Gay romance movie

The flawed friendship between the nonbinary police officer and queer youth suffering under the wilderness-driven education methods of Evelyn Wade (Toni Collette) was earnest and endearing. But his life shifts from casual sex to something deeper and more probing when he encounters trans man William (Nina Rask), a first in terms of a queer intimate connection for Johan.

In a breakout performance Magnus Juhl Andersen plays Copenhagen-living, out gay man Johan who, as any out gay man does, engages in casual anonymous sex at the local sauna, where he also works as a receptionist. Those same groups were simultaneously championed on many of the world’s most powerful pop culture stages.

Equal parts fashion Olympics, acting Super Bowl, and gay “Hunger Games,” Drag Race remains one of the few TV institutions where LGBTQ artistry isn’t debated or defended because it’s the main event. The documentary arrived last winter amid renewed national attacks on LGBTQ rights and countered the vitriol of that moment with a deeply empathetic portrait of genderqueer poet Andrea Gibson.

That attention crystallizes in Peter McVries (David Jonsson), a gay character delivered with exceptional warmth and clarity.

The dazzling competition that emerged from that moment is a sparkling reminder that drag has always thrived under pressure. But the brilliant casting of Mae Whitman as rookie cop Alex Dempsey, whose wife Laura (Sarah Gordon) gets them tangled up in the sordid underbelly of a small town and its strict reformatory school, asserts the series as an especially smart example of LGBTQ world-building.

In a setting defined by cruelty, screenwriter JT Mollner understood that tenderness, especially between boys intended as enemies, can still seem radical on the big screen. The documentary “Come See in the Good Light” remembered poet Andrea Gibson and gave their wife, Megan Falley, a platform to reflect on the late artist’s life and the fleeting power of true love.

We live in a time restrained by hesitation but spurred on by the recent memory of limitless possibility.

From awards honorees defending trans people at the podium to musical acts designing their live performances as tributes to their gay and genderqueer fans, entertainers of all kinds came together to remind audiences that Hollywood is still mostly run by allies.

However well-intentioned, that political contrast made LGBTQ representation on screen feel more dire than celebratory.

—AF

“The Summer Hikaru Died”

Horror as a metaphor for queerness is a subject often relegated to subtext or academic discussions, which makes a show like “The Summer Hikaru Died,” which uses Lovecraftian horror conventions in service of a gay coming-of-age story, so radical and strange.

However, the plot thickens as she unexpectedly finds herself drawn to another girl, offering a delightful exploration of young queer love and the complexities of teenage romance. In a year with great animated TV shows, it’s no surprise that the queer and weird “Women Wearing Shoulder Pads” went slightly under the radar, but it’s a work that can delight those who can get on its specific wavelength.