, undermining any effort to impose a genuine sense of depth or artistic unity and leaving us with something that, despite the earnest contributions of many of its participants, still feels like a cynical effort to pass off porn by dressing it up as art.

Not that we’re judging that; in fact, we’re encouraging you to catch “Caligula: the Ultimate Cut” during its road show rollout in theaters, which commenced earlier this month, before it releases on VOD and streaming platforms later on. It might still be trash, but it’s sumptuous trash, and that’s always worth seeing on the big screen.

‘Free to Be: Understanding Kids & Gender Identity’
By Jack Turban, MD
c.2024, Atria
$29.99/304 pages

‘My Child is Trans, Now What?’
By Ben V. Greene
c.2024, Rowman & Littlefield
$26.95/203 pages

Your child has recently told you a secret that they can’t hold tight anymore.

You’ve suspected what they’re about to say for a long time. When they were small, they weren’t like other children. They may have even told you what they were thinking, even before they knew it themselves. But now you know, for sure, and so, going forward, you’re the loving parent of a child who’s trans, and there’s a learning curve.

These two books might help.

Surely, you must think that there has to be some science behind gender and identity, right? In “Free to Be: Understanding Kids & Gender Identity” by Jack Turban, MD (Atria, $29.99), you’ll follow the lives and struggles of three trans and gender diverse kids, Kyle, Sam, and Meredith, as Turban explains what science knows about genetics and sexuality.

To gain a basic understanding of the subject, says Turban, we need to look back in history to see how gender identity was perceived in the past and the attitudes that our ancestors held. He then touches upon language and “misnaming,” how social constructs attempt to set a child’s gender identity before it’s fully known, and why mothers often catch “blame” for something that’s never anyone’s “fault.” Further information on biology, puberty blockers, gender reassignment surgery for young trans people, and the “politics” of gender diversity round out this book nicely.

For the parent who wants a deeper dive into what makes their child tick and what they can do to make that kid’s life easier, this compassionate book is the one to read.

If you’re just finding out that your child is trans, then “My Child is Trans, Now What?” by Ben V. Greene (Rowman & Littlefield, $26.95) is a book to reach for now.

Beginning with the things you’ll want to know and understand immediately, this book is assuring and soothing – look, and you’ll see the word “joy” in its subtitle. Greene calls trans kids “VIPs,” and he means it, which sets a relaxing tone for what’s to come here.

In sharing his own experiences, Greene stresses that every trans experience is different, and he touches often upon his coming out. This launches discussions on topics like bathrooms, therapy (if you or your VIP want it), finding support, the politics of being trans, the stressors of medical treatment, and what it might be like to have even brief regrets. Greene finishes his book with advice on getting an education and living as a trans person.

“My Child is Trans, Now What?” is truly more of a book for parents and loved ones of trans teens or young adults. What’s in here goes well beyond childhood, so be aware before you reach for it on the shelf. And if these books aren’t enough, or don’t quite fit what you need, be sure to ask your favorite bookseller or librarian for more. In recent years, more and more authors have been willing to share their own journeys, making the transition one that doesn’t have to be so secret anymore.

Sometimes, casting the right person in a role can make or break a movie.

Consider “Cuckoo,” the buzzy horror film now in theaters nationwide, which turns a formulaic premise into an edgy and provocative thriller thanks to the presence of lead player Hunter Schafer, the breakout trans co-star of HBO’s acclaimed “Euphoria.” Her role might have been played by any young actress of appropriate age and sufficient talent, but carries a much more palpable weight both because of what she brings to it and because of how her director –  sophomore German feature-filmmaker Tilman Singer (“Luz”) – chooses to present her.

That role is Gretchen (Schafer), an American teen raised by her recently deceased mother and now forced to move in with her father (Marton Csokas) and his new family just as they relocate to a remote town in the Bavarian Alps, where the owner of a resort he designed wants him to work on an expansion. Already feeling like a stranger within the household – which, besides dad’s second wife (Jessica Henwick), includes a perplexingly mute young stepsister, Alma (Mila Lieu), who has begun to experience unexplained seizure-like episodes since Gretchen’s arrival – and still grieving the loss of her mom, she’s not thrilled about the added isolation of living in a remote and sleepy mountain town. Making matters worse are her misgivings about the resort and the community that surrounds it, not to mention the vaguely threatening vibe she seems to sense behind the benevolent manner of Herr König (Dan Stevens), her dad’s overly polite and aggressively gracious boss. 

Suspecting that things here are not entirely what they seem, she resolves to run away, but a successful escape requires money – so when König offers her a job at the reception desk, she takes it despite her better instincts. Naturally, this puts her right in the cross-hairs of whatever ominous conspiracy may be surrounding her, something she realizes when she disregards warnings never to stay at the resort after dark and narrowly escapes an attack from a terrifying figure in the woods. Though local authorities dismiss the incident as a prank, she is soon approached by the police chief himself (Jan Bluthardt), who is conducting a secret investigation of his own and seeks her help.

We won’t reveal what they find out, exactly; it’s enough to say that things revolve around a secret project to preserve a local species with an unusual means of reproduction. Besides this and the fact that Singer’s film draws heavily on both body horror and sci-fi elements to spin its harrowing narrative, the only thing you need to know is that, like so many relationships on social media, it’s complicated.

That’s a double-edged observation; as Singer’s film begins to unwind the twisted tale at the core of its premise, the revelations come at us fast and furious, resulting in a feeling that there are too many “moving parts” of which we must keep track, and a subsequent decision that it is too much work to do so. This has less to do with the details surrounding the menacing (and possibly misunderstood) “presence” that provides much of the movie’s more visceral thrills than it does with the convoluted escalations of its plot; more plainly said, in crafting a suitably gripping climax the story devolves into an implausible B-movie showdown built on unlikely reversals and hard-to-bridge gaps of logic, with Stevens’s character essentially filling in for the mad scientist defending his lab against torch-wielding villagers bent on destroying his well-meaning but misguided experiment. As a result, it loses a good deal of steam – as well as some of the good will it earns with its intriguing premise and effectively orchestrated slow build toward the final act – before getting us to the big finale.

Fortunately, despite the messiness of its denouement, “Cuckoo” ends on a strong note. In the wake of what we’ll describe as its suitably apocalyptic endgame, it leaves us with the unexpected suggestion that the solution in overcoming a perceived threat to our existence lies not in extreme, all-or-nothing viewpoints, however passionately or understandingly they may be held, but in finding a middle path between them. The key, in Gretchen’s case, is attached to compassion and a feeling of shared humanity, and not in self-validating personal ideologies that are ultimately more about ourselves than the things we think we need to defend or protect.

If anything can be credited with rescuing Singer’s movie from its reliance on genre formalism and overcomplicated storytelling, it’s Schafer’s performance. She embodies Gretchen’s achingly recognizable teenage nihilism to a tee, tapping into a universal feeling of being on the “outside” and allowing it to fuel our engagement in her story even when the plot goes over the top and off the rails; but what makes her performance indispensable to Singer’s purpose is also what gives his film significance far beyond its measured success as a thriller. While Schafer is unequivocally a trans woman, Gretchen’s gender identity is never explicitly disclosed; though the “trans-ness” of the performer invites a valid interpretation of “Cuckoo” as an allegory about transphobia, or about the necessity for queer people to find “chosen families” to replace the ones into which they are born, these possible readings of the film exist among many others, and the character’s gender is ultimately irrelevant. Though admittedly, thanks to the involvement of another outsider, a female-presenting traveler named Ed (Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey) who shows up to provide Gretchen with a glimmer of hope and a potential escape route, there’s an unflinching queerness that underlies the film’s entire perspective.

Through that lens, Schafer’s work here represents a landmark in the sense that she has become a lead performer in a relatively prominent film as a trans actress in a role that neither addresses nor needs to address her gender. That’s nothing to be scoffed at, whether or not one can fully surrender to the grotesque pleasures of Singer’s unapologetically shock-centric script and direction, but what is perhaps more important – at least in terms of the work itself – is that she takes a familiar stock character (the “final girl”) and infuses it with the kind of depth worthy of an Oscar-bait performance in an A-list “prestige” film. She shines neither because of nor in spite of her trans identity; rather, she shines because of her talent.

It’s worth mentioning that Stevens works hard to overcome the melodramatic writing behind Herr König and, as much as possible, mostly succeeds; and while most of the film’s other performances are decidedly less “showy,” the entire cast manages to keep us engaged enough to accept the movie’s potentially campy (not the good kind) conceits. Likewise, even if his screenplay gets muddy for a while in the third quarter, Singer’s shrewdly balanced blend of genre tropes and artistic vision as a director never wavers, keeping us not only invested but thrilled by his style even during his movie’s silliest moments.

All that makes “Cuckoo” a great choice for a date night that can also be a not-so-guilty pleasure – and when it comes to the movies, you can’t ask for much more than that.

Author JK Rowling has been uncharacteristically silent on social media in the 24 hours since she and the world’s richest person — Elon Musk — reportedly were named in a criminal complaint filed with French authorities by a female Olympian boxer from Algeria. 

Variety reported on Tuesday that the lawsuit alleges they committed “acts of aggravated cyber harassment” against newly crowned Olympic champion Imane Khelif during the Paris Summer Games. Khelif is a woman who has been accused of being a man, of being transgender, and of cheating to compete in the Olympics. 

Nabil Boudi, the Paris-based attorney of Khelif, confirmed to Variety that both Musk and Rowling were mentioned in the complaint, which was posted on Aug. 9 to the anti-online hatred center of the Paris Prosecutor’s Office.

The Paris Prosecutor’s Office’s National Center for the Fight Against Online Hatred confirmed in a statement to Variety that it received the complaint filed by Khelif, and announced it had launched an investigation that would include anti-transgender comments by GOP presidential nominee Donald Trump. 

“On Aug. 13, (The National Center for the Fight Against Online Hatred) contacted the OCLCH (Central Office for the Fight Against Crimes Against Humanity and Hate Crimes) to conduct an investigation into the counts of cyber harassment due to gender, public insult because of gender, public incitement to discrimination and public insult because of origin.”

Although the lawsuit names “X,” that does not represent the social media platform owned by Musk that had been known as Twitter. Under French law, “X” means that the lawsuit was filed against unknown persons, to “ensure that the ‘prosecution has all the latitude to be able to investigate against all people,” including those who may have written hateful messages under pseudonyms, said Boudi.

“JK Rowling and Elon Musk are named in the lawsuit, among others,” he told Variety, and explained why Trump would be part of the investigation. “Trump tweeted, so whether or not he is named in our lawsuit, he will inevitably be looked into as part of the prosecution.”

Khelif won the Olympic gold medal in the women’s 66 kilogram boxing competition on Aug. 10 and has for weeks been the target of online hate over her gender eligibility. She was born female and does not identify as trans or intersex. The International Olympic Committee has stood by her, declaring, “scientifically, this is not a man fighting a woman.”

That didn’t deter Rowling, who told her 14.2 million followers Khelif was a man who was “enjoying the distress of a woman he’s just punched in the head.” Her post included a picture from Khelif’s fight with Italian boxer Angela Carini.

Could any picture sum up our new men’s rights movement better? The smirk of a male who’s knows he’s protected by a misogynist sporting establishment enjoying the distress of a woman he’s just punched in the head, and whose life’s ambition he’s just shattered. #Paris2024 pic.twitter.com/Q5SbKiksXQ

— J.K. Rowling (@jk_rowling) August 1, 2024

Musk shared a post from anti-trans activist and former college swimmer Riley Gaines that claimed “men don’t belong in women’s sports.” The owner of X, Tesla and SpaceX endorsed her message with one word: “Absolutely.”

Absolutely https://t.co/twccUEOW9e

— Elon Musk (@elonmusk) August 1, 2024

Trump posted a message on his own platform, Truth Social, with a picture from the fight with Carina accompanied by a promise in all-caps: “I will keep men out of women’s sports!”

“What we’re asking is that the prosecution investigates not only these people but whoever it feels necessary,” said Boudi. “If the case goes to court, they will stand trial.” He added that while the lawsuit was filed in France, “it could target personalities overseas,” pointing out that “the prosecutor’s office for combating online hate speech has the possibility to make requests for mutual legal assistance with other countries.” 

Among the potential other targets: Trump’s running mate, U.S. Sen. JD Vance (R-Ohio), U.S. Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-Ga.), right-wing media personality Charlie Kirk, and boxer and wrestler Logan Paul, all of whom attacked Khelif on social media. Paul posted on X following her win against Carini: “This is the purest form of evil unfolding right before our eyes. A man was allowed to beat up a woman on a global stage, crushing her life’s dream while fighting for her deceased father. This delusion must end.”

Fox News shared Paul’s quote. 

'DELUSION MUST END': Professional wrestler and influencer @LoganPaul makes his opinion known after a women's Olympic fighter dropped out a match just seconds into it after being forced to compete against a biological man. pic.twitter.com/7XTkmNP4Lm

— Fox News (@FoxNews) August 1, 2024

Paul later deleted the post and admitted that he “might be guilty of spreading misinformation.”

Khelif’s coach, Pedro Diaz, told Variety that the bullying Khelif endured during the Paris games “incredibly affected her” and “everyone around her.” He advised her to stop looking at social media so the distraction would not impact her performance in the ring, where she ultimately won a gold medal. 

According to Variety, Khelif’s complaint for online harassment is actually one of several that have launched investigations regarding the Paris Olympics. Prosecutors are also investigating a complaint filed by Thomas Jolly, the artistic director of the opening and closing ceremonies. As the Los Angeles Blade reported, one part of the opening ceremony drew condemnations and online criticism. Jolly said he was “the target of threatening messages and insults.” DJ Barbara Butch claimed she had received online harassment, death threats, and insults following the opening ceremony.

It turns out the “lesbian renaissance” only has 85 people. 

No, I am not talking about the Renaissance as defined by Chappell Roan, Billie Eilish, Bottoms, and Drive-Away Dolls. That Renaissance is well populated. 

It’s the Renaissance defined by Jenny Watson, a lesbian and self-described TERF (trans-exclusionary radical feminist) committed to the idea that lesbians can only be “biologically female.”

My number comes from Watson’s female-only lesbian and bisexual dating and community app, L Community, which took LGBTQ news and Twitter by storm last month when it claimed it could identify and exclude transgender women to a rate of 99.89 percent accuracy using AI-powered “sex recognition software.”

As of Aug. 7, more than 60 days since launching, the website couldn’t even break 100 users. 

After reading L Community’s definition of biological sex — “biological sex is firmly linked to distinct reproductive anatomies dedicated to producing sperm or eggs for reproduction” — I realized that I — a transmasculine person — fit the bill for “adult human female.” 

So, I checked the box verifying that I was “biologically female,” snapped a picture of my face — and signed up for the dating app. I didn’t shave beforehand, so my testosterone-induced stubble remained in the picture. Chest photos were not required so my flat chest raised no alarms.

Not that any of that would have mattered, Watson is clear that her app can’t be trans-exclusive because “there are many biological women who identify as males and we would certainly welcome those women.” 

I paid and was refunded the $12.75 to verify my identity. And I was ushered into the community, which was notably silent. The only content was from Watson. Posts include telling members the proper dating app portion was on its way via an invite-only basis and asking if anyone wanted to join a Zoom meet up since “our recent event had only six attendees.” Another user posted sporadic lesbian-themed memes.

I used my legal name to register, as the platform requested. Conveniently, I haven’t changed my name to Henry yet. At the same time, I reached out to Watson multiple times for comment under the name I publish under and use. 

(To counter any claims of misrepresentation, my chosen and legal names are irrevocably tied together on the internet due to my brief time publishing with both. A cursory search of either name identifies both as associated with me.) 

In response to an initial email request for an interview, she wrote “To ensure our message is accurately conveyed, I would prefer to answer your questions via email,” and provided the background “L’App is designed to create a safe and respectful space exclusively for lesbians, utilising facial recognition technology to ensure that only biological females can sign up.”

Watson noted, “This innovation addresses specific concerns raised by many in our community regarding their dating experiences.”

When I followed up with specific questions, as requested, such as the number of active users or their approach to people using the singular “they” pronoun or how they plan to approach intersex individuals, Watson failed to respond in a 5-day comment period. I extended that to 7 days out of courtesy, and heard nothing.

Ten days after I reached out with my questions, Watson asked for another week to respond. I provided her with a work-week deadline and never heard back.

Watson’s stances on the nonbinary, intersex, and trans community are of public record, however.

Watson had previously described a queer, nonbinary musician — who happens to be in a relationship with a man — as “a straight woman LARPing.” She tweeted in dismissal of the inclusion of nonbinary and intersex people in lesbian bars and lesbian history. 

In the same interview Watson said trans men were welcome on the app because they are actually women, Watson repeated that no trans woman could be a woman, to the surprise of the conservative interviewers who questioned if Watson’s conviction held “if they have gone through it, and they’re completely a woman now.” It, of course, being transition. 

By the logic presented in the interview, trans men who pass as men, who have testosterone levels equal to that of a cisgender man, and who have received top and bottom surgery are eligible for participation in the community, but trans women who pass as women, have received top and bottom surgery, and have testosterone levels of a cisgender woman cannot. 

Not that passing is something that every trans person wants, can do, or should be a necessity to gain respect or protection from discrimination.

Additionally, Watson’s app may not be open to cisgender women as well.

Watson was quick to tweet against Imane Khalif, the cisgender boxer whose gender was questioned by a coalition of far-right actors ranging from JK Rowling to JD Vance. (The only “proof” that Khalif has XY chromosomes comes from a highly discredited Russian sports organization.)

The L Community website states that: “In humans, biological sex is firmly linked to distinct reproductive anatomies dedicated to producing sperm or eggs for reproduction. At birth, human reproductive anatomy is unmistakably male or female in over 99.98 percent of cases.” Meaning, that there are only .002 percent of people who are intersex. 

This statistic is categorically incorrect. The Cleveland Clinic estimates that 2 percent of people worldwide are intersex. Other medical and advocacy organizations consistently argue that the number likely is 1.7 percent, drawing from the research of sex and gender biologist Anne Fausto-Sterling.

Where did Watson get that number? It is likely from Leonard Sax, a medical doctor and psychologist, who has argued that 0.018 percent of people are intersex. Sax has also argued that gender is biologically hardwired between females and males on numerous occasions, including on conservative talk shows and for the far-right think take the Institute for Family Studies.

Even if Sax’s and Watson’s proposed statistic was correct, Watson and L Community offer no guidelines about the inclusion of intersex people, regardless of their gender identity. Watson’s derision of Khalif suggests intersex people may not be welcome in the community.

This is not the only case where Watson’s assertions may be faulty. Watson initially claimed that her AI-powered software only messed up 0.10 percent of the time. She provided no proof to verify the claim.

Recent peer-reviewed research from CU Boulder studied gender recognition accuracy in multiple software and found that gender recognition software accurately categorized cisgender women 98.3 percent of the time, meaning that it miscategorized cisgender women 0.17 percent of the time, or a little less than double what Watson’s app does. 

Importantly, CU Boulder was examining some of the most advanced and well-supported models out there, looking at Amazon, IBM, Microsoft, and Clarifai programs. For those who don’t know Clarifai, it’s an AI-specific company that employs over 100 people. The rest need no introduction.

Not only is Watson working with a much smaller team — LinkedIn estimates 2-10 employees — Watson’s software also must account for the diversity of gendered appearances within the lesbian community, ranging from butch to femme, in addition to differentiating “biologically female” trans men from men and “biologically male” trans women from women, meaning their software must be highly advanced. 

The Boulder research team found that transgender men were categorized as women approximately 38 percent of the time and men the remaining 62 percent of the time, meaning they are incredibly hard to accurately categorize in either direction.

Dr. Morgan Klaus Scheuerman, one of the authors of the CU Boulder study, said, “A lot of people have this view that tech is somehow abstracted from human bias or human values, but it’s not in any capacity.” While Scheuerman knew the topic of my interview, we only spoke about his research, not about the app specifically.

Biometric AI and computer vision — how computers can identify objects or people – consistently shows bias against trans individuals.

Watson’s team manually verifies sex from submitted selfies using a script on the website which uses publicly available datasets and APIs (Application Programming Interfaces.) Per UCLA, APIs help dictate how software works and share information. There are several publicly available gender differentiation APIs. 

Scheuerman explains that, “at a broad level, most computer vision works by defining the categories which you want the system to recognize. In gender, this is often male or female.”

As Scheuerman’s research explains, large data sets of images, qualitatively labeled by people for specific characteristics like gender, can be trained to predict those qualities in future images.

Since the foundation of computer vision is human training, Scheuerman says, “these generative AI models, or these large foundation models, ideally can do anything you want them to do.” 

Fundamentally, Watson’s model wants to differentiate between ciswomen and transwomen. Since existing computer models successfully read trans women as women most (87.3 percent per Scheuerman) of the time, Watson likely needed to train her model specifically for its task.

The specifics of Watson’s model remain under wraps. But ostensibly to get the level of accuracy, Watson’s model must have been trained on photos of both trans women and cisgender women, in addition to trans men. This raises questions of consent. 

Where did Watson get the photos? Stock photo websites often include collections of transgender people available for republication, but some explicitly exclude their collections to be used in Machine learning or AI data, while others encourage it. Research has found that AI models often use copyrighted work as data to train models, regardless of if they have explicit permission. 

That is even if Watson used stock photos. “Scraping” data from publicly available sources like social media is very common for AI training and research and has previously been used to target trans people.

For example, an investigation by Vice found that the University of North Carolina Wilmington scraped more than 1 million images of trans people from YouTube without permission to create a dataset to learn more about terrorism. An interesting research question, seeing as a highly disproportionate number of terrorists are not trans.

Although we don’t know how Watson went about sourcing the data used to train her model, the broader question remains: What would models think about their photos being used in this way? 

Shae Gardner, director of policy at LGBT Tech, who has worked in the field of tech policy and research for eight years, says, “While there has been zero transparency in how this app’s facial recognition system was trained, if it involved the non-consensual scraping and inclusion of images of transgender women, that constitutes a severe breach of privacy, trust, and consent.”

Gardner emphasizes that “developing a technology with the explicit goal of identifying members of a marginalized group raises significant ethical concerns. Openly stating an intention to use that technology to exclude said group confirms them.”

Scheuerman says that “a lot of people have this view that tech is somehow abstracted from human bias or human values, but it’s not in any capacity.”

He hopes that “the field of computer science would be more open to understanding these types of concepts [like equity and diversity] because they’re our responsibility and a moral responsibility. Plus, it’s actually valuable within the market.”

The politics of consent and AI are just beginning to be negotiated and already have led to multiple lawsuits.

The first trans-exclusionary lesbian app Giggle for Girls, started in 2019 by Sall Grover, is currently facing a lawsuit from a transwoman, Roxanne Tickle. The app shut down in August 2022 with 20,000 members. Grover’s Twitter bio says the app is under renovation and will be re-launched soon. 

Grover and Watson used to be collaborators of sorts, having joined each other’s podcasts to hype up the small world of female-only dating entrepreneurs. 

That collaboration seems to have soured as both are claiming to be the first trans-exclusionary dating app. Giggle started first, but Watson claims it did not begin to discuss dating — just finding community — until after L Community launched. Grover claims otherwise.

However, a dedication to in-person events is unique to Watson’s mission. She plans to open a bar in London for women — her definition — only. It will be a member’s only club, so the exclusion of trans women is legal.

Watson recently hosted a counter event to London Pride, protesting trans and asexual inclusion at the event. Estimates Watson promotes put her event at 150 people. To put that into perspective, their event was under .005 percent of the size of London Pride. 

These numbers are not surprising. A 2023 YouGov survey found that 18 percent of cisgender lesbians think of trans people “very positively” or “fairly positively.” Another 13 percent don’t care (“neither positively nor negatively” and “fairly.”) Only 3 percent felt “very negatively” about trans people.

The Her App, a trans-inclusive lesbian dating app, that has critiqued Watson and L Community, has more than 15 million users. Grover’s app before it shut down was 0.0013 percent the size of that. Watson’s app is .000005 percent the size of that. 

Perhaps no comparison is more jarring to show that Watson and her followers are a stunning minority within the lesbian community.

The Boston Red Sox on Aug. 12 suspended for two games its all-star outfielder Jarren Duran one day after he shouted an anti-gay slur at a fan who had been heckling him as Duran stood at home plate in the sixth inning of a game against the Houston Astros at Boston’s Fenway Park stadium. 

Multiple news media outlets reported that a microphone at the stadium near where Duran stood picked up him yelling the slur. Most media outlets, including the Washington Post and the New York Times, did not report the exact words he shouted. But CNN reported on its website that Duran told the fan to “shut up you f**king f***ot.”  

According to CNN, after the game ended Duran, 27, issued an apology in a statement released by the Red Sox.

“During tonight’s game, I used a truly horrific word when responding to a fan,” Duran said in the statement. “I feel awful knowing how many people I offended and disappointed. I apologize to the entire Red Sox organization, but more importantly to the entire LGBTQ community,” he said. 

“Our young fans are supposed to be able to look up to me as a role model, but tonight I fell far short of that responsibility,” his statement continues. “I will use this opportunity to educate myself and my teammates and to grow as a person.” 

CNN reports that the Red Sox announced on Aug. 12, the day following the Sunday game, that the team will donate Duran’s two-day salary during the time of his suspension to the LGBTQ organization Federation of Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays, known as PFLAG. 

“The Red Sox addressed this incident with Jarren immediately following today’s game,” a statement released by the Red Sox says. “We echo Jarren’s apology to our fans, especially the LGBTQ community. We strive to be an organization that welcomes all fans to Fenway Park, and we will continue to educate our employees, players, coaches and staff on the importance of inclusivity,” the statement says as reported by the online sports publication The Athletic. 

Most of the media accounts of Jarren Duran’s anti-gay slur and apology did not report that the incident took place about two months after the Red Sox hosted their 11th annual LGBTQ Pride Night at Fenway Park on July 11 of this year. The Red Sox are among several major league baseball teams, including D.C.’s Washington Nationals, that host “Pride” games at their stadiums. 

The New York Times and other media outlets reported that Duran, who was named Most Valuable Player at last month’s baseball All-Star Game, reiterated his apology to reporters in interviews on the day following the incident. 

“There was no intent behind the word that was used,” the Times quoted him as saying. “It was just the heat of the moment and just happened to be said.” According to the Times, Duran added, “I actually apologized to the umpire and the catcher for my actions because they were right there. They heard me say it.” 

The world has witnessed beautiful, brown-eyed Tom Daley dive into a pool as part of a competition for the last time. The Summer Olympics in Paris, where the five-time Olympian won silver in the 10m synchronized event, turns out to have been his swan dive. 

“It was emotional at the end, up there on the platform, knowing it was going to be my last competitive dive,” Daley told British Vogue in an interview published Monday. “But I have to make the decision at some point, and it feels like the right time. It’s the right time to call it a day.”

The 30-year-old athlete from Devon, renowned as the UK’s most decorated diver, said he had trepidations about announcing he is officially done with diving. 

“It feels very, very surreal,” he told Vogue. “I felt so incredibly nervous going into this, knowing it was my last Olympics. There was a lot of pressure and expectation. I was eager for it to be done,” he said. “But when I walked out, and saw my husband [American filmmaker Dustin Lance Black] and kids [Robbie and Phoenix] and my friends and family in the audience, I was like, you know what? This is exactly why I did this. I’m here, and no matter what happens in the competition itself, I’m going to be happy.”

Daley publicly came out as gay in a YouTube video in 2013, following a tabloid headline that  declared “Tom Daley, ‘I’m Not Gay.” Up until that point, he had neither directly denied nor confirmed his orientation publicly. 

“It infuriated me that somebody would say that. I never wanted to be seen as lying or hiding from who I was,” Daley told the interviewer.

“With every Olympics, there are more and more out athletes,” he said, mindful of one tabulation that estimates there were 195 openly LGBTQ competitors in Paris. That’s a huge difference from a decade ago, he noted. “It’s powerful,” said Daley, while acknowledging that many closeted male athletes fear coming out and are reluctant to take that step. 

“I think there is a lot of pressure for when people do come out to be an activist and to be outspoken. And sometimes that’s just not in some people’s nature,” he said. “I think this might be part of the reason why possibly more people haven’t felt as comfortable with coming out. I also think that [the world of sport] is such a heteronormative space … lots of queer kids, when they’re younger, have this automatic feeling that they shouldn’t fit into sports, so they don’t pursue them. I hope we’ll see more in the future.”

As for Daley’s past, his accomplishments on the springboard are legendary. He made his Olympic debut at Beijing 2008 at the age of 14. He won gold and bronze medals in Tokyo, bronzes in London 2012 and Rio 2016. Daley’s gold came in the 10m synchronized event in Tokyo in 2021 alongside Matty Lee. He was back to defend his title in Paris after being convinced by his son Robbie to return to the sport. Daley won silver in the French capital alongside Noah Williams. 

All told, he has since won a combined total of 11 World, Commonwealth and European Championship gold medals, and was the first Team GB diver to win four Olympic medals, a record he has now surpassed with five. 

Before coming out, Daley was asked why he thought he had such a large gay following. 

“Probably because I am half-naked all the time,” he replied. And as proof that’s still true, his latest TikTok and Instagram posts are titled “BRAT Summer Olympics.”

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A post shared by Tom Daley (@tomdaley)

Daley now has more than five million followers across his social media platforms. 

The Americans eked out a nail-biter victory at the Summer Olympics in Paris on Sunday, overcoming host nation France, 67-66, in women’s basketball with more out LGBTQ competitors and coaches than any other team.

Gold medals go to these magnificent seven women’s basketball stars: Breanna Stewart, Brittney Griner, Diana Taurasi, Alyssa Thomas, Jewell Loyd, Chelsea Gray, and Kahleah Cooper. They were led by Cheryl Reeve, one of the most successful WNBA head coaches, who led the Minnesota Lynx to four league titles. Her assistant coach, Curt Miller, is a two-time WNBA coach of the year, the current head coach of the Los Angeles Sparks and the first and only out gay male coach in pro basketball. 

Observers have dubbed them one of the “gayest teams” competing in Paris. 

But Sunday’s gold medal match was not the runaway win Team USA has become famous for. Not every star saw the floor, except from the bench. And those watching courtside — including Sue Bird, Dawn Staley, Kevin Durant, and Vanessa Bryant and her children — witnessed what one observer called the worst half of basketball the U.S. women have played on a world stage. 

The U.S. team appeared to be missing its offensive rhythm in competing against a very physical French defense. France briefly took the lead, 25-23 right before halftime, but Team USA fired back, right before the buzzer, tying it up, 25-25. at the half.

France jumped out to an 8-0 run to start the second half, and the two teams traded leads throughout, with the score tied 11 times throughout the game. Finally, it all came down to one shot: With seconds left on the clock, Team USA down three points, former Seattle Storm forward Gabby Williams — playing for France — had a chance to send the game to overtime with a buzzer-beater that caused a bit of a scare for the Americans.

But the New York Liberty’s Stewart immediately pointed out that Williams’s foot was touching the three-point line, preserving a 67-66 win for Team USA and giving the team its eighth straight gold medal and 61st consecutive victory. 

UNBELIEVABLE ENDING IN PARIS. 😱

Gabby Williams banked it in at the buzzer but her FOOT WAS ON THE THREE-POINT LINE. TEAM USA WINS BY A SINGLE POINT.#ParisOlympics pic.twitter.com/DJI7YxfVMl

— NBC Olympics & Paralympics (@NBCOlympics) August 11, 2024

“The streak is crazy. I mean, they just told me when I was doing TV that it was, like, before I was born that it kind of started, which is wild,” Stewart said. “It just goes to show those that have really paved the way and to create USA Basketball and what it is now. Tons of appreciation for that and knowing that when you represent this jersey and wear USA across your chest the standard is high and there really is nothing higher.”

One factor that may explain Team USA’s struggles Sunday: The majority of 12,000 spectators in Bercy Arena loudly rooted for their home team, France. In that hostile environment, the U.S. shot a whopping 34 free throws off 25 French fouls, but only made 27 of them.

The Phoenix Mercury was well represented in Team USA. Copper had 12 points, including 10 in the fourth quarter. Griner had four points and two rebounds in five first-half minutes but didn’t play in the second. Taurasi didn’t see the floor for the first time all tournament but won her sixth Olympic gold medal, the most all-time for a U.S. basketball player, men’s or women’s. 

The Seattle Storm’s Loyd was the only player other than Taurasi to sit out this final game. But in the end, they won gold as a team.

On the podium, Griner was emotional as the national anthem played, wiping away a tear. Throughout these games, Griner has spoken about how playing for the U.S. means more to her this time around. Two years ago, she was imprisoned in Russia. Today, she is an Olympic gold medalist.

Other memorable LGBTQ Olympians

At last count, 195 openly LGBTQ athletes competed in the Paris Olympics, according to Outsports. 

On Saturday, Team USA defeated Brazil in the gold medal match of the women’s soccer tournament, a 1-0 victory that gives the Americans their fifth Olympic gold medal. Tierna Davidson and Jane Campbell are the only out LGBTQ athletes on the American women’s soccer team, which has not won an Olympic gold medal since 2012 in London. The U.S. was knocked out in the quarterfinals at the 2016 games in Rio and had to settle for bronze three years ago in Tokyo. 

Sha’Carri Richardson officially became an Olympic champion Friday, as the anchor leg for the Team USA women’s 4x100m relay squad in track and field. The baton pass from 200m gold medalist Gabby Thomas to Richardson wasn’t smooth, but the Texan then exploded down the stretch to cross the finish line and win gold. 

Women’s boxing has made headlines around the world at this Olympics. 

On Saturday, an emotional Lin Yu-ting of Taiwan became the second boxer in 24 hours to win a gold medal despite questions about her gender eligibility. Lin defeated 20-year-old Julia Szeremeta of Poland by unanimous decision to claim the featherweight title, a day after Imane Khelif of Algeria became the welterweight champion. Lin and Khelif competed in Paris despite being disqualified from last year’s World Championships because they reportedly failed gender eligibility tests. Both boxers have been taunted with accusations that they were men, or transgender. 

Both women are women. 

International Olympic Committee President Thomas Bach defended both Khelif and Lin’s right to compete, and noted the IOC severed ties with the IBA last year over governance and transparency issues.

“If somebody is presenting us a scientifically solid system how to identify men and women, we are the first ones to do it. We do not like this uncertainty,” Bach told the Associated Press on Friday. “What is not possible is someone saying ‘this is not a woman’ just by looking at somebody or by falling prey to a defamation campaign by a not credible organization with highly political interests.”

“But this has no impact on our very clear position: Women have the right to participate in women’s competitions. And the two are women.”

Southern California native Nikki Hiltz finished 7th in Saturday’s 1500-meter final at the Stade de France in 3 minutes, 56.38 seconds. Hiltz is the two-time U.S. outdoor and indoor national champion at 1500 meters and the first trans nonbinary athlete to reach an Olympic individual event final.

While some may call coming in seventh place “disappointing,” that’s not how Hiltz or their partner Emma Gee see it. Gee posted a photo of a beaming Hiltz to Instagram after the final.

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A post shared by Emma Gee (@emma_gee1777)

Three years ago, Hiltz failed to make the U.S. team for Tokyo. They were eliminated in the semifinals at last year’s World Championships. But on Saturday, they were right in the thick of a record-breaking race in one of the most competitive events in sports. 

Congratulations to Hiltz and all the competitors! Win or lose, each and every one comes home an Olympian. 

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A post shared by Nikki Hiltz (@nikkihiltz)

The hyper-masculine world of Hollywood stunt performers might not be the place you’d expect to find queer romance, but Rogue Artists Ensemble Artistic Director Sean Cawelti says he found the idea for his company’s new show, “Happy Fall: A Queer Stunt Spectacular,” among the real-life stories of stunt performers who had to remain closeted on the job.

Cawelti says he fell in love with the world of stunt performance by watching the live stunt shows at Universal Studios as a kid. 

“I started researching the stunt community and actually found articles about stunt performers that were wrestling with their identity and their sexuality and how they were treated and mistreated in the industry because of that,” he says.

Based on his idea, Rogue Artists engaged playwright Lisa Sanaye Dring to develop a script inspired by conversations with real stunt performers in the industry.  

The result is a multimedia spectacle that aspires to be a true stunt show in the vein of those old Universal Studios shows and a compelling love story about closeted performers.

“The play itself is a stunt show. It has all the things you would expect. It has audience participation, it has really amazing physical performances. And then also there are multiple camera feeds that allow us to create essentially on-the-fly cinematic experiences for the audience so that we can record things and play them back and manipulate them,” Cawelti says.

And the stunts serve as more than mere spectacle – they’re an integral part of building out the love story between aging pro Clay (played by David Ellard) and up-and-comer Felix (played by Kurt Kanazawa).

“Clay represents old school stunt world. He’s been doing this for a long time. His body is starting to get tired and is breaking down, and he loves what he does. His entire identity is baked into this notion of being this kind of invincible action hero. And he is incredibly closeted and has never been able to live fully and authentically in his life,” Cawelti says.

“And Felix, he’s new to Hollywood and is coming to the industry with a real hunger and zest, but also is living more authentically. Felix meets Clay and understands in the coded way that we often can understand that Clay is a part of Felix’s community.” 

The play arrives at a timely moment, as stunt performers have been pulled increasingly into the spotlight with the recent Hollywood rom-com “The Fall Guy,” and, for Hollywood insiders, increased attention on stunt issues in the recent SAG contract negotiations and the ongoing debate about whether stunt performances and coordination should be recognized at the Academy Awards.

Cawelti thinks the increasing attention on stunt performances stems from audience disillusionment over Hollywood’s increasing reliance on CGI to sell action.

“Maybe we are fatigued with this kind of CGI superhero cartoon disembodiment that we find in cinema so much. There’s something about seeing a real person do a real thing that feels real to the eye and has a real sense of gravity,” he says.

And, of course, that sense of gravity is amplified when you’re watching real performers on a stage in front of you, a sensation that can’t truly be copied on screen.

“A live stunt show is such an oddly surreal place that makes a really exciting playground for an experience like this,” Cawelti says. “If it was on film, there’s such a distance that’s placed where we can’t actually go into the audience, we can’t actually look at you in the eyes and talk with you and ask you questions about what you’re feeling.”

To enhance that live theatrical experience, Rogue Artists is also offering a series of complementary pre- and post-show events, including talkbacks and workshops.

“We have a really exciting slate of community programming that’s complementing the performance. You can learn stunt performance, you can take a workshop on puppetry, have conversations with the composer,” Cawelti says.

“Happy Fall: A Queer Stunt Spectacular” by Rogue Artists Ensemble plays at Renberg Theatre at the Los Angeles LGBT Center, 1125 N McCadden Place, Aug. 17-Sept. 8, Thursday-Saturday at 8 p.m., Sunday at 3 p.m. Full details and tickets at rogueartists.org.

In Greek mythology, a young mortal named Ganymede possessed such beauty that Zeus himself chose to abduct the boy to Mount Olympus – which wasn’t such a bad deal, considering Ganymede was granted not just immortality to go along with his new job as cup-bearer to the gods, but eternal youth and beauty as well.

That’s not, however, how the story gets told – or rather, twisted – in the new movie “Ganymede,” the latest queer indie gem to debut on VOD platforms this summer, which uses the myth as the launchpad for a horror story that manages to be both campy and creepy at once. Directed by partners Colby Holt and Sam Probst (from Holt’s original screenplay) and set in a small town in the modern-day Bible Belt, it centers on high school wrestling star Lee (Jordan Doww), the only son of a deeply religious local politician (Joe Chrest) who runs his household with an iron fist. When gay classmate Kyle (Pablo Castelblanco) makes an effort to befriend him, he quickly develops feelings that put him at odds with his conservative upbringing; small-town gossip, as well as a dark family secret surrounding his mother (Robyn Lively, in a deliciously hysterical performance), soon have him under the controlling eye of his church’s fanatical pastor (David Koechner). Even more terrifying, his mind is being invaded by a ghostly, sinister presence that seems determined to drive him toward madness and self-destruction – unless Kyle can get to him first.

Like many of these queer-centric genre pictures, “Ganymede” emerged from the festival circuit, securing acclaim and awards throughout its run. With its unconcealed LGBTQ focus and religious homophobia at the core of its horror, it’s plain to see why it would strike a chord with queer audiences, especially in a time when conservative pushback against queer acceptance dominates the public conversation.

For “mainstream” horror fans, however, whose appreciation of the genre is generally focused on fright and gore rather than on the subtextual nuances of its tropes, Holt’s movie might not be the terrifying experience it aims to be — largely because he and Probst do not hide their LGBTQ perspective between the lines. It’s clear from early on that the gay love story upon which the plot hinges is exactly what it appears to be, and further, that it’s where our sympathies belong.

More than that, “Ganymede” inverts the supposed moral order of traditional, old-school horror narratives by framing the forces of religion – or at least, a weaponized form of it – as the source of the story’s true evil. Despite the “haunting” that plagues the film’s young protagonist from almost the very beginning, the supernatural elements of the story (spoiler alert) remain localized within his own mind, only manifesting in the real world – with one important but ambiguous exception – through his reactions to them, and it doesn’t take a film scholar to figure out that they are not the real threat to his well-being. For Holt and Probst, the evil doesn’t come from outside the real world, but from within the darkest corners of a stunted human imagination that projects its own pre-programmed ideas onto that world and treats anything that conflicts with them as an existential threat. In truth, it’s the same message one can find in horror classics from “Bride of Frankenstein” to “The Wicker Man” to the notoriously gay “Nightmare on Elm Street 2” – but in this case, it is delivered not by implication but by direct and obvious assertion.

It’s this point that might keep Holt’s film from satisfying the conventions of traditional horror filmmaking, but it’s worth observing that it’s also this point that makes it stand out. By refusing to conform to generic expectations, it represents a powerful cultural shift, in which the queerness of its premise no is no longer a transgressive statement of countercultural themes, but in fact becomes the “normal order” that is being threatened by perverse powers that seek to tear it down – and those perverse powers are the very “norms” that have so long cast all “otherness” in a monstrous light.

The bottom line for most film audiences, of course, be they queer or not, is whether the movie succeeds in scaring them – and if we’re being honest, it does so only in the sense that it confronts us with the horrific bigotry and abuse that is heaped upon LGBTQ existence from right-wing religious hate. That means, even for queer audiences, it’s not so much a horror movie as it is a disturbing allegory about the torment of being forced to suppress one’s true self in order to feign the safe conformity required for self-preservation. Frankly, that should be scary enough for everyone, regardless of whether the movie adheres to accepted genre form, to keep them trembling in their shoes over the prospect of a world dominated by such a deranged mentality; after all, it’s not just queer people who stand to be subjugated, suppressed, and worse in a world controlled by a strict and deeply biased interpretation of outdated beliefs – it’s anybody who would dare to suggest that those beliefs might deserve an extinction as final as the one experienced by the dinosaurs.

Going a long way toward making the whole thing work – besides the sureness of Holt’s direction, that is, which fully embraces the traditions of the genre (hence the aforementioned campiness) while treating the story as a realistic thriller with genuinely high stakes – is a cast that delivers performances several cuts above what we are use to seeing in such movies. Doww is a compelling and convincing lead, who never devolves into over-the-top histrionics, while Castelblanco triumphs in embodying the determined heroism required of his position in the plot while still maintaining an unashamedly femme-ish queer persona; we never doubt his ability to turn the tide, nor the natural and unforced chemistry the two actors find together. They find stellar support from the aforementioned Lively, as well as from Chrest – a domineering patriarch who would be the most terrifying figure in the film if it weren’t for Koechner’s chillingly authentic pastor, whose buried self-loathing is nevertheless painfully clear as he bullies and tortures the young Lee in the name of “conversion.”

Which brings us back to the significance of the title, and its roots in Greek mythology, where it was born as a tale of transcendence; in the warped minds of the film’s religious leaders, it becomes the opposite, a story of deliberate corruption perpetrated against so-called “decent” men by monsters who tempt them with “unnatural” desires. More than anything, perhaps, it’s that flourish of the screenplay that makes “Ganymede” an astute piece of social commentary, whether or not it succeeds as a horror film; in warping the understanding of that ancient tale into a justification for cruelty and repression, it underscores the toxic effects of clinging to a dogma that pretends to be truth while casting other viewpoints as the products of malevolent influence. That’s a delusion that has reached crisis levels in American society – and it’s why “Ganymede” is a must-see whether it’s a true horror film or not.