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The film observes Kato and other activists as they fervently try to get Uganda’s homophobic laws repealed while preventing a new anti-homosexuality bill from passing in parliament.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.”
The LGBTQ+ Victory Fund National Champagne Brunch was held at Salamander Washington DC on Sunday, April 19. Gov. Andy Beshear (D-Ky.) was presented with the Allyship Award.
(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)



















The umbrella LGBTQ sports organization Team D.C. held its annual Night of Champions Gala at the Georgetown Marriott on Saturday, April 18. Team D.C. presented scholarships to local student athletes and presented awards to Adam Peck, Manuel Montelongo (a.k.a. Mari Con Carne), Dr. Sara Varghai, Dan Martin and the Centaur Motorcycle Club. Sean Bartel was posthumously honored with the Most Valuable Person Award.
(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)















Television
‘Big Mistakes’ an uneven – but worthy – comedic showcase
In the years since “Schitt’s Creek” wrapped up its six season Emmy-winning run, nostalgia for it has grown deep – especially since the still painfully recent loss of its iconic leading lady, Catherine O’Hara, whose sudden passing prompted a social media wave of clips and tributes featuring her fan-favorite performance as the deliciously daft Moira Rose. Revisiting so many favorite scenes and funny moments from the show naturally reminded us of just how much we loved it, even needed it during the time it was on the air; it also reminded us of how much we miss it, and how much it feels now like something we need more than ever.
That, perhaps more than anything else, is why the arrival of “Big Mistakes” – the new Netflix series starring, co-created and co-written by Dan Levy – felt so welcome. We knew it wouldn’t be the Roses, but it seemed cut from the same cloth, and it had David Rose (or at least someone who seemed a lot like him) in the middle of a comically dysfunctional family dynamic, complete with a mother who gets involved in town politics and a catty sibling rivalry with his sister, and still nebbish-ly uncomfortable in his own gay shoes. Only this time, instead of running a charmingly pretentious boutique, he’s the pastor of the local church, and instead of a collection of kooky small town neighbors to contend with, there are gangsters.
As it turns out, it really does feel cut from the same cloth, but the design is distinctly different. Set in a fictional New Jersey suburb, it centers on Nicky (Levy) and his sister Morgan (Taylor Ortega) – he openly gay with an adoring boyfriend (Jacob Gutierrez), yet still obsessive about keeping it all invisible to his congregation, and she drudging aimlessly through life as an underpaid schoolteacher after failing to achieve her New York dreams of show biz success – who inadvertently become enmeshed in a shady underworld when a gesture for their dead grandmother’s funeral goes horribly awry.
They’re surrounded by a crew of equally compromised characters. There’s their mother Linda (Laurie Metcalf), whose campaign to become the town’s mayor only intensifies her tendency to micromanage her children’s lives; Yusuf (Boran Kuzum), the Turkish-American mini-mart operator who pulls them into the criminal conspiracy yet is himself a victim of it; Max (Jack Innanen), Morgan’s live-in boyfriend, who pushes her for a deeper commitment and is willing to go to couples’ therapy to prove it; Annette, his mother (Elizabeth Perkins), who lends her society standing toward helping Linda’s campaign against a misogynistic opponent (Darren Goldstein); and Ivan (Mark Ivanir), the seemingly ruthless crime boss who enslaves the siblings into his network but may really be just another slave himself. It’s a well-fleshed out assortment of characters that helps our own loyalties shift and adapt, generating at least a degree of empathy – if not always sympathy – that keeps everyone from coming off as a merely “black-and-white” caricature of expectations and typecasting.
To be sure, it’s an entertaining binge-watch, full of distinctive characters – all inhabiting familiar, even stereotypical roles in the narrative – who are each given a degree of validation, both in writing and performance, as the show unspools its narrative. At the same time, it makes for a fairly bleak overall view of humanity, in which it’s difficult to place our loyalties with anyone without also embracing a kind of “dog eat dog” morality in which nobody is truly innocent – but nobody is completely to blame for their sins, anyway.
In this way, it’s a show that lets us off the hook in the sense that it places the idea of ethical guilt within a framework of relative evils, as it permits us to forgive our own trespasses by accepting its “lovably” amoral characters, each of whom has their own reasons and justifications for what they do. We relate, but we can’t quite shake the notion that, if all these people hadn’t been so caught up in their own personal dramas, none of them would have ended up in the compromised morality that they’re in.
However, it’s not some bleak morality play that Levy and crew undertake; rather, it’s more an egalitarian fantasy in which even “bad” choices feel justified by inevitability. Everybody’s motivations make enough sense to us that it’s hard to judge any of the characters for making the choices – however unwise – that they do. In a system where everyone is forced to compromise themselves in order to achieve whatever dream of self-fulfillment they may have, how can anybody really blame themselves for doing what they have to do to survive?
Of course, all things considered, this is more a relatable comedy than it is a morality play. As a comedy of errors, it all works well enough on its own without imposing an ideology on it, no matter how much we may be tempted to do so. Indeed, what is ultimately more to the point is how well this pseudo-cynical exercise in the normalization of corruption – for that is what it really about, in the end – succeeds in letting us all off the hook for our compromises.
In the end, of course, maybe all that analysis is too deep a dive for a show that feels, in the end, like it’s meant to be mostly for fun. Indeed, despite its focus on being dragged into the shady side of life, the arc of its messaging seems to be less about a moralistic urge toward making the “right” choice than it is a candid recognition that all of us are compromised from the outset, often by choices we only force upon ourselves, and that’s a refreshing enough bit of honesty that we can easily get on board.
It helps that the performances are on point, especially the loony and wide-eyed fanaticism of Metcalf – surely the MVP of any project in which she is involved – and the directly focused moral malleability of Ortega; Levy, of course, is Levy – a now-familiar persona that can exist within any milieu without further justification than its own queer relatability – and, in this case, at least, that’s both the icing on the cake and substance that defines it. That’s enough to make it an essential view for fans, queer or otherwise, of his distinctive “brand,” even if he – or the show itself – doesn’t quite satisfy in the way that “Schitt’s Creek” was able to do.
Seriously, though, how could it?

