Connect with us

Arts & Entertainment

March on Washington Film Festival boasts stellar queer content

Hybrid format features films, panel discussions, theater, and VR lab

Published

on

Filmmaker Derrick L. Middleton shines a spotlight on Black barbershops at the March on Washington Film Festival. (Photo by Brian Brigantti)

Kevin Kodama, a 26-year-old, queer, Asian-American filmmaker, was saddened and angered by the rise in anti-Asian hate crimes during the pandemic. Then, he was a student studying film at San Francisco State University. “One of my professors encouraged me to channel my feelings {about the hate crimes} into a short film,” Kodama told the Blade.

Kodama took his professor’s advice. He wrote and directed “Shikata Ga Nai,” a poignant, compelling fantasy romance, set in a Japanese concentration camp where a lesbian couple attempts to reconcile their relationship as ghosts.

Kodama is one of the many filmmakers, theater legends and civil rights heros whose work will be showcased and honored at the March on Washington Film Festival (MOWFF) 2022 from Sept. 28 to Oct. 2.

MOWFF, in a hybrid in person and streaming format, will feature films, panel discussions, theatrical performances and the first-ever VR {virtual reality} Equity Lab in the Nation’s Capital. 

From its honorees to its emerging filmmakers, the Festival has a strong queer quotient.  

In its 10th year, the Festival celebrates African-American legends of theater and film who have advanced civil rights. Its theme this year is “STORY, STAGE & SCREEN.” To purchase tickets to the Festival, click here.

MOWFF was founded in 2013 on the 50th anniversary of the 1963 March on Washington. Now in its 10th year, the Festival uses the power of film, music, scholarship to tell untold stories of the  unsung heroes of the American Civil Rights movement. The Festival shares these narratives to connect the past to the present and the future. For information about the Festival go to: marchonwashingtonfilmfestival.org.

MOWFF is committed to highlighting stories at the intersection of racial and LGBTQIA+ justice, David Andrusia, executive director of the Festival, told the Blade.

“We want to correct stories that have been mistold,” Andrusia, who is gay, said, “Too many are silenced and kept from telling their stories.”

This year, the Festival will bestow the John Lewis Lifetime Legacy Award to Rep. Barbara Lee, a founding member and a Vice Chair of the Congressional LGBTQ+ Equality Caucus and the Chair of the Congressional HIV/AIDS Caucus.

MOWFF2022’s other honorees are George C. Wolfe, Tony-winning director of “Angels in America” whose upcoming film “Bayard Rustin” celebrates the gay rights legend, and pioneering lesbian publicist and producer Irene Gandy, a two-time Tony Award-winner. 

Lewis, Wolfe and Gandy will be honored on the Festival’s opening night.

Gandy, 78, is glad that MOWFF is being held now.  “So that young people can learn about and remember Black community activists and artists who’ve fought for civil rights,” she told the Blade.

It’s important that people not forget that Harry Belafonte, Nina Simone, Mahalia Jackson  and other artists were part of the 1963 March on Washington, Gandy said. “We have to honor the legacy and continue the activism of these artists,” she added.

Gandy doesn’t go into meetings thinking “I’m Black” or “I’m gay.” “That deafeats everything for everybody. It crowds all the good things out.”

There’s a long way to go, but things are changing, Gandy, who for over 50 years has been the only Black female press agent member of the Association of Theatrical Press Agents and Managers (ATPAM).

“There are more Black shows now – with Black actors and produces,” she said, “with more Black managers making decisions.”

In addition to being a groundbreaking press agent and producer, Gandy is a fashionista. In 2008, she became the first female press agent to be immortalized with a Sardi’s caricature. Known for her furs, in 2015, Gandy launched 

a signature collection featured in “Vogue” and her Lady Irene Fur line debuted earlier this year.

On a recent evening as she walked out of a theater on to Broadway, Gandy had an awesome encounter with a father and his five-year-old child. “The child was trans,” she said, “the child was biologically a boy. But when the Dad called him by a boy’s name, the child said ‘I’m a girl.’”

“This little, trans person didn’t know who I was – that I had won the Tonys,” Gandy said, “but she said to me ‘I love your style!’”

If they know who they are, everyone has a story to tell, she added.

The stories to be highlighted at the Festival include “Maurice Hines: Bring Them Back,” an intimate portrait of the trailblazing Black entertainer; “Mankiller,” a documentary about Wilma Mankiller, who became the Cherokee Nation’s first Principal Chief in 1985; and “The Defenders,” about lawyers who fought for civil rights in Mississippi in the early years of the civil rights movement.

After his meeting with his professor, Kodama had the idea of doing a story set in the concentration camps where Japanese Americans were interred during World War II. 

“It’s a way of bridging the history of anti-Asian policies of that time with the anti-Asian racism and hate crimes of today,” he said.

Queer people who were interred during the War had to be closeted. “For most of the decades after the War, queer people were left out of stories told about the camps,” Kodama said.

“Because of homophobia – discomfort with queerness,” he added, “people didn’t talk about it. Same-sex couples had to pass as friends.”

“Shikata Ga Nai” was filmed on the site of one of the camps – Manzanar in Inyo County, California (a National Historic Site run by the National Park Service). “One of the nice things about my film is it will get people to talk about it {queer people in the camps} who haven’t talked about it.” (The film will be shown at MOWFF as part of the Student and Emerging Filmmaker Competitions.)

Derrick L. Middleton, a talented, 35-year-old, Black, gay filmmaker, uses his art to tell stories.

Middleton, born in Harlem in New York City, knew as a little boy that he was different. “I wasn’t yet labeled as ‘gay,’ but I felt like I didn’t fit in,” he told the Blade.

“It felt unnatural to try to be masculine in the way I was expected to be,” he added.

He, like other Black queer men, ran up against hyper-masculinity, when he went to a barbershop.

“Barbershops are critically important to the Black community,” Middleton said, “I want to honor them.”

When Black people were enslaved, one of the few things they could learn was how to cut hair, Middleton said. “When they were freed, owning a barbershop was one of the few businesses they could run,” he added.

But, heteronormity rules in many Black barbershops. Subtle or overt anti-queer slur often make you feel unsafe if you’re queer and Black in a Black barbershop.

“I had already come out to my family and friends,” Middleton said, “but I felt, to be safe, I had to go back into the closet when I went to a the barbershop.”

One day, he became angry and scared when he went to a Black barbershop. “The barber told me that he didn’t cut hair for sissies,” Middleton said.

He was so frightened that he couldn’t think of anything to say and ran out of the barbershop.

Out of this experience, Middleton made “Shape Up: Gay in the Black Barbershop,” an eye-opening, engrossing, moving documentary short about the stories of himself and other queer Black men in Black barbershops. The film premiered in 2016 at the White House and was awarded the Grand Prize for Emerging Documentary by the March on Washington Film Festival.

“I never thought that I, a boy who grew up in Harlem, would get an award at a White House ceremony when the country had a Black president,” Middleton said, “It was a dream come true.”

This year, Middleton has been selected for a VR Equity Lab and Fellowship. His work will be showcased in the Festival’s VR Equity Lab. Middleton’s VR Equity Lab project “Shape Up: Gay in the Black Barbershop” (The Series). The series is a spinoff that takes viewers on a journey to barbershops from different countries in the African Diaspora, using 360-degree video and animated interactive scenes to give viewers an immersive experience from the perspective of LGBTQ people.

“I hope that the Series will be mainstreamed on a platform like Hulu or Netflix,” Middleton said, “so that people who aren’t able to access it through VR will be able to see it.” 

Advertisement
FUND LGBTQ JOURNALISM
SIGN UP FOR E-BLAST

Photos

PHOTOS: Winchester Pride

Annual LGBTQ celebration held at the Museum of the Shenandoah Valley

Published

on

A scene from the 2026 Winchester Pride Festival on Saturday, Oct. 3. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

The 2026 Winchester Pride Festival was held at the Museum of the Shenandoah Valley in Winchester, Va. on Saturday, Oct. 3.

(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)

Continue Reading

Theater

‘Merrily’ is for Sondheim super fans, the uninitiated, and anyone in between

Experience it in an intimate setting with beautiful design, incredible cast

Published

on

Jason Gotay plays Frank Shepard in ‘Merrily We Roll Along.’

‘Merrily We Roll Along’
Through Nov. 1
Signature Theatre
4200 Campbell Ave., Arlington, Va.
Tickets start at $47
Sigtheatre.org

Unfaithful. Compromised. A sellout. Just a few descriptors that might fit Frank Shepard, the talented composer in the Stephen Sondheim musical “Merrily We Roll Along.”

“Personally, I think he gets a bad rap,” says Jason Gotay, the gay actor who’s currently playing womanizing Frank at Signature Theatre in Arlington. “At his core he wants to be loved. He’s concerned with making those around him happy and he’s a people pleaser. That’s my window into Frank.”

Whatever your thoughts, by show’s end, we know Frank started out as a nice guy. “Merrily” famously moves in a reverse chronological order. We meet Frank and friends, lyricist Charley Kringas (Jake Loewenthal) and writer Mary Flynn (Melanie Field), disillusioned in a New York penthouse in 1976. Ensuing scenes filled with disappointments and broken relationships move toward more hopeful times, eventually leaving the trio on a rooftop in 1957, young and full of promise searching the night sky for a happy future.

“Moving backward makes it difficult to build on the prior scene,” explains Gotay. 37. “You live heightened moments followed by 30-second costume changes, and you’re meant to forget everything you just did. To be honest, it’s a bit of a mind fuck.”

A marvelous but humble tenor, he begrudgingly acknowledges his artistic versatility. At New York City Center he sang Che in “Evita” (contemporary almost operatic), and he was solemn Henrik in Lincoln Center’s “A Little Night Music,” (classical Sondheim). On Broadway, he played Homer, the loyal brother in “Floyd Collins” (folksy bluegrass), and he’s sung the sweeping songs of a few Disney princes.

“I’m asked to do a lot of things because vocally I sing in many styles; it’s something I can do and I love doing it.”

Growing up in residential Dyker Heights, Brooklyn, Gotay was immersed in school plays and community theater. For high school, he attended the Professional Performing Arts School in midtown Manhattan with a focus on musical theater.

He continued on the same track for a year at Emerson College in Boston followed by Marymount Manhattan before graduating in 201l. A year later, he made his Broadway debut as Randall in Lin-Manuel Miranda’s hip-hop inspired “Bring It On: The Musical.”

Along the way, Gotay became a huge Sondheim fan. As a musical theater kid, he was introduced to the composer’s enduring classics all written before Gotay was born: “Into the Woods,” “Sweeney Todd,” and the actor’s forever favorite “Sunday in the Park with George.”

To many theatergoers’ surprise, “Merrily” flopped badly when it premiered on Broadway in 1981. But over many years of tweaks, reimaginings and revivals, the show became a major Broadway hit in 2023, with Jonathan Groff winning a Tony Award for playing Frank.

While he was aware of “Merrily,” Gotay didn’t make a deep dive into its wild provenance until he was asked to audition for the Broadway revival. (Briefly it looked like Groff, long attached to the show, might come up against some film conflicts.) It was during this short time that Gotay fell in love with Frank.

The experience left him further determined to sink his teeth into the complex character along with Sondheim’s lush melodic score with songs like “Not a Day Goes By,” “Old Friends,” and “Our Time.” So, when Gotay learned that Signature was slated to do “Merrily” this season, he reached out to Matthew Gardiner, the company’s artistic director as well as the production’s director/choreographer, asking how the role of Frank might be his. Long story short, he sought it, got it, and is ecstatically happy that it has worked out.

Several years ago, when Audible (Audible.com) came calling with an invitation to record a cabaret entirely of his own creation, he was thrilled.

“It’s probably the most personal thing I’ve ever done. My own story is a love letter to the women – my mother, friends, mentors, Broadway icons – who helped to shape my life; it’s about self-acceptance and what it is to grow up queer.”

He titled the solo show “Where You’ll Find Me,” a nod to his first love Dorothy Gale from “The Wizard of Oz.”

Often described as “a television heartthrob” (something the once chubby 12-year-old sometimes finds hard to process), Gotay is not unfamiliar with screens large and small. He’s remembered for various screen roles including his turn as Rafa Caparros, a prep school classics teacher who becomes entangled with a male student in HBO Max’s reboot of “Gossip Girl.”

Gotay recommends Signature’s “Merrily” for Sondheim superfans, the uninitiated, and anyone in between. He says, “It’s a great opportunity to learn about this once niche now increasingly mainstream musical. And if you have seen it before, this is a chance to experience it in an intimate setting with beautiful design and an incredible cast that truly brings the show to life.”

Continue Reading

Television

Engrossing ‘Tip Toe’ delivers tension and an ominous warning

A chilling reminder that violent homophobia is on the rise

Published

on

Alan Cumming and David Morrissey in ‘Tip Toe.’ (Photo courtesy of Channel 4/Starz)

Whenever a new project comes from queer Welsh screenwriter and producer Russell T Davies – who created the original “Queer As Folk” in 1999 before spearheading the revival of the classic BBC sci-fi series “Dr. Who” as head writer and showrunner in the mid-2000s – it generally leaps to the top of every queer “must watch” list, and with good reason.

A genuinely versatile creative force who can move easily between genres without losing the core of humanity that keeps us engaged, he’s particularly known for his unequivocal, unsentimental, and always fearlessly candid narratives about queer life, set within a social context that’s barely tolerant, at best. He has a knack for capturing both the transient beauty and persistent hardships that seem to define our beleaguered community. His most recent such endeavor, 2021’s “It’s a Sin,” took us back to the harrowing years of the AIDS epidemic, following a group of gay young Londoners as the disease – and the societal homophobia that surrounded it – wreaked its merciless havoc, even as they began to break free from their closets and embrace their queer identities; and while it may have broken our hearts, it was also somehow empowering, a tale that reminded us not just of what we lost, but of what we have survived.

His latest miniseries, however, takes place in the here and now, and it offers a markedly bleaker assessment of the state of things.

“Tip Toe,” which appeared on the UK’s Channel 4 last summer, debuts on U.S. screens via the Starz streaming service on Oct. 2, and it lets us know from its first few minutes that things are not going to end well; that’s not a spoiler – it’s a warning, because if you’re looking for a happy ending, you’re not going to find it here.

A tale of resurgent and emboldened homophobia in a modern-day Britain where open hate for the queer community has surged at an alarming rate, it’s the story of two men whose intertwining destinies feel almost like a tragic accident of fate. Leo (Alan Cumming) is a Gen-X AIDS survivor who has become a beloved figure in Manchester’s queer community, the owner of a popular gay bar that has always been a safe space for the queer, trans, and questioning souls who are struggling toward self-acceptance; his next-door neighbor, Clive (David Morrissey), is a working-class electrician with a floundering marriage and two sons who live secret lives he knows nothing about. He’s an old-school “macho man” whose ingrained misogyny and homophobia have grown increasingly unfiltered with the rise of online “culture war” rhetoric; and while there’s a kind of forced “neighborly” friendship between himself and Leo, there’s also a clear-cut line of judgement – on both sides – that gives their interactions a sense of barely concealed hostility.

When Leo is locked out of his apartment after a messy hook-up gone wrong, Clive comes to his rescue, but uses the opportunity to impose himself on Leo’s privacy. He levies the situation into an opportunity for work – an electrical revamp of Leo’s bar, where he makes no secret of his  disdain for the queer “lifestyle” – and the tension between them continues to build despite Leo’s best efforts at being polite. The escalation reaches a boiling point when the secrets and lies in his own household lead Clive to suspect Leo of being a sexual predator, turning their precarious relationship into a minefield of hostility and inevitably pushing both men into a confrontation that will end in a shocking act of violence.

It might go without saying that “Tip Toe” is not the kind of show most of us would watch “for fun.” Russell’s script starts the relationship between its two antagonists at the threshold between a simmer and a boil, and shows us the outcome before either of them has even said a word, so it’s mostly impossible to avoid the sense of dread that hangs over everything that comes after. This is not a weakness; instead, aided by Peter Hoar’s masterful direction, it gives the show’s five episodes a slow build of tension that keeps us watching with morbid fascination, like the scene of a horrible road accident we’re forced to drive past in slow motion. We’re allowed to feel some hope along the way – after all, we’ve only had a glimpse of what is to happen, and there are other characters with storylines in which we can become invested along the way – but it’s a kind of grim hope, and it perfectly captures the fearful cultural zeitgeist-of-the-moment that the series is ultimately about.

The characters, too, are richly drawn and layered enough to avoid a simplistic “good guy/bad guy” dynamic. Clive is a brute – arrogant, uncivil, and forcefully antagonistic with a hair trigger that responds to anything or anyone that doesn’t meet his approval – but there’s enough broken humanity underneath all that to allow us to see a glimmer of potential for redemption. Likewise, Leo is mostly good-natured and likable, but he has an arrogance of his own, as well as some bitter resentments (most of them related to his ex-husband Curtis played by Charlie Condou), who left him for a woman), which – more than occasionally – surface to provide him with some ugly moments.

There are others, too; Melba (Paul Rhys), Leo’s gender-bending longtime bestie, who sees the growing danger in the world around them and voices it with the resigned stoicism of a reluctant Cassandra; Steph (Elizabeth Barrington), Leo’s straight friend who is not afraid to let him know when he’s too full of himself; Saul (Joseph Evans), Clive’s 20-something son who has evolved a more tolerant and easy-going outlook than his father, and teenaged George (Jackson Connor), Clive’s other son, whose struggles with his own identity take him on a roller-coaster ride of conflicted emotions; Marie (Pookie Quesnel), the wife who despises Clive but is unable to escape her unhappy existence with him; and Zee (Iz Hekseth), Leo’s employee who is trying to choose a name for herself after coming out as trans – along with a variety of other young, queer supporting players who have found refuge at the bar. All of them are written with depth and nuance, even those who remain more or less in the background, and brought to life through excellent, measured performances.

It is, however, Cumming and Morrissey who give the show its irresistible pull, their complex, bristling characters endowed with a palpable authenticity that makes us forget they are merely actors playing roles. They fully inhabit these two thorny men, creating a dynamic between them that feels like a force of nature, and it’s they who provide the terrible power that keeps us from looking away, no matter how much we might occasionally want to.

That’s a good thing, because “Tip Toe” is less a television event than it is a grim reminder that being “out” may no longer be as safe as we were finally beginning to think it was – and just because the alarm bell is coming from the UK, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t heed its warning on our side of the Atlantic, too.

Continue Reading

Popular