Movies
‘Studio One’ chronicles nightclub’s decadent reign as queen of queer LA nightlife
New documentary premieres at OutFest
We know you’ve heard of Studio 54, the iconic New York City dance club that became almost synonymous with the hedonistic lifestyle of the 1970s disco scene, but before it ever opened its doors there was already Studio One, and if you’ve heard of that one, you’re probably from Los Angeles.
Founded in 1974 by part-owner Scott Forbes in the upstairs space above a furniture store, the West Hollywood nightclub was a hotspot in LA during through the peak of the disco years until its closing in 1993. Explicitly conceived as a haven for gay men, it was known for its youthful clientele, celebrity patrons, and notoriously hedonistic vibe; it became even more of a draw with the opening of “The Backlot,” an adjacent performance venue that featured some of the biggest “A-list” acts of the era.
The story of Studio One has long been buried and neglected, overshadowed and out-excessed by the scandal-ridden saga of its more famous Manhattan cousin, but thanks to filmmaker Marc Saltarelli, it’s finally getting its due as a seminal part of queer cultural history. His film – “Studio One Forever,” a documentary that chronicles the nightclub’s decadent reign as the queen of queer nightlife in LA and follows the effort to preserve the building that housed it – has its world premiere screening at LA’s OutFest on July 18, and while it might not yet be available to a wider audience, it’s bound to draw attention as an important document of an era when queer culture was bursting – through the phenomenon of disco – into the mainstream.
Framed by the modern-day story of former patrons, now local community leaders, spearheading the campaign to save the club’s historic building from demolition, it’s a widely scoped exploration of the Studio One legacy that draws heavily on archival material, personal reminiscences, and hindsight, unearthing a history that took place mostly in secret – or as much so as was possible for a nightclub frequented by some of Hollywood’s biggest stars, both new and old. It’s an engrossing watch, full of interviews with Studio One-adjacent celebs like Bruce Vilanch, Chita Rivera, Thelma Houston, Melissa Rivers, Julie Budd and more, and loaded with anecdotal tidbits alongside the corroborative testimony that gives them the weight of lived experience; more than that it offers a microcosmic look at queer life from the giddy freedom of the sexually liberated 1970s through the decimation of the AIDS era and beyond, into an age when survivors of that time have empowered themselves to reclaim their own history – something that becomes nearly visceral by the extensive photographic record of life inside the club itself, much of it made possible through a chance discovery, covered in the film, which we won’t spoil.
Speaking to Saltarelli before his movie’s debut, we learned that although he had been to Studio One after moving to Los Angeles in 1984, his interest in making a film about it began in 2018, when a friend and former Backlot producer told him about a reunion party for the club that was planned to help drum up support for a “Save the Factory” campaign, in hopes of persuading West Hollywood city officials that the space that once housed the legendary club was worth saving. It was suggested to him that the story would make a good documentary.
“I had been to the club when I was 19, after I had moved from Illinois, and I had those memories – but I had no idea what had happened before I got there, or after,” Saltarelli tells us. “So, I started doing the research, and the women who started ‘Save the Factory’ had put together a 30-or-40-page, detailed, historical document – it actually got official ‘historical preservation status’ – where they interviewed a lot of people that I would end up interviewing later. When I read that, I was like, ‘Wow, there’s an amazing story here that not many people know about.’ I certainly didn’t.”
There were funding challenges, of course, and other logistical obstacles that had to be worked out before he could start the project, but thanks to a postponement of the planned reunion, the filmmaker was able to get things together in time to film that occasion, including extensive interviews with former patrons waiting in line to get in – just like in the old days.
He also gained access to film inside the building, giving him the opportunity to gather a core group of former Studio One regulars – including John Jude Duran, a West Hollywood City Council member and veteran of multiple terms as the town’s mayor – to reminisce on camera within the space in which they had spent so many hours of their younger lives.
“We were able to film the club’s front bartender, Michael Koth, at his old station,” he says, “which was really amazing.” Koth, who used to put lines of complementary cocaine on the bar for patrons, is now a respected health and wellness practitioner.
The flagrant encouragement of drug use at Studio One is just one of the less-than-savory aspects that Saltarelli includes in his documentary, though it takes nothing away from the joyous nostalgia that infuses it. Another is the inevitable discussion of the club’s well-documented racist-and-classist admission policies, which led to controversy and protest even in the “pre-woke” environment of the 1970s and ‘80s.
“Scott Forbes’ vision was to have a place for gay white men only,” Saltarelli tells us. “He didn’t come right out and say it, but he had this ‘no open-toed shoes’ policy as a way of keeping women out, and he didn’t want people of color to be a part of it. They had to have three forms of ID, sometimes, it was just ridiculous.
“Scott had his flaws. I don’t believe he was racist, but he was a businessman, and it was a business decision – and the times were different. It’s not to trash Scott, but I didn’t want to gloss over it, it’s the way it was. Some people deny it, but frankly, that’s because they’re white and they never saw it happening.”
Though “Studio One Forever” has an inherently local focus, Saltarelli has been pleased to find enthusiasm for his project coming from all across the country – and he believes he understands why it strikes a chord for so many people who never set foot in the club itself.
“It’s a universal story for our queer community,” he muses. “It represents our youth, our coming-of-age, it resonates not only with incredibly happy times but also the tragedy of the eighties that still lives with us. All those emotions and memories come back, and most of the people in these photographs, unfortunately, aren’t with us anymore.
“I also like to think it’s a way of honoring those people, who gave so much. They didn’t ask to die, but because of them we were mobilized as a community and that’s why we’ve been able to attain further rights – even though some people are trying to erase those now.”
In truth, queer safe spaces like Studio One are also being erased, even in the LGBTQ+ mecca of West Hollywood – which makes the history related by Saltarelli’s movie even more valuable.
Movies
Trans MMA star battles prejudice in ‘Unfightable’ doc
A harrowing, heartbreaking, inspiring portrait of Alana McLaughlin
It’s no surprise that the fall movie landscape finds an unusually large number of films – most of them documentaries – about trans people and the challenges they face in trying to achieve an identity that matches their own sense of self.
Transgender rights or even acceptance have never been in such a precarious place within the American political landscape since queer rights were acknowledged at all in the mainstream conversation. After eight years of ramped-up efforts by anti-trans activists to essentially legislate them out of legal existence, trans people find themselves facing a divisive and uncomfortably close election that will likely have an existential impact on their future, accompanied by persistent and vocal efforts by the conservative right-wing crowd to ostracize and stigmatize them within public perception. They’re not the only target, but they are the most vulnerable one – especially within the evangelical strongholds that might swing the election one way or the other – and that means a lot of conservative crosshairs are trained directly on them.
It’s a position they’re used to, unfortunately, which is precisely why there are so many erudite and artistic voices within the trans community emerging, prepared by years of experience and education gained from dealing with persistent transphobic dogma in American culture, to illuminate the trans experience and push back against the efforts of political opportunists by letting their stories speak for themselves. Surely there is no weapon against hatred more potent than empathy – once we recognize our own reflection in those we demonize, it’s hard to keep ourselves from recognizing our shared humanity, too – and perhaps no more potent way of conveying it than through the most visceral artistic medium of all: filmmaking
Particularly timely, in the wake of an Olympics marked by controversy over the participation of Algeria’s Imane Khelif and Taiwan’s Lin Yu-ting in the women’s competition, is “Unfightable,” from producer/director Marc J. Perez. Offering up a harrowing, heartbreaking, and ultimately inspiring portrait of Alana McLaughlin – a U.S. Army Special Forces sergeant who, following gender transition, turned female MMA fighter only to face resistance and transphobic prejudice within the rarified cultural microcosm of professional sports – while also taking a deep dive into the world of Mixed Martial Arts and the starkly divided attitudes of those who work within it, it aims to turn one person’s trans experience into a metaphor for the struggle of an entire community to be recognized and accepted on its own terms. For the most part, it succeeds.
Unlike many such biography-heavy documentaries, “Unfightable” allows its subject – the charismatic and outspoken McLaughlin, whose presence rightly dominates the film and leaves the most lingering impression – to narrate her own story, without interpretation or commentary from “talking head” experts. From the grim-but-all-too-familiar story of her upbringing in a deeply religious family (and yes, conversion “therapy” was involved) through her struggle to define her identity via a grueling military career, her eventual transition, and her emergence as only the second transfeminine competitor in the professional MMA arena and beyond, Perez treats most of the movie’s narrative thrust like an extended one-on-one interview, in which McLaughlin delivers the story as she experienced it. This one-on-one honest expression is effectively counterpointed by the rhetoric of other MMA personalities who participated in the film, some of which is shockingly transphobic despite protestations of having “nothing against” trans people.
At the same time, the film acknowledges and amplifies supportive voices within the MMA, whose efforts to bring McLaughlin into the fold were not only successful, but ultimately led to her victorious 2021 match against French fighter Celine Provost. It’s a tale that hits all the touchstone marks of queer/trans experience for those whose lives can’t really begin until they break free of their oppressive origins, and whose fight to claim an authentic life for themself is frequently waged against both the families who ostensibly love them and the prejudices of a society eager to condemn anything that deviates from the perceived “norm”. Naturally, as a story of individual determination, self-acceptance, and success against the odds, its main agenda is to draw you in and lift you up; but it does so while still driving home the point about how far the road still stretches ahead before trans athletes – and by extension, trans people in general – are afforded the same legitimacy as everyone else.
To ensure that reality is never forgotten or taken lightly, we are offered some pretty egregious examples; from prominent fighters who insist they “have no problem” with trans people as a preface for their transphobic beliefs about trans athletes, to McLaughlin’s long wait before finding another MMA pro who was willing to fight her we are confronted with a pattern of prejudice blocking her path forward. And though it documents her triumph, it reminds us that three years later, despite her accomplishments, she has yet to find another MMA pro willing to give her another bout.
If nothing else, though, “Unfightable” underscores a shift in attitudes that reflects the progress – however slow or maddeningly hard-won it may be – of trans people carving out space for themselves in a social environment still largely hostile to their success or even their participation. As McLaughlin’s journey illustrates, it takes dogged persistence and a not-insignificant level of righteous anger to even pierce the skin of the systemic transphobia that still opposes the involvement of people like her in sports; her experience also bears witness to the emboldened bigotry that has doubled-down on its opposition to trans acceptance since the 2016 election of a certain former president who is now seeking a second chance of his own – highlighting the dire consequences at stake for the trans community (and, let’s face it, the entire queer community alongside every other group deplored and marginalized by his followers) should his efforts toward a comeback prove successful.
Yet as grim an outlook as it may acknowledge, “Unfightable” doesn’t leave viewers with a belief in sure defeat; in the toughness of its subject – who is, as it proudly makes clear, a veteran of combat much more directly dangerous than anything she will ever encounter in the ring – and her refusal to simply give up and go away, it kindles in us the same kind of dogged resistance that fueled her own transcendence of a toxic personal history and allowed her to assert her identity – triumphantly so, despite the transphobia that would have kept her forever from the prize.
That’s a spirit of determination that we all could use to help drive us to victory at the polls come November. Like Alana McLaughlin, we have neither the desire nor the ability to go back to the way our lives were before, and Perez’s documentary helps us believe we have the strength to keep it from happening.
“Unfightable” opened for a limited release in New York on Sept. 13 and begins another in Los Angeles on Sept. 20. It will air on ViX, the leading Spanish-language streaming service in the world, and in English on Fuse TV, following its theatrical run.
It might be too soon to get excited about the movies we know are coming later in the year – like the first installment of the big-screen adaptation of “Wicked” or Pedro Almodóvar’s first English language movie “The Room Next Door” – but that doesn’t mean there’s still not plenty to look forward to as their time draws nearer. As always, we’ve compiled a preview of the most interesting LGBTQ and related content coming to movie and TV screens over the weeks ahead, so get ready to plan out your own watchlist as you keep reading below.
“The English Teacher” (Hulu, now streaming): In its publicity blurb, we’re told that educators being forced to navigate “a lot of bullshit” as a result of the ongoing culture wars is a theme that runs “subtly” through this new workplace comedy created by and starring Brian Jordan Alvarez, which is putting it mildly to say the least. Centering on an Austin high school teacher who comes under fire after a student sees him making out with his boyfriend at school, it’s a giddily up-front social satire that skewers not only the hypersensitivity of our current era but the counter-productive absurdity of an education system more concerned with placating political pressures than passing on knowledge; it’s already emerged as a critical darling among the new shows of the Fall Season – which is great news for Alvarez, a talented performer (best known as Jack’s husband-to-be in the rebooted “Will and Grace” and his viral video content on Instagram and TikTok) overdue for the mainstream spotlight.
“Lover Of Men: The Untold Story of Abraham Lincoln” (theaters, now playing; streaming/VOD, TBA this fall): Earnest, passionate, yet delivered with a light touch, this sure-to-be-controversial new doc addresses the much-speculated question of our iconic 16th president’s sexuality with a trove of well-documented evidence, presented by a host of respected historians and bolstered by amusingly modernistic re-enactments of the Great Emancipator’s supposed intimate liaisons with various men during key parts of his life. More than that, it ties its narrative to the way America’s attitudes and acceptance of LGBTQ people has evolved into contemporary times while also discrediting many modern assumptions about the ways the community has been treated in the past. It may not convince the die-hard doubters, but this polished and politically hopeful effort from filmmaker Shaun Peterson is as hard to dismiss as it is entertaining, and it definitely belongs on your watch list.
“Seeking Mavis Beacon” (theaters, Sept. 13): After a limited release on Sept. 6, this documentary expands nationwide this week with a “DIY detective story” about the search for the unknown and un-credited real-life model whose image was used as the face of “Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing” – a widely used instructional computer typing program launched in 1987 – that serves as a launch pad to explore a whole spectrum of sociological and philosophical nuances related to race, ethical marketing, and the impact of technology on culture and communication. With two queer women of color – director Jazmin Jones and associate producer Olivia McKayla Ross – leading the onscreen investigation, it’s an unusual and thought-provoking think piece that is as entertaining as it is enlightening.
“The Critic” (theaters, Sept. 13): Venerated queer elder and acting legend Ian McKellen returns to the screen in this deliciously dark tale of period intrigue from director Anand Tucker and writer Patrick Marber, in which a notoriously poison-penned theater critic (McKellen) in 1934 London attempts to preserve his career by manipulating an ambitious young actress (Gemma Arterton) into a sinister scheme to influence his paper’s new editor (Mark Strong). Lush costumes and period settings, not to mention an assortment of top-notch thespians that also includes Alfred Enoch, Ben Barnes, and the always-exquisite Lesley Manville, all make this grimly macabre morality tale about the dangers of an unbridled ego an unmistakable product of the UK – and it’s likely fans of “BritTV” style costume dramas will be most appreciative of its somewhat old-fashioned charms. Even so, another deftly over-the-top performance from McKellen and an underlying exploration of hazards of leading an openly queer life within a comfortably homophobic status quo are enough to make it interesting for other audiences, too.
“Unfightable” (theaters, Sept. 13 in New York and Sept. 20 in LA; Fuse TV, October TBA): Another new doc tells the story of transgender MMA fighter Alana McLaughlin, from her difficult upbringing and service in the US Special Forces, through her transition and search for community in Portland, to her decision to seek professional status in an arena notorious for its bias against transgender athletes. A real-life narrative highlighting the bravery it can take to assert one’s true identity, this must-see offering from director Marc J. Perez only screens in New York and LA this month, but debuts on Fuse TV in October.
“Will and Harper” (theaters, Sept. 13 / Netflix, Sept. 27): Yet another doc – or is it a non-fiction “road trip buddy movie?” – is set apart from the rest by the star power on the screen: namely Will Farrell, who goes on a cross-country drive with close friend Harper Steele, a writer he met on his first day working on “Saturday Night Live” in 1995. The twist? Steele, whom Farrell had only known as a man, had come out to him as a trans woman, and the trip is their way of forging a new path forward in their friendship “through laughter, tears, and many cans of Pringles.” Funny, intimate, honest, and heartfelt, this is one of those movies that has Hollywood abuzz, and with good reason – its unequivocal and highly visible exploration of trans identity comes with considerable industry clout in the form of its star (who is joined by fellow SNL alums like Seth Meyers, Tina Fey, Kristen Wiig, Colin Jost, Will Forte, Molly Shannon, Tim Meadows, and Paula Pell) and promotes unconditional love and acceptance toward trans people on the cusp of an election in which their rights and protections are very much at stake. Needless to say, this one should be near the top of your watch list.
“My Old Ass” (theaters, limited Sept. 13, wide Sept. 27): Just in time for the new psychedelic revolution comes this comical coming-of-age story in which free-spirited Elliott (Maisy Stella) takes an 18th birthday mushroom trip and finds herself face-to-face with her own 39-year-old self (Aubrey Plaza). Her “old ass” has some pretty strong opinions about what her younger self should and shouldn’t be doing, and doesn’t hesitate to deliver them in between wisecracks – causing Elliott to second-guess everything she thought she knew about family, love and what increasingly appears to be a transformative summer ahead. Written and directed by Megan Park, and also featuring Percy Hynes White, Maddie Ziegler, and Kerrice Brooks, this one is notable for featuring a bisexual central character, which is more than enough for us to put it on our list.
“How to Die Alone” (Hulu, Sept. 13): In this comedy series co-created by and starring Natasha Rothwell, Mel is a “broke, fat, Black JFK airport employee who’s never been in love and forgotten how to dream” – until an accident leads to a near-death experience. Jarred into a new outlook on life, she throws herself into a quest to go out and start living by any means necessary. Rothwell’s strong talents are enough to bring us to the table, but out gay co-star Conrad Ricamora (“How to Get Away With Murder,” “Fire Island”), as Mel’s best friend, definitely ups our interest level for this promising new entry.
“Agatha All Along” (Disney +, Sept. 18): We all know Marvel has been struggling to please its fans with its ambitious slate of TV content, but one hands-down winner for the titanic franchise was certainly the imaginative and ultimately powerful “WandaVision” – and this new miniseries, which stems directly from that critically lauded entry into the MCU canon, is breathlessly anticipated as a consequence. It follows the further misadventures of villainous Agatha Harkness (Kathryn Hahn), who (according to the official synopsis) “finds herself down and out of power after a suspicious goth teen [Joe Locke, ‘Heartstopper’] helps break her free” from the spell that trapped her at the conclusion of the former series. When he asks her to take him down the legendary “Witches’ Road,” a series of dangerous magical trials that might help her restore her powers, her interest is piqued, so the pair gathers a “desperate coven” and sets off on the treacherous journey together. Hahn’s reprisal of her fabulously campy supervillain role is likely to be the main attraction, but including the adorable Locke as her gay new teen familiar is a brilliantly irresistible touch.
“Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story” (Netflix, Sept.19): Ryan Murphy and Ian Brennan’s true-crime anthology series “Monster” follows up its award-winning “Dahmer” saga by exploring the story of the real-life titular brothers, convicted in 1996 for the murders of their parents, José and Mary Louise “Kitty” Menendez – successfully prosecuted on the argument that they were motivated by greed for the family fortune despite the brothers’ claims of lifelong physical, emotional, and sexual abuse. It was a shocking, heavily publicized case, launching a surge in audience fascination with true crime, and let’s face it – nobody has quite the same golden touch in getting to the humanity behind these kinds of lurid tabloid tales as the prolific Murphy. It’s a must-watch, you can count on it – though if it’s anywhere near as disturbing as the show’s inaugural season, it probably won’t be a binge-watch. Javier Bardem and Chloë Sevigny play the parents, with relative newcomers Cooper Koch and Nicholas Alexander Chavez as the boys.
“Brilliant Minds” (NBC, Sept. 23) Out gay actor Zachary Quinto stars in this new medical procedural, loosely based on the life and work of Dr. Oliver Sacks, the famed late doctor whose work helped reconfigure the way we understand and treat neurological disorders – but while the real Sacks, though gay, didn’t come out until late in life, the series “re-imagines” his story into modern New York, giving Quinto’s version of the doc the chance to not only be open about his sexuality, but to use some unorthodox practices to help his patients. It might sound a bit forced, but Quinto is always an interesting actor to watch, and any chance to get queer talent playing queer characters in queer stories is good enough to warrant a chance from us, too.
“Grotesquerie” (Sept. 25, FX): The season’s second Ryan Murphy show is this miniseries about a small community unsettled by a wave of heinous crimes – which feel to the town’s lead investigator (Niecy Nash) to be eerily personal. Struggling with issues at home (and her own inner demons), she enlists the aid of a journalist nun (Micaela Diamond) with a difficult past of her own; together, this mismatched team strings together clues as they find themselves snared in a sinister web that only seems to raise more questions than answers. Yes, that all sounds pretty vague and evokes “American Horror Story” vibes without revealing anything – but with Nash as its star and supporting players like Lesley Manville, Courtney B. Vance, and even Travis Kelce (yes, him) on the roster, it’s bound to be a good time.
“Joker: Folies a Deux” (theaters, Oct. 4): This sequel to 2019’s acclaimed “Joker” brings back both director Todd Phillips and star Joaquin Phoenix as failed comedian Arthur Fleck, continuing his re-imagined origin story into the iconic “Batman” villain as it introduces him to the “love of his life” – soon-to-be fellow villain Harley Quinn (Lady Gaga) – while incarcerated in Arkham Asylum. The mad mischief-makers naturally embark upon what’s described as “a doomed romantic misadventure,” and frankly, we don’t know much more than that. But the trailers look amazing, and there’s no question of Phoenix’s brilliance in a role he’s already made his own. Even without those encouragements, though, there’s nothing that’s going to stop fans of queer diva Gaga from flocking to the theater to see her take on a character she seems already to have been destined to play – and you can bet we’ll be among them.
“Smile 2” (theaters, Oct. 18): For horror fans, Halloween brings this sequel to the popular 2022 “death curse” chiller from filmmaker Parker Finn, this time following a global pop sensation (Naomi Scott) as she starts out on a new world tour, only to begin experiencing increasingly terrifying and inexplicable events. No, the premise doesn’t sound terribly original (and just as it didn’t in the first installment), but if Finn keeps the same level of visual and storytelling skills as the last time around, it’s sure to be a delightfully terrifying thrill ride for those who dare.
“Fanatical: The Catfishing of Tegan and Sara” (Hulu, Oct. 18): Our list closes with one final documentary, which chronicles the labyrinthine tale of how the influential queer indie rock band of the title fell victim to an insidious hacking scheme from a lone stalker, leading to an identity-theft and catfishing campaign that continued to terrorize both the two musicians and their global legion of fans for more than a decade. Tegan and Sara join documentary filmmaker and investigator Erin Lee Carr to unfold this real-world mystery is into “a thriller, a caper, a whodunnit, and an intimate personal journey rolled into one.” Sounds good to us!
Movies
Timely doc celebrates America’s most beloved president as ‘Lover of Men’
Was Lincoln the most prominent LGBTQ hero in U.S. history?
It’s reasonable to assume, if you’re someone with an interest in “hidden” queer history, that you are already aware of the speculation that Abraham Lincoln might have been gay, or at least bisexual.
Those labels didn’t exist in his time, but the 16th POTUS left a trail of eyebrow-raising same-sex relationships, nonetheless, which many scholars consider as evidence that he was likely a member of what we now call the LGBTQ community.
The discussion around Lincoln’s sexuality has always been broadly drawn and ambiguously cloaked by 19th-century social norms (which [spoiler alert] were not quite as Puritanical as we might believe). Conclusions must be drawn by inference, so it’s no surprise that many historians tend to be wary of projecting modern-day interpretations on a past era. Such experts warn against relying on a between-the-lines reading of “official” history to provide factual certainty; by that standard, whatever the implications might suggest, there’s simply no way to prove anything, one way or another, and that’s the end of the story.
Others, however, are not so eager to close the discussion; that’s why the creators of “Lover of Men: The Untold History of Abraham Lincoln” – a new documentary conveniently timed for release mere months ahead of what might, when it comes to the subject of LGBTQ acceptance and equality, be our most crucial election so far – decided to step in and set the record (if you’ll pardon the expression) straight.
Directed by Shaun Peterson – who co-wrote alongside Joshua Koffman, Grace Leeson, and Robert Rosenheck – and unapologetically committed to piercing the opacity of a biography that contains too many “red flags” to ignore, it’s a documentary that eschews neutrality to make a case for claiming “Honest Abe” as the most prominent LGBTQ hero in the Great American Story. Unfolded by expert historians – both queer and otherwise – as an intimate portrait of a profoundly public figure, it charts Lincoln’s life through a lens trained on private experience, and goes beyond that to frame the much-beloved president’s growth and transformation into one of the world’s most significant leaders as a probable consequence of the “friendships” he experienced with the men who were his closest companions during different periods of his life.
Most of the attention is directed, unsurprisingly, at Joshua Speed, the handsome shopkeeper with whom, for four years of his young manhood, Lincoln shared a bed as a matter of “convenience” – despite offers of free and private lodgings elsewhere and a successful law practice that would have allowed him to buy a bed of his own and a house in which to put it. Casting Speed as “the love of Lincoln’s life,” it positions him (through plentiful historical documentation) as the man who helped the future president find his mojo; even so, it goes on to present evidence supporting less well-known male companions as catalysts to Lincoln’s maturation both as a commander-in-chief and a human being.
We won’t go into much detail here; the movie does a better job of illuminating the record than we ever could – and it does so not by relying solely on the speculation of possibly biased commentators, but by presenting “the receipts” as they appear in the indisputable (yet under-discussed) historical record. Gleaned from private correspondences and interviews with Lincoln’s primary contemporary biographer, these details reveal (among other things) the future president’s ambivalence toward women, the questionable context in which Lincoln bedded down with his various male companions, and the emotional bond he had with each of them that seemed to overshadow the one he shared with his eventual first lady, Mary Todd Lincoln – who, at least through the lens cast upon her here, was probably more in love with the idea of being married to a president than she was to the president she married.
No, there’s no “smoking gun” (again, pardon the expression) to be found by the erudite scholars who expound upon the persuasively numerous clues contained in Lincoln’s biography during the course of the film. There are, however, plenty of tell-tale powder burns. By exploring the nuance behind the many documented-but-veiled suggestions about the martyred president’s relationships, both male and female, this varied assortment of historians highlights the points that strike a familiar chord for queer people even if they’re likely to go unconsidered by anyone else. By the end, “Lover of Men” has expertly pleaded its case and rested it, relying on the weight and volume of its circumstantial evidence to satisfy any reasonable doubt.
The final verdict, of course, remains up to the individual viewer, and it unfortunately goes without saying that a good many will be watching with intent to discredit any hint of queerness within Lincoln’s biography, if they even watch it at all. Yet while it’s easy to reject an idea when you’ve already made up your mind that it’s false, it’s just as easy to accept one that you want to be true; and though the historians of Peterson’s smart and sassy movie carry an undeniable weight of credibility in their arguments, what remains indisputably accurate is that there is no way to know with certainty if our most-revered president was shaded with the “lavender” referenced by his poetic biographer Carl Sandburg to describe his nature in a later-prudently deleted passage of prose.
That’s perfectly all right, though. “Lover of Men” never tries to claim, unequivocally, that Lincoln belonged in the LGBTQ rainbow, only that the likely probability that he did is worthy of consideration. Further, it goes on to highlight the open-minded empathy that allowed him to pivot his viewpoint in ways that are typically unthinkable in politics; the evolution it charts for Lincoln from gifted country bumpkin to fully aware (dare we say “woke”?) humanitarian leader makes him an ideological model that feels crucial today. That having to suppress his true nature may have shaped the values and ideals that would ultimately help him to change the world makes the film’s arguments even more persuasive; and if its re-enactments of encounters between Lincoln and his alleged male lovers read as a little too modern to be true, they certainly convey a more plausible interpretation than can be found in any surface reading of the scrupulously polite language describing such events in the historic record.
Reinforced by filmed footage of the now-historically preserved sites (the smallness of an old shared cot speaks volumes) where Lincoln’s intimate life took place, these fancifully anachronistic translations of 19th-century queer courtship into something instantly recognizable to modern queer viewers succeed in making it difficult to cling to a denial that this particular American icon might have been queer – unless you are very deeply invested, for whatever reason, in doing so.
Sadly, that last point means a great many people will probably reject this passionately earnest piece of info-tainment sight unseen; but for those who don’t, it offers an intelligent and reasonable perspective on one of our most important national icons that can only increase his relevance in an age almost as divisive as the one over which he was destined to preside.
In other words, don’t miss it.