Movies
Amazon Prime doc tells story of Black, queer civil rights pioneer
RBG quoted Anna Pauline (Pauli) Murray before Supreme Court

No one could have imagined the life of Anna Pauline (Pauli) Murray, the Black, queer, gender nonconforming civil rights pioneer who lived from 1910 to 1985.
Few people have done as much to make the world more just than Murray. Last year, Murrayās scholarship was used to help the ACLU successfully argue before the Supreme Court that Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 protects LGBTQ+ people from being fired in the workplace because of their sexual orientation and gender identity. Yet, many people donāt know who Murray was.
āMy Name is Pauli Murray,ā a new documentary playing in select theaters and streaming on Amazon Prime, tells the story of Murrayās fascinating life. The engrossing film is co-directed by Betsy West and Julie Cohen, who directed āRBG,ā the popular documentary on Ruth Bader Ginsburg.
āRBGā is a good documentary. Yet, the 131-minutes-long āMy Name is Pauli Murrayā is even better.
Conveying the complexity of Murrayās life in a doc of that short length would fell many mortals. But West and Cohen are up to the task.
Using recordings of Murrayās voice; Murrayās letters, footage of everything from Murray with one of her dogs to Harlem in the 1930s along with interviews with Murrayās family and biographers, the film draws you into Murrayās world.
To say Murray was a Renaissance woman isnāt trite. Murray was a lawyer, poet, writer, activist and educator. Thatās just the tip of the iceberg!
For decades, Murray and Eleanor Roosevelt were friends. Murray was a co-founder of the National Organization for Women. Gay writers James Baldwin and Langston Hughes were her writing buddies. Murray and Baldwin were the first Black writers to be invited to the distinguished MacDowell writing colony.
In her 60s, Murray left her tenured position teaching at Brandeis University to go to seminary. She became the first Black woman to be ordained a priest by the Episcopal Church.
It doesnāt stop there! A paper Murray wrote as a Howard Law School student was a key element of Thurgood Marshallās strategy in overthrowing racial segregation in Brown v. Board of Education. Ruth Bader Ginsburg quoted Murray when she argued against sex discrimination before the Supreme Court.
While she was alive, Murray was closeted about much of her personal life. Murray had a decades-long relationship with Irene Barlow. But, because of the times in which she lived, Murray couldnāt be open about their relationship.
Murray felt that she was misgenderedālike a man in a womanās body. This, too, Murray kept secret.
In āMy Name is Pauli Murray,ā Murrayās family and biographers refer to Murray with the pronouns āshe and her.ā A non-binary activist refers to Murray as āthey.ā
Murray is having a much-deserved moment. In 2016, Yale University named one of its residential colleges after Murray. It was the first time a Yale college was named after a person of color or an (openly) LGBTQ+ person. In 1965, Murray was the first African American to graduate from Yale with a doctorate in judicial science.
In 2017, the National Park Service, part of the Department of the Interior, Murrayās family home in Durham, N.C., as a National Historic Landmark.
Watching, āMy Name is Pauli Murray,ā youāre bowled over by Murrayās resilience and achievements. Fifteen years before Rosa Parks, she protested racial segregation on buses.
āIāve lived to see my lost causes found,ā Murray says.
Itās hard to humanize an icon. But, the filmmakers donāt place Murray on Mount Olympus.
Even as a child, we learn, Murray wanted to wear pants. That was fine during the week, her Aunt Pauline said, but Murray would have to wear a dress to church on Sunday. Though, few understood Murrayās feelings, Aunt Pauline called Murray āmy boy girl.ā
Murray and Barlow never lived together. Yet, you get a sense of their intimacy from the letters they exchanged. They called each other āLinusā and āCharlie Brownā (characters in the Peanuts comic strip) and wrote of longing to āshareā listening to Brahms’ Fourth Symphony and the New York Times crossroad puzzle.
āMy Name is Pauli Murrayā will leave you talking about Murray and how to honor her legacy. That would have made Murray happy.
Movies
New doc illuminates Patricia Highsmithās life and work
āIntercourse with men is like steel wool to the faceā

If youāve been transfixed by the amusement park scene in Alfred Hitchcockās āStrangers on a Train,ā rooted for the sociopath Tom Ripley in the 1999 film āThe Talented Mr. Ripleyā or been moved to tears by the love of Therese and Carol in Todd Haynesās movie of āCarol,ā Patricia Highsmith is etched in your DNA.
Highsmith, who lived from 1921 to 1995 wrote more than 50 books (novels and short story collections). Nearly all of her books were made into movies.
Recently, āLoving Highsmith,ā a fab documentary about Patricia Highsmith has been released. The film, written and directed by Eva Vitija, opens Sept. 2 at the Film Forum in New York and Sept. 9 at Landmarkās Nuart Theatre in Los Angeles. āLoving Highsmithā premiered at the Sydney Film Festival and bowed at the Frameline Film Festival in June.
Highsmith, like Tom Ripley and many of her other fictional characters, led a double life. She was a lesbian. But, because of the homophobia of her era, Highsmith had to be closeted about what she called āthe ever present subjectā of her āhomosexuality.ā
Except in the 5,000 pages of her diaries and notebooks. (1,000 pages of her diaries and notebooks were published in 2021 in āPatricia Highsmith: Her Diaries and Notebooks: 1941-1995.ā)
Even if Highsmith werenāt acclaimed for her mastery of suspense, she would be a queer hero.
In 1952, her novel āThe Price of Saltā was published under the pseudonym āClaire Morgan.ā (It was reissued in 1990 under the title āCarolā and with Highsmithās real name.)
Then, fiction featuring queer characters had to end unhappily: they died or went to jail. āThe Price of Salt,ā a rare exception, became a lesbian cult classic. Its protagonists end up together ā alive and not in prison.
āLoving Highsmithā deftly uses writings from her diaries and notebooks as well as interviews with her family and lovers to illuminate not only Highsmithās life and work but queer culture in the 1950s.
The film skillfully interweaves archival clips from interviews with Highsmith and famous film adaptations of her work with stories from her relatives and lovers. Gwendoline Christie (āGame of Thronesā) reads excerpts from Highsmithās work.
Too often watching documentaries of talented, deceased icons is deadly. You feel like youāre entombed in lifeless talking heads and stagnant images.
You donāt have to worry about āLoving Highsmith.ā Its talk and images make Highsmithās story come alive.
As the film makes clear, Highsmith was quite āloving.ā She had many lovers ā in New York, England, France and Germany. Despite trying to cure herself with analysis, Highsmith sexually liked women. āSexual intercourse [with men] is to me like steel wool to the face,ā she says.
Highsmithās mother, by the accounts of Highsmith herself, her family and her lovers, was a horror show. She told Highsmith that she was sorry she hadnāt aborted her. When Highsmith was 14, her mother berated her for āmaking noisesā like a āles.ā
New York had many gay bars in the 1950s, we learn from āLoving Highsmith.ā But homophobia was so rampant that you wouldnāt get off at a subway stop near a bar out of fear that a straight friend, family member, or co-worker would see you going into a queer bar.
There is one problem with āLoving Highsmith.ā It soft pedals Highsmithās anti-Semitism and racism. It mentions Highsmithās prejudices only once: saying Highsmith in her old age reverted to the bigotry of her grandparents.
Highsmithās bigotry grew more virulent in her old age. But, though she had Jewish friends, Highsmith was anti-Semitic throughout her life.
This doesnāt diminish Highsmithās literary achievement or iconic role in queer history. Anti-Semitism and racism were likely common in Texas where Highsmith was born and lived before moving to New York when she was six. āLoving Highsmithā is a thoughtful, informative documentary. It would have been more insightful if more attention had been paid to Highsmithās prejudices.
Even with this caveat, āLoving Highsmithā is a must-see documentary. It will send you racing to read the nearest Highsmith book at hand.
Movies
Director of āThey/Themā on queering the horror genre
John Logan puts conversion therapy where it belongs

Even if youāve never heard of John Logan, the odds are pretty good youāve heard his words.
Thatās because the former playwright, now writer and director of the new horror film āThey/Themā (premiering on Peacock Aug. 5), has been bringing his literate sensibilities to Hollywood screens for more than two decades now, earning three Oscar nominations during a career that has included screenplays for movies ranging from āGladiatorā to āSweeney Toddā to āStar Trek: Nemesis,ā not to mention a pair of James Bond blockbusters (āSkyfallā and āSpectreā). Heās also the man behind āPenny Dreadful,ā Showtimeās Victorian horror āmashupā series that became a cult sensation during its all-too-brief three season run.
Now Logan has returned to the horror genre he loves to make his debut as a feature film director, and heās brought more than just a queer sensibility. Heās brought a whole bloody queer story, as well.
Diving headlong into classic ā80s slasher movie territory from its very first frames, āThey/Themā brings together a collection of queer teens at a retreat deep in the woods ā the Whistler Camp, run by third-generation proprietor and chief counselor Owen Whistler (Kevin Bacon) ā where their parents have sent them in hopes of making them straight. Though the staff seems friendly and understanding enough at first, itās not long before the ātherapyā starts to become more aggressive; to make matters worse, a sinister outside presence seems to be menacing the camp, and the campers, led by trans nonbinary rebel Jordan (Theo Germaine), are soon fighting for their lives as well as their identities.
Apart from the genius of putting conversion therapy into a horror movie where it belongs, Loganās movie scores high points all around for solid LGBTQ representation. Indeed, itās as much a rousing queer empowerment story as it is a horror tale, and though hardcore horror geeks might find its scares to be relatively tame, it reaches beyond shock value to turn the genre itself into a vehicle for cinematic queerness ā something long overdue for the countless queer audiences who have always been drawn to horror.
The Blade talked with Logan about his vision for āThey/Themā on the eve of the filmās world premiere at LAās Outfest. Our conversation is below.
BLADE: Queer audiences have always loved horror movies, but horror movies havenāt loved them back until recently. Is that part of the reason behind this one?
JOHN LOGAN: That was the entire reason behind this one. When I was a kid, it would have meant so much to me to see a gay hero in a horror film. It’s a genre that SHOULD celebrate queerness, because horror is about the āotherā ā about the realization that people are not all the same. But queer characters in the ā70s and ā80s were mostly nonexistent, or they were jokes, or victims, or killers. They were never admirable people youād aspire to be. And horror cinema has always had a very complicated relationship with gender and sexual identity, even back to the 1930s and the classic Universal cycle of horror films ā except for āFrankenstein,ā made by a queer filmmaker, where the most sympathetic character is the monster.
When we engage with storytelling in cinema, we want to see ourselves represented in some way. I wanted to write the movie that I didnāt get to see when I was 14 or 15 years old.
BLADE: You mentioned wanting to see a gay hero. One of the things that stands out about your movie is that none of these kids are āscream queens.ā Theyāre all pretty heroic.
LOGAN: We wanted to take the tropes and subvert them completely. So, we have joyously celebrated things like, āThereās the camp in the woods, and itās scary, and thereās a masked killer, and the killer uses different weapons,ā and all the things I personally love about slasher movies ā but itās all in service of the great subversion, which is that these kids are not victims. They are not running and hiding, they are fighting for their identities. They are heroes.
BLADE: Speaking of subversion, the setting isnāt the only ācampā in the movie. Thereās a lot of humor in it, from a certain perspective.
LOGAN: [Laughs] I would like to think thereās a āraised eyebrowā throughout. I mean, we have a singing and dancing musical number in it, we have some outrageous humor in it, as well. Itās meant to be a sort of exuberant exploration of the queer lifestyle in all its forms, from the most extravagant to the most romantic to the most erotic ā as extreme as we could possibly get it. But itās all played very straight, which is a testament to the actors, really.
BLADE: Thatās another thing that stands out. You have a terrific cast, and Theo Germaine is a charismatic lead.
LOGAN: Thank God Theo fell into my lap. The movie begins, essentially, with Jordanās face and it ends with Jordanās face, so I knew it was really going to be important to find the right actor. Theo is so extraordinary, theyāre so accessible to the audience. My heart breaks watching that character, because theyāre emotional, but theyāre empowered and strong ā and thatās all from Theo.
Also, Iām not trans, Iām not nonbinary, and Iām also 60 ā so I had to ask Theo to help me understand this character ā not just the language around them, but how this young, trans, nonbinary human being moves through the world. And not only Theo, but Quei Tann and all the other actors were very generous with their own experiences, which is what, for me, makes them seem very authentic on screen, because they are playing versions of themselves that they can believe in.
BLADE: Thatās the difference authentic representation can make.
LOGAN: Yes, and it also helped that the process of shooting really mirrored the story, in a way. None of the actors knew each other, and they were suddenly in Georgia, all slammed together in the middle of nowhere with no phone reception ā and gradually, they built this tribe, this family, going through an experience much like the campers in the film go through. It was amazing to watch how they bonded and got together.
BLADE: One last thing ā for the cinema buffs among our readers, it will be impossible not to notice shots and references that seem like nods to some of their favorite classics of the past. Are those on purpose?
LOGAN: All intentional. I may never direct another movie as long as I live, so I want to tip my hat to all the movies I love. There are shots that are a direct mirror of āPsycho,ā for example, or āBlue Velvet,ā or obscure slasher movies like āThe Burningā that nobody would know but me ā and I worked really close with my DP, Lynne Moncrief, to find those moments. It felt important for us pay homage to the whole continuum of horror movies behind us, because we are building on all those as we try to step gingerly ā or bravely ā into a future where queer horror is finally the popular mainstream entertainment it deserves to be.
Movies
Porter makes directorial splash with āAnythingās Possibleā
An exploration of two shy kids feeling their way through first love

Hollywood has given us so many queer teen romances over the last few years that itās easy to forget a not-so-distant past when LGBTQ people had to grow up watching movies that only showed the pangs of first love through a heteronormative filter, and relate to the experience as best they could via the pretty straight kids enacting it on the screen. It was a take-what-you-can-get situation that left a lot of people feeling left out, isolated, and unseen.
That, among other things, is what makes āAnythingās Possible,ā premiering globally July 22 on Prime Video, a benchmark in the still-evolving queer teen romance genre ā because while many members of the LGBTQ community may now feel represented by movies like āLove, Simonā or āBooksmart,ā thereās still a large gap when it comes to love stories about teens who are trans. Directed by Billy Porter, in his feature film debut behind the lens, this buzzy new movie goes a long way toward filling that gap; and for good measure, it raises the bar for the genre itself.
The script, written by trans screenwriter Ximena GarcĆa Lecuona (another feature film first-timer), is a Gen Z tale of first love between two teens entering their senior year at a Pittsburgh high school: Kelsa (Eva Reign), a trans overachiever who plans to focus her confidence and determination on getting into a college as far away as possible, and Khal (Abubakr Ali), a sensitive ānice guyā with artistic leanings who has different ideas for his future than the high-intensity career track his Muslim parents have planned for him. Partnered for an art class assignment, these two seeming opposites have an instant spark, and despite obstacles in their social circles (this is high school after all), they eventually give in to their attraction. Almost immediately their newfound love is being put to the test, as they are forced to navigate the pitfalls of staying together through all the drama their ācouplehoodā has created in their lives ā just like any other pair of teenagers in love.
Lecuonaās script, inspired by a real-life Reddit thread involving a boy who asked advice on how to tell a trans girl that he liked her, is a cut above the usual amusing-but-forgettable teen rom-com for a lot of reasons; while it embraces and reinvents the familiar tropes of its genre, it doesnāt hesitate to go deeper. Like the ā80s John Hughes films to which it has already been compared, the movie allows space for a little goofy teen comedy while taking seriously the more complex and adult problems in its charactersā lives, and its savvy teenage perspective allows it to both celebrate and lampoon the absurdities of modern culture with razor sharp accuracy. Most significantly, it highlights and transcends trans issues in a story asserting that gender, biological or otherwise, has nothing to do with being in love. Kelsaās trans identity may play a part in the blowback she and Khal experience from the crowd at school, but itās irrelevant when they are alone together ā except when it comes to the delicately handled treatment of negotiating physical sexuality, a topic that few other films have managed with as much sensitivity.
All of this comes to life with pitch-perfect finesse under the guidance of Porter, whose bold and stylish directorial style and determination to ālift upā queer experience within the public imagination is evident in every choice he makes ā from the unapologetic soapboxing he allows himself to the behavioral modeling he drives home without making it feel forced. He has the attitude and vision to mine the storyās most essential points and bring them out, and the showmanship to keep us interested and entertained all the way. He embellishes the film with his personal touch ā even to the point of showcasing the Pittsburgh locations with the obvious love of a hometown boy ā and delivers a work that exhibits the same loud, proud, and loving dedication to shared humanity so abundantly clear in his performances on the stage and in front of the camera.
It would be unfair not to also credit the filmās cast for making āAnythingās Possibleā shine. Reign and Ali have a natural ease and chemistry together, and the intelligence and understanding they bring to their characters is the glue that holds the movie together. Courtnee Cox and Kelly Lamor Wilson give likeable, memorable turns as Kelsaās two BFFs, and RenĆ©e Elise Goldberry brings Broadway star power to the role of her fiercely protective mother.
Likewise, the efforts of Porter and Justin Tranter as music producers for the film should not be discounted; the infectious, lush, and dreamy pop music soundscape in which they bathe the film goes a long way toward creating its appeal ā and āAnythingās Possibleā has plenty of that, even for curmudgeonly adults.
There are moments, admittedly, when the movieās insistence on aspirational self-determinism threatens to overpower its delicate reverence for the freeing power of love. After all, Kelsa and Khal are exceptional teens, attractive, smart, and more self-aware than most of their peers; their families are supportive and emotionally available, and the school they attend would be a dream come true for most American students. In its efforts to uplift and inspire, the filmās idealized vision sometimes feels like it might be as inaccessible to many teen viewers as those straight Hollywood love stories were to our queer elders.
Still, even in this seemingly idyllic setting, the cruelty and ugliness of high school life intrudes, and transphobia is just one of many ugly human traits that lurk beneath the surface ā reminding us that such things are always there to hold us back. If we canāt quite believe in the movieās too-good-to-be-true world, perhaps itās because we recognize just how much we still must conquer to achieve it. In any case, this movie is far too wise to merely promote an agenda, and it ultimately rises beyond its sociopolitical messaging with its recognition that our individual realities are governed by the personal, not the political.
The romance between Kelsa and Khal moves us not because one of them is trans, but because it exists beyond such restrictive constructs. In a world of labels, each of them longs to be seen as something more; they rankle at being defined by their surface traits and long to be appreciated for the more nuanced qualities underneath. Their tentative steps toward a relationship are the awkward explorations of two shy kids feeling their way through first love, not savvy negotiations in a culture war, and itās a testament to the authenticity that comes from letting queer people tell their own stories that what we take away from this one has more to do with the happiness that comes from living beyond boundaries than it does with the empowerment that comes from breaking them.
Itās that state of mind that resonates throughout āAnythingās Possible,ā because most of the young people in the movie ā and, perhaps, watching it ā already live in a world where many of the boundaries that limit our humanity have already become meaningless.
If they can stay there, maybe their future is brighter than we think.
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