Arts & Entertainment
Documenting our lives
Story of slain Ugandan activist among LGBT stories at Silverdocs festival
Silverdocs Festival
June 18-24
AFI Silver Theatre
8633 Colesville Rd., Silver Spring
‘Call Me Kuchu’ — June 20 at 9:30 p.m. and June 22 at 8:30 p.m.
‘How to Survive a Plague’ — June 20 at 7 p.m.
‘Ray: A Life Underwater’ — June 21 at noon.
Individual tickets cost $12, however Silverdocs is offering various package deals that allow access to multiple screenings and the conference.
When two filmmakers set out to capture the work of LGBT activist and Uganda’s first openly gay man, they didn’t realize they were also filming the last year of his life.
“It was an incredibly hard thing to go through,” says Malika Zouhali-Worrall of her work with the late David Kato. “We spent a lot of time with him while he was working and during his private time. It came as an awful shock to both of us.”
Worrall and fellow filmmaker Katherine Wright tell Kato’s story in their new documentary “Call Me Kuchu,” which is screening in the upcoming Silverdocs Festival at the AFI Silver Theatre, which kicks off Monday for its 10th year. It’s a seven-day film festival with a five-day conference that promotes documentary film as an art form.
Sky Sitney, festival director of Silverdocs, says the movie will shock those who are largely unaware of what is happening in Uganda while drawing viewers close to the subjects.
“I think it is the way the film takes the topic and weaves it through personal stories, allows intimate access so that you are deeply invested in their lives, that makes it so powerful,” she says.
Worrall is a freelance reporter for CNN and this is her first feature length film. Wright was a film studies and anthropology major at Columbia University and has produced other feature length films including, “Gabi On the Roof in July,” while also directing shorts.
Worrall and Wright began filming in January 2010 after a transgender man named Victor Mukasa won a court case in the high court of Uganda, granting him his right to privacy after it had been violated during a raid. They shot the film with a less than $300,000 budget provided by various backers and a Kickstarter fundraising campaign. The filmmakers chose the term “kuchu” because this is the umbrella term used there for members of the LGBT community.
The film observes Kato and other activists as they fervently try to get Uganda’s homophobic laws repealed while preventing a new anti-homosexuality bill from passing in parliament. The new law would have HIV-positive gay men sentenced to death while others would be sentenced to life imprisonment. Kato was one of the founding members of Sexual Minorities Uganda, an underground movement for LGBT rights. However, Kato’s life abruptly ended when a man named Sidney Nsubuga Enoch, a local gardener and apparently a well-known thief, murdered him in his home.
At the time, Wright and Worrall were in New York planning their next trip to Uganda to shoot. They decided they needed to go back to Uganda immediately — Wright left the next day.
“We realized our film suddenly became about the last year of Kato’s life and added a sense of urgency, it was really intense,” Worrall says.
Though the documentary is LGBT specific, it was not this element that attracted Worrall and Wright to Uganda.
“It wasn’t so much that I was interested in LGBT rights more than any other human rights, but more that these people had these destinies laid out for them by these laws,” Wright says.
To fully depict the causes of these laws and their effect, the filmmakers traveled back and forth between anti-gay community members and LGBT activists. Both Worrall and Wright say it’s important for American audiences to understand what inspired the creation of the new bill.
“Getting all the basic facts is really important,” Worrall says. “Understanding what is happening in Uganda, and that it is very much related to American evangelicals and American foreign policy.”
Specifically, Scott Lively, Caleb Lee Brundidge and Don Schmierer, all American evangelicals, were invited to participate in a workshop in Uganda in 2009 where they spoke about the international “gay agenda.” According to a New York Times article, Lively told attendees that gays sodomize children and would destroy the culture. Soon after the bill was proposed, Worrall says they filmed a scene where a group of evangelicals celebrated and praised the government for proposing it.
Despite the hostility toward the LGBT community, members were still able to find ways to enjoy their lives. Wright says capturing these moments was of special importance to them.
“It was invigorating to see how these people were able to organize themselves despite the persecution,” she says. “It wasn’t the narrative victimization that you might have expected.”
Filming members of the LGBT community could still threaten their security, and some declined to be shown on camera for fear of being outed by local tabloids, which list LGBT people by name under headlines, “Homo Terror! We Name and Shame Top Gays,” according to the movie’s website.
Though Worrall and Wright are straight, they wanted to use the work being done by the LGBT community as a different way to approach Uganda, and by extension Africa.
“It was a way to capture a vivid portrait of people,” Worrall says. “Especially now that David is gone it has become very urgent.”
Worrall will be attending the Silverdocs with one of the film’s protagonists, Long Jones. The U.S. premiere of the film is occurring at the Los Angeles Film Festival on Saturday. The screening at Silverdocs will be the East Coast premiere of the film and will occur on June 20 and June 22 near the end of the festival.
“We are very excited to premiere it in the U.S.,” Worrall says. “It was first premiered in the Berlin Film Festival and the reaction there was incredible.”
Sitney says “Call Me Kuchu” will provide a juxtaposition to another film with LGBT themes, “How to Survive a Plague,” which revisits the 1980s when HIV/AIDS was still greatly feared and effective treatment was largely unavailable.
“One film is showing an injustice that is going on literally today and the act of change in positive and negative ways,” she says. “One is a retrospective look, to see what has changed and what has remained the same.”
“Call Me Kuchu,” which runs 87 minutes, is in the running for a grand jury prize while “How to Survive a Plague,” is one of the centerpieces of the festival.
Another film that doesn’t have prevalent LGBT themes but is directed by lesbian director Amanda Bluglass is “Ray: A Life Underwater,” a 14-minute short provides a portrait of 75-year-old deep-sea diver named Ray Ives who has been exploring the bottom of the ocean for 50 years while wearing a diving suit from the 1900s.
Sitney says that including these films adds to the diversity of the festival, but they do not specifically look for films with LGBT themes, or any specific themes, when reviewing submissions.
“We already make this festival exclusively about documentary films, we don’t want to set too many other boundaries,” she says. “We don’t choose central themes, but some emerge unintentionally.”
Sitney says that each film should be accessible to a non-LGBT audience, by breaking cultural parameters to create a “stunning and beautiful quality of work.”
Theater
Immersive ‘Nation-State’ imagines a society free of authoritarianism
Queer duo brings unique theater experience to Dupont Underground
‘Nation-State: A Live Experiment’
Sept. 2-13
La Pluma Theatre
Dupont Underground
19 Dupont Circle, N.W.
$25-40
Dupontunderground.org
Industry Night: September 7. Free for all theater makers
A relevant piece replete with borders and passports, La Pluma Theatre’s “Nation-State: A Live Experiment”is immersive, site-specific, and testimonial.
With the production, the company’s queer co-founders Victor Salinas and Gabriel de la Cruz pose unique situations and experiences. In lieu of tickets, audience members get passports. What follows are questions and tests, and whether they gain entrance into a nation built to protect its citizens from authoritarianism, resource theft, and colonization remains to be seen.
Originally from Mexico and Peru, respectively, Salinas and de la Cruz met at a birthday party in D.C. and instantly clicked as theater makers, sharing outlook and ambition. Reluctant to go it alone, both had been searching for artistic and producing collaboration. That all changed.
And while their enterprise is primarily Latino and queer, these professional partners refused to be confined to a box, choosing rather to amplify the voices of all of D.C.’s diverse communities. In line with their plans, “Nation-State” is open to serving many points of view.
As director of “Nation-State,” de la Cruz mostly guides the questioning. He’s the right man for the job. Since arriving in the U.S. six years ago, he has been consistently curious about certain things. Who belongs here? How do you make this your home? And who is creating the rules?
“But the writing process is shared,” de la Cruz corrects. “I come up with questions. I provide Victor the topic and he goes from there. We’re both writing what happens next.”
He adds, “the most exciting moment for people is when they share something unique. As a questioner, you need to find the confidence and the right moment to ask the question. If you provide the space for that, the actor or audience member will give you something singular.”
Since before La Pluma opened in November 2025, its creators have agreed that “the most beautiful thing is when you use theater to fashion something innovative. Theater is the place where you can create new frameworks and rehearse new ways to live.”
At just an hour, “Nation-State” is performed in English at Dupont Underground – the company’s historic residence, a once subterranean street car barn located beneath Dupont Circle. For the production, the tunnels serve as boundaries, and its different curved spaces make up a micro nation and welcome different guest actors who will come to share their stories.
At certain times, Salinas plays Officer Salinas, Director of N.I.C.E. (Non-Discriminatory, Inclusive Customs Enforcement), a humorous social critic of the system and border patrol. Other times, it’s Salinas as himself telling his real-life stories. He says, “it’s a level of vulnerability that I’ve never experienced. The script is my personal life with zero censorship. But I think, if not now in a play that we are pouring our souls into, then when?
“As a kid I dreamed of being TV show host and now I am. I will sing and tell my stories. I feel comfortable and ready to do it.”
In Spanish, “pluma” means both pen and feather. For the company, it’s the latter, and comes with lively associations. Salinas explains. In mysticism, feathers serve as a portal between the real and spiritual worlds, like that between fact and fiction. And in Spanish and Latin American slang “showing feathers” (in other words, showing queerness). La Pluma encourages a good display of authenticity.
And specifically for Salinas, there’s a personal story involving his beloved grandmother with whom he was extremely close. After she died, he has regularly found feathers as if she’s making contact. “A bit romantic, I know. But I think if you’re open you can see these things,” he says.
“Nation-State” is challenging but fun. It’s unmistakably La Pluma. In the end, the company wants to build a world where everyone feels safe to tell their own stories, as individuals and performers.
Books
New book examines Trump cuts to LGBTQ healthcare
‘Aftershocks’ details impact of policy shifts on HIV response, broader public health
As LGBTQ and HIV advocates continue to grapple with the Trump administration’s attacks on healthcare, a new book offers a timely look at what happens when public health systems — and the democratic institutions that sustain them — are pushed to their limits.
The book, “Aftershocks: Trump 2.0, Public Health, and Our Better Angels,” was written by Dr. José M. Zuniga, president/CEO of Fast-Track Health. Zuniga is a globally recognized public health leader with more than three decades of experience advancing responses to HIV, communicable and non-communicable diseases, and the health impacts of climate change. He is also editor-in-chief of the Journal of Fast-Track Health.

The book covers the first year of the second Trump administration. It chronicles the impact of federal policy shifts and budget cuts on the HIV response and public health more broadly, including for LGBTQ communities. Drawing from policy analysis, frontline insight, and lived experience, the author reveal how decades of hard-won progress became vulnerable through Project 2025 and DOGE, but also a paralysis in the HIV and public health communities following the outcome of the 2024 elections.
“In other words, we were caught flat-footed when our opposition had a detailed plan to create chaos and disruption,” Zuniga says. “Thus, the book also offers Horizons 2028 as an antidote to Project 2025 as a starting point for a wide-ranging conversation about how we will build back better given the baseline pre-Trump 2.0 was already imperfect.”
Below is an excerpt from the book.
What Could Not Be Left Unsaid
Let me begin with a simple truth: I did not set out to write this book. Like many in the public health community, I set out daily to do the work of scaling prevention, expanding access to care, strengthening health systems, and ensuring that dignity, equity, and justice are operational realities. Writing, for me, has always been in service of action: policy briefs to shape decisions, editorials to provoke accountability, reports to document progress or failure, and books to synthesize experience into insight that can guide public health action. But Aftershocks is something different; it is not merely an analysis. Instead, it is a record of rupture, of response, and of what it means to continue when the ground beneath your work begins to shift.
This book was written because something changed, and that change came into sharp relief during the beginning days of the second Trump administration, including the erosion of norms, the weaponization of rhetoric, and the recalibration of governance itself. The change was not limited to policy reversals or budget cuts, though there were many. Moreover, it was not confined to rhetoric, though language played a central role. The change was structural and moral: a redefinition of how power understood its obligations to people, to evidence, and to truth itself. And for those of us working in public health, the effects were immediate and personal. We experienced a purposeful disruption of the public health ecosystem and a direct repudiation of the “health for all” principle that guides our work….
Writing this book was, unexpectedly, an act of catharsis. Not because it resolved anything, but because it created space to process what would otherwise have been overwhelming… Amid what many in the public health community experienced as both individual and collective trauma, documenting itself was stabilizing, allowing reflection without detachment and critique without disengagement. But catharsis alone is insufficient. This book is not an exercise in lament; it is also a response. If the period it chronicles is defined by disruption, then its purpose is to offer direction. Where Project 2025 represented a blueprint for ideological capture of institutions, language, and governance, this book offers a counterpoint: Horizons 2028…
Horizons 2028 is grounded in a simple premise: that the future of public health – and of democratic governance more broadly – depends on rebuilding systems that are resilient to political volatility. That means strengthening not only federal capacity, but subnational leadership. It means embedding community-led accountability into data systems. It means aligning health outcomes with social determinants and recognizing that equity is not an endpoint but a continuous process of adjustment and correction. It means treating global engagement not as optional, but as essential to national well-being. In other words, it is a roadmap not for returning to what was, but for building what is required…
I write as an Independent. Not in the sense of detachment, but in the sense of accountability to evidence, to outcomes, and to the people whose lives depend on both… Independence does not mean neutrality in the face of harm; it means refusing to filter reality through partisan allegiance. Importantly, it also means being guided by a consistent commitment to equity, dignity, and justice. These are not abstract values… They are tested in moments of crisis, when the gap between principle and practice becomes most apparent. They demand accountability not only for what is said, but for what is done – and for what is allowed to persist unchallenged. And they require the courage to name harm clearly, even when doing so is inconvenient or politically unwelcome.
That commitment shapes the analysis that follows, but it is also what makes the writing difficult. Because to document harm is to confront it. To trace its origins is to name decisions and their consequences. And to do so honestly is to risk being read as partisan in a landscape where truth itself has become politicized. But the alternative – silence, or false equivalence – is not acceptable. Not when the stakes are as high as they are. There is, however, a thread that runs through this book that resists cynicism, is not optimism, at least not in the conventional sense, but is something quieter and more durable: a belief that even in moments of rupture, there remains a capacity – within institutions, within communities, within individuals – to reorient toward something better.
The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.
Out & About
Archuleta to host book signing in Rehoboth Beach
Entertainer to meet with fans at Browseabout Books
David Archuleta will chat with fans and sign his book “Devout: Losing My Faith to Find Myself” on Sunday, Sept. 6 at 2 p.m. at Browseabout Books in Rehoboth Beach.
The book is an inspirational account of his transformation from a closeted Mormon teen singer to a pop star who is comfortable with his queer identity. For additional information on this event, go to browseaboutbooks.com.
Archuleta will also be in Rehoboth Beach to headline the “Night of Entertainment” on Saturday, Sept. 5 for CAMP Rehoboth’s SUNFESTIVAL weekend, which includes the Night of Dance Sept. 6.
Visit camprehoboth.org for more information.

