I’ll Watch Anything Where the Black Girls Kiss

I’ll Watch Anything is an Autostraddle TV Team series in which we tell you what type of movies and TV shows we’ll watch, no matter what. This week, Carmen Phillips is here to explain why she’ll watch anything where the Black girls kiss.

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It’s not only about when the Black girls kiss.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, it is a little about that. There’s this meme I once saw of Raven Symoné talking on pink razr phone (remember the 00s?) that says “This is how queer people
recommend shows to each other: ‘There’s a Lesbian, couple on season 4!'” Famously, as a people, I do think we will put up with a lot just to watch two women characters.. well.. smash their faces together in a passionate, loving, manner. It’s not a common practice that I see happening in cis gay men’s communities, so it does feel unique to us in some respects. But I don’t think it’s about the kissing. Not really. I think it’s about the story that got us there.

I’ve found recently that it’s hard for me to write about representation. #RepresentationMatters can feel clunky and quaint, if not out of date, as a rubric. Some version of late aughts and 2010s nostalgia, like a Shepard Fairey Obama Hope poster or wearing a skinny tie and fedora and calling it “fashion”. We already saw first hand that having representation in name alone did not get us to the places we had hoped, most often leaving us parched and unsatisfied. That having a Black President without also doing the work to change the white supremacist ideologies that are threaded into the fabrics of the United States, in so many ways, unearthed a backlash that lead to Trump and our current rises in hate crimes and hate-filled, state-sanctioned legislations. These are the lessons that the 2010s left us. And I think it’s ok to learn from those lessons, to pivot and become smarter, more sleek, in how we move next to accomplish our goals.

At the same time, yes, we are currently directly in the middle of those aforementioned rises public-sanctioned hate. There’s also seismic shifts in television right now, with streaming companies changing they way they do business and the quickness with which they cancel new shows before they’ve found an audience, the eve of the potential writer’s strike, and pulling content from streaming platforms in a fashion that seems to be hitting queer and POC content in uniquely difficult and proportionally uneven ways compared to their white straight peers. All of which rain down together to make “representation” feel more rare, vulnerable, and treasured than probably any other time in the last 15 years.

More than anything, I have found myself making a small mental adjustment, a shift in focus from writing about “representation” to asking about “storytelling.” It moves a passive noun into an action verb. In truth, all of the stories that those of us who love stories on screen love so much, they’re not created in a vacuum. There are so many intricate and nuanced layers of systems at play between a writer’s draft, an executive C-suite at some network, standards and practices, focus groups, a director’s chair, a production team, an actor’s performance, and what eventually we get to see. And none of those systems are designed for Black women or queer people to win, which is not new information but often thrives on being hidden. Interrogating “storytelling” reminds us that everything we’re watching was someone’s active choice.

It’s not that I simply want more Black roles, not if those roles are going to be written and directed by people who have no understanding of a Black experience, or if a Black character is going to be an auxiliary best friend in some other white woman’s story and never live a life of their own apart from a white gaze. I don’t want to watch queer characters with no other queer or trans peers to live their life with, forced into isolation and loneliness. I want explorations of queerness that challenge norms, even the norms from within our own community. And one of those norms is clearly an evaluation of whiteness, cisness, and thinness as romantic ideals.

According Autostraddle’s research, out of 169 queer Black characters in romantic relationships, in the history of television, they’ve been in relationships with white partners 85 times. They’ve been in relationships with people of color who aren’t Black an additional 18 times; totaling 103 times when a Black queer character was in a relationship with a non-Black partner.

Comparatively, there have only been 46 times when a Black queer character was paired with a Black partner on television. Only six have had multiple Black partners.

So yeah, I want to see the Black girls kiss.

Having Black queer characters together doesn’t always mean that their stories are well drawn. Recently, a Prime Video Christmas rom-com, Something From Tiffany’s, cast Javicia Leslie and Jonica Gibbs as wives — both Javicia and Jonica have been recent Black queer leads in their respective television series Batwoman and Twenties, which meant I had been counting down the days for the film’s release pretty much from the news of their casting (and correctly guessed they would be in a relationship in the film, I might add). After months of anticipation, their roles ended up being so small that we had to have an editorial huddle on how to even cover it. We landed on the title “10 Cute Couple Things I Imagined Javicia Leslie and Jojo Gibbs Doing in ‘Something From Tiffany’s’.” Imagined. Because there was nothing else there.

In seven seasons of Queen Sugar, Rutina Wesley’s Nova Bordelon — one of the six Black queer characters to ever have multiple Black partners, on a show that was created, written, and produced by majority Black talent — saw her relationships with women poorly underdeveloped at every turn.

It began with Nova holding her girlfriend, Chantal, in bed, half naked and in a warm morning glow of their own making, telling her that she felt like freedom. That was the first message of the show, that Black women loving each other and ourselves was freedom. Instead, it eventually reached a point where the writers decided that Nova, who began Queen Sugar as a journalist and Black Lives Matter activist, should declare a white cop as the love of her life.

Batwoman in so many ways is a gold standard of Black lesbian romance on television. Season Two’s recast of Javicia Leslie as Ryan Wilder (replacing Ruby Rose’s original Kate Kane) made the series the first to have a Black lesbian lead superhero and the Season Three courtship with Meagan Tandy’s Sophie Moore marked the first time ever that the lead romantic relationship on a television drama centered on two Black lesbians. In room full of people, Sophie looked at Ryan with a smile tucked in that was only for her, Ryan’s flirtations damn near bordered on debonair, she was so smooth.

But it also takes nothing away from these feats to say that the cancellation of Batwoman last year meant that while the build up and flirtations between Ryan and Sophie were electric, not just in performance but in rarity, a verified lightning in the bottle, their actual relationship was ultimately rushed to meet the finish line, impairing character development, and now unable to be picked back up. In 51 total episodes of Batwoman, Ryan and Sophie co-star in 31 of them. They are officially in a relationship for just three. Five, if you want to count from their first kiss.

Black queer television shows with lesbian leads that come from a Black production team, even those that air on a Black network, like BET’s Twenties, often struggle to gain traction with straight Black audiences and queer white audiences alike. Twenties has yet to be picked up for a third season. A League of Their Own was a strong performer with audiences overall and a bonafide breakout hit in queer communities, with multiple, stunning, depictions of Black queer characters — Prime Video has decided to softly cancel it with a second, final and abbreviated season.

The first Black lesbian couple on television were on a CBS drama called Courthouse, which aired for just nine weeks in the fall of 1995. In it Jennifer Lewis and Cree Summer played reoccurring characters Judge Rosetta Reine (Lewis) and Danny Gates (Summer), a housekeeper. The show was ultimately pulled before the final two episodes could even air.

It doesn’t sound like much has changed.

Netflix’s Beef Is Very Stressful — It’s Also an Incredible Work of Art

Author’s Note: The following review of Netflix’s Beef contains spoilers.

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In A24’s new Netflix series Beef, happiness is a moving target.

Steven Yeun plays Danny Cho, and Ali Wong plays Amy Lau, two strangers who impulsively enter into a bout of road rage starting in the parking lot of a hardware store chain. They’re both unhappy. They’re both angry. Danny is a hustling construction worker living with his younger brother Paul (Young Mazino) and reckoning with the fallout of his parents, now living in Korea, losing their motel. Amy lives with her husband George (Joseph Lee) and their young daughter Junie (Remy Holt) and runs a successful fancy plant store that the CEO of the aforementioned hardware store chain — an evil rich lesbian played fantastically by Maria Bello — is interested in acquiring. If the deal goes through, Amy will be filthy rich. She already is quite wealthy, but there’s always more.

Danny and Amy become locked into their titular beef, a rivalry that escalates into wild proportions. But they also spend the ten episodes in feral pursuit of something forever out of reach. The deal closes, and Amy is still unhappy. Danny buys his parents’ their dream house, and everything goes swiftly to shit. There’s no winning on this show. It is one of the best explorations of obsession I’ve ever seen, especially because it’s such a strange and potent version of obsession between two strangers. Danny and Amy become all id, their anger like a naturally burning source of fuel for the rocket that is this ten-episode series. They think they hate each other because of the ways they’re different, but I think it’s much more complicated than a two-person microcosm of class warfare. I think they see the worst parts of themselves when they look at each other.

The road rage is just the beginning. It unlocks something in Danny and Amy, two people simmering with unreleased anger and constantly chasing after the phantom of happiness. In a crescendoing avalanche of lies, betrayal, emotional and physical affairs, denial, rage, revenge, manipulation, and violence, Danny and Amy enter into a chess game of horrors, often ignoring the problems and broken relationships right in front of them in favor of trying to destroy each other and, in the process, themselves. Everyone becomes dangerously enmeshed. Amy catfishes Paul using photos of her white girl employee, who George has an inappropriate if hard-to-define relationship with. But when Paul learns the truth of her identity, they enter into an affair anyway.

Beef grapples with a lot of the same themes of sex, power, wealth, perception, and deception as the popular series White Lotus but does so with a lot more nuance — especially in its explorations of race — and a lot more creative ambition. Every episode is more unhinged than the last, and yet every beat lands, the stakes ever-increasing but the characters and central themes never becoming muddled or incomprehensible. It’s twisty but it isn’t just a vehicle for shock value. It’s almost impossible to accurately guess what will happen next, and yet it isn’t incomprehensible. It’s strange, unsettling, sexy, all at once. Amy likes to masturbate with an unloaded gun. She accuses George of being vanilla, wants the kind of sex that matches the frenetic, frightening frequency she secretly vibrates with and hides from him and others. Pleasure/shame, repression/release, love/hate, silence/violence, comfort/discomfort — Beef doesn’t just juxtapose these opposing forces; it tackles them simultaneously. Amy and Danny’s senses of their own selves are a constantly shifting thing, both at odds with who they want to be and how they think others think they should be. Identities are fractured and fraught. Their discontent makes for a tightly wound, clenchy series.

If you haven’t watched the show yet, I know it may seem like I’m giving away a lot in terms of plot, but I promise I’m not. And even though there is a distinct and very active plot at play throughout the series, it’s really the finer details that make it such a stunning work of art. Every needledrop, especially the songs that close each episode, charms. The episode titles come from famous quotes, their full context in conversation with the events of the episode. Even the specific execution of the episode title cards, displayed over art I would describe as stressful and signaled by a similarly disturbing abrupt sound cue, adds texture. Beef’s creative ambitions are many, and the finale leans into surreality and experimentation in a way that almost feels like theater.

The entire cast is superb, and Beef gives so much humanity and depth to every single character so that none feel like a device or a caricature in this comedy of horrors. Almost every character is intensely selfish — perhaps with the exception of Paul. But every character is also desperately in search of something just out of reach. Paul wants independence and to feel understood and taken seriously. George lives in the shadow of his late father, a renowned artist of chairs. Even the characters with brief screentime, like Ashley Park’s Naomi, are instantly memorable. Truly Maria Bello is perfect in the role of ultra-wealthy Jordan, whose surprise fiancée after the eight-month jump in episode seven makes for a delightful reveal. And then a moment with her in the penultimate episode is one of the most genuinely shocking things I’ve seen on television in a while, and it’s earned.

But Yeun and Wong are the strongest forces here, transfixing from start to finish. Danny’s breakdown in a church makes for a gorgeously sad scene. Wong fires on all cylinders breathlessly throughout. All of the show’s suspense and intensity is held in this pair’s performances, which are very physical on top of being complexly emotional, with touches of humor, too.

Episode eight is a standout installment, co-written by the author of the excellent queer novel Pizza Girl, Jean Kyoung Frazier. In its first half, Amy’s scenes in the present are interrupted by flashbacks — quite literally, her past self walking into frame with her current self as a way of transition. These flashbacks move in reverse, starting in Amy’s twenties and rewinding all the way to her infancy. They reveal the origins of Amy’s feelings of inadequacy and unlovability, a very young Amy literalizing her feelings that something is wrong and wicked about her with a witch character ingested and reimagined from a book she reads. She sees the witch when she hides a candy bar under her bed, when she catches her father likely cheating on her mother after shoplifting from the mall, when she has anonymous kinky sex with an older stranger she met on Yahoo Chess. The witch is Amy’s shame come to life, and it’s a device that feels as funny as it does frightening, a special chemistry Beef often achieves.

The second half of the episode contains Danny flashbacks, which move chronologically from babyhood to about a decade before the present timeline when he made a truly despicable decision to alter the course of Paul’s life. Danny’s flashbacks recast the dynamic between the brothers, Beef often toying with our assumptions and perceptions.

Beef‘s total decimation of “happiness” doesn’t come off as grating cynicism but rather sharp realism, even as its unspooled in a story that borders on absurdist. Constantly along the way of its spiralling narrative, it asks fascinating questions. Who gets to be angry? What does it mean to be good, to be bad? Can anyone really, truly have it all? Or does that always come at someone else’s cost?

I feel like it’s all I want to talk about, because there’s just so much meat to it, and no I won’t apologize for that pun! I want to say more, but I also think you should go see for yourself. The series itself functions like those works of art featured in its title cards: gorgeous and stressful, chock full of aesthetic detail, symbolism, and meaning. While there’s thematic overlap with other series that contend with class and power, like the aforementioned White Lotus, I also feel confident saying there’s nothing on television quite like it. Beef is doing its own damn thing.

“The Owl House” Ends With a Gloriously Gay Sendoff

When The Owl House premiered on The Disney Channel back in January 2020, JK Rowling was still a good six months away from beginning her rapid descent into becoming the face of violent transphobia; Florida governor Ron Desantis hadn’t even floated the country’s first “don’t say gay” bill; and, frankly, most LGBTQ+ people were just relieved Donald Trump was out of the White House. We were taking a real breather for the first time in a long time.

That’s the real world Luz “the Human” Noceda left behind when she stepped through the portal into the Demon Realm. Over the course of three seasons, Luz got herself an enemies-to-lovers lesbian girlfriend, came out as bisexual, discovered that her pseudo-mom was queer and in love with a nonbinary witch, got herself a queer shape-shifting basilisk sister who fell for a nonbinary human, met her best friend’s gay dads, chatted with a genderqueer Titan, redeemed a he/they baddie, studied under her aro/ace adopted aunty, and beamed as her mom became the greatest ally of all-time.

The series ended this weekend, triumphantly and unapologetically queer, just like its creator, Dana Terrace. And it did so as LGBTQ+ youth and trans people of all ages are under cultural and legislative attack in the United States like never before. “Watching and Dreaming” would always have been a triumph — to close out a story with so many beloved characters, and such deep mythology, in a truncated final season mandated by spineless Disney execs is no small task — but doing so in a time of so much violence aimed at gay and trans kids feels like the firm planting of a beacon of hope. Over the past three years, The Owl House has soared, while the U.S. has plummeted even deeper into anti-LGBTQ hysteria.

The plot of the series finale is probably a little too dense for folks who haven’t watched the show. Like I said: This lore is enormous! But the emotional beats are really what makes “Watching and Dreaming” one of the best finales of one of the best shows ever made. When Luz arrives on The Boiling Isles in the pilot, she feels so alone and so misunderstood. Immediately she finds a home with Eda the Owl Lady, a practitioner of forbidden wild magic, and her monster son, King, who seems like kind of a dog and kind of a demon with grandiose visions of ruling the world. A cuddly little boss guy who actually happens to know exactly who he is.

Luz makes outcast friends at the magic school. She accidentally falls for her nemesis, who falls right back at her. It seems like your typical ragtag magical band of pals holding up The Chosen One — Luz’s best buddy is even named Willow — but actually The Owl House is about choosing yourself, a theme driven home hard in the final episode. Every character has a moving coming of age arc, most of them punctuated by some kind of trauma, and in the end they win not because they’re more powerful, or more clever, or because good always triumphs over evil. No, they win because they just refuse to give up. Beaten, broken, bloody, scarred, devastated, depressed, grief-stricken, surrounded by puritanical baddies and literal puppets. But they’re not alone anymore. They fight for each other.

Queerness isn’t some peripheral happenstance on The Owl House. It is a formative part of each gay and trans characters’ lives. It informs who they love and how they love, and also how they contextualize themselves in the larger world. It also gifts its audience with a vast palette of experiences to paint with. Queerness, like wild magic, goes against the tyrannical leanings of Emperor Belos because queerness, like wild magic, seeps into the cracks of rigid, binary thinking and busts “normal” apart with a song and a smile. Belos can’t control Eda because she doesn’t want to be normal. She’s the leader of the Bad Girl Coven and she wears her differences like a Titan-given cloak of many colors. She is proud to be a weirdo and she’s raising kids who are proud to be weirdos too.

Everyone gets a huge individual win in “Watching and Dreaming,” as Luz saves the day. And the epilogue is a slice-of-life low-fi hip-hop Hooty beat of unabashed celebration. I cried watching it. I’m crying right now just thinking about it. And before too long, I’m sure the whole thing will be seared onto my heart, forever, like a Flapjack tattoo.

“Tiny Beautiful Things” Neglects Its Queer Storyline

Over a century after Henrik Ibsen’s feminist classic A Doll’s House freed its protagonist from the constraints of womanhood, another white male playwright wrote a sequel. Lucas Hnath’s 2017 Tony-nominated A Doll’s House, Part 2 takes place fifteen years after the original and finds Nora’s former maid, husband, and daughter questioning her choice to leave them behind.

Hnath’s play does not specify the race of the characters, but in the Broadway production Nora was played by a white actress, Laurie Metcalf, and Nora’s daughter, Emmy, was played by a Black actress, Condola Rashad. Watching the play in 2017, this casting decision felt pointed. Hillary Clinton had lost the election and even white feminists were starting to question white feminism. But the authorial voice was still Hnath’s — and white male director Sam Gold’s. At a time when so many feminist texts were worthy of reexamination, this critique fell flat.

When the original Broadway cast was replaced, Nora was still played by a white actress but so was Emmy. Nora’s husband was instead played by a Black actor, Stephen McKinley Henderson replacing Chris Cooper. When the play opened in London, Nora was played by a Black actress, Noma Dumezweni. Lucas Hnath wanted to write a play about gender while ignoring race — but each of these casting decisions results in a completely different work. No matter how much Broadway and Hollywood want diversity without engagement, it’s impossible to explore gender without also exploring race.

I thought about this six-year old play as I began watching Hulu’s new adaptation of Cheryl Strayed’s Tiny Beautiful Things, the collection of her popular Dear Sugar advice column. The series follows Kathryn Hahn as Claire, a woman tasked with writing an advice column while her own life is in shambles. The series jumps between the present day, whichever column Claire is working on, and Claire’s past, a narrative that will be familiar if you’ve read or seen Strayed’s other popular autobiographical work, Wild.

Beyond the character’s name, television’s Tiny Beautiful Things takes other liberty’s with Strayed’s life. One of these changes is Claire’s husband, Danny, is Black, and their daughter, Rae, is biracial and queer. Since television is a collaborative medium, changes to expand a story to include other identities and experiences are welcome. The problem with this series is it wants inclusivity without acknowledging how that changes its central narrative.

The show is primarily interested in class, grief, and creative rebirth. It’s at its best in the flashback sequences that focus on young Claire as she deals with challenges beyond her years. Sarah Pidgeon as young Claire simmers with a consistent emotional intensity and Merritt Wever as her mom finds the perfect balance between a tender realism and Claire’s idealized memories. It’s clear in these moments what the show wants to be — and, often, it succeeds.

It’s less successful when tying the trauma of these memories to the present day. During couples therapy, Claire tells Danny that growing up poor had her on an unequal playing field. Danny responds, “I’m a Black man in America. I know people don’t come from an equal playing field.” This line feels merely obligatory, because it is quickly dismissed. Claire says she’s not talking about race, she’s talking about class, and since Danny grew up middle class — “Middle class is rich!” she insists — he simply can’t understand. By showing us Claire’s adolescent challenges and not Danny’s, the show seems to agree with her. That she says this to their Black therapist who she views antagonistically — and who the show has cross ethical boundaries — doesn’t help.

Television is allowed to have imperfect protagonists — in fact, it’s essential — but again and again the show seems to want us to view Claire as the underdog. Yes, she’s imperfect, yes, she fucks up, but, ultimately, we still root for her because the world is against her. Maybe this was true in Cheryl Strayed’s reality, but in the reality we’re shown on-screen that’s just not the case.

It’s not only Claire’s husband and daughter. Throughout the series, Claire is in righteous conflict with several people of color. She is put on leave at work because an Asian patient’s daughter questions her boundaries. She screams at her daughter’s Latina crush about being rich and spoiled. She feels dismissed by a Black friend of a friend, a Black employee at a writers workshop, and a Black doctor with bad bedside manner. And, most notably, a Black professor is the reason young Claire is unable to graduate from college while mourning her mother. She shouts at him for making them only read male authors — a moment meant to show her feminist spirit that falls flat due to race.

There is a version of this show where Claire’s victim complex is the point, but the only time her attitude is questioned in a way that’s at all meaningful is in her relationship to her white writer friend played by Michaela Watkins. When her daughter, Rae, cites white feminism, it’s only framed as a teenage overreaction.

The issue is not inherently with the casting. This series is created by Liz Tigelaar whose previous adaptation Little Fires Everywhere was exceptional, in part, because it expanded its narrative to go beyond whiteness or racial ambiguity. But while that show was precise in its casting and in its writing of characters of color, Tiny Beautiful Things is vague. It feels trapped between its source material and the desire to expand beyond its protagonist’s worldview.

The show finds a similar challenge in its approach to queerness. While Rae’s queerness is established early in the series, it’s not until the sixth episode where we get a real moment between Rae and her crush. It’s one of the few times Rae is given substantial screen time separate from her mother and queer actress Tanzyn Crawford proves she was worthy of more. Working with only minimal material, she shines, and her performance is a big reason the later episodes land better than the rest — even as they hint at the potential for a better show overall. I’d be more forgiving toward details like jokes about lesbians needing short nails and a casually transphobic Dear Sugar letter, if Rae was given more autonomy in the first half of the series.

I wouldn’t take the time to make these critiques if the show didn’t have so much potential. There are many good moments in its exploration of grief and the ripple effects of our lives. This is an exceptionally well-directed, well-acted, and well-edited show. It improves throughout its eight episodes and the finale is particularly strong. It’s just that its strengths make its weaknesses all the more frustrating.

Conversations about women’s roles in society have come a long way since Ibsen’s 1879 play. In fact, they’ve come a long way since Cheryl Strayed’s 2012 book. But if we’re going to continue to evolve in our narratives, we have to go beyond surface level inclusion. It’s better to exclude experiences from a narrative than to include them thoughtlessly. It’s better to be precise in casting, precise in writing, than to just check boxes.

Not every story will encompass every experience, but as our world gets more inclusive, our stories should too. The challenge for Hollywood, for Broadway, is to do that meaningfully. The reward will be better art. And that is a not-so-tiny, beautiful thing.

Let’s Check In on Riverdale’s Final Season, Set Inexplicably in the 1950s

Ahhhh, yes, Riverdale. The show I used to recap here at Autostraddle but fell off of — not because I’d grown tired of its increasingly absurd antics but rather because life simply got in the way, and falling behind on Riverdale and then attempting to catch up is a Herculean task. Many people have given up on Riverdale, and I get it. If you came for a teen melodrama initially touted as “like if the Archie comics were horny,” then perhaps you did not wish to stay for increasingly chaotic supernatural horror show featuring alternate timelines, witches, superpowers, ghosts, possessions, cannibalism, and resurrections. I, however, deeply admire Riverdale‘s persistent ability to outdo itself, to literally drop a bomb on its main characters and say: “You know what? Everything you thought you knew is over, time for a new show entirely.” It’s almost like an anthology series but also isn’t, has somehow managed to invent its own constantly mutating format that I can’t even think of a name for. Perhaps future series that attempt such feats will be referred to as Riverdalian.

In any case, Riverdale has now entered its seventh and final season. Before we delve into the specific ways it has managed to reinvent itself for this last chapter, here is a very incomplete but informative list of reminders of things that occurred in season six, just for fun:

• For a five-episode arc, the characters ended up in Rivervale, a pocket universe where several key details about relationships, circumstances, and characters were suddenly new.
  • For example: Everyone developed superpowers! Betty Cooper could suddenly, like a lot of white lesbians in specific parts of Los Angeles claim to do, see people’s auras. Archie had superhuman strength. Veronica could kiss people to death. Cheryl Blossom became a full-on witch with pyrokinetic abilities. Jughead could read minds.
• Reggie sold Veronica’s soul to the devil in exchange for the prosperity of their speakeasy casino Babylonium, but then Veronica reversed the deal and sold Reggie to the devil, and he was promptly dragged to hell.
• Cheryl Blossom was possessed by her ancestor Abigail, also a witch, and sought vengence on the descendants of the townspeople who murdered her.
• Rivervale eventually merged with Riverdale in a process that remains confusing to me but also eventually results in Jughead needing to become a “living battery” for the town of Rivervale by generating new stories on his typewriter in perpetuity so that the pocket universe no longer needs to pull from the main universe — or something.
• Tabitha Tate was determined to be the guardian angel of Riverdale.
• A giant, apocalyptic comet headed to Riverdale, and Cheryl attempted to use her phoenixy powers to melt it, which is what brings us to…

SEASON SEVEN. Following the cataclysmic comet, the characters of Riverdale wake up…in the 1950s. Not only have they time-traveled, but they have also gone backwards in age. Remember that seven-year time jump in season five that brought them all into their mid-twenties? WELL FORGET ABOUT IT. They’re juniors in high school again, and things look and feel a lot like season one — except for the crucial difference of being set in the 50s. The only person who remembers their lives before is Jughead, naturally, because Jughead is always the paradox in these Riverdale situations. There was a whole episode about it, “The Jughead Paradox,” the series’s 100th episode last year.

In yet a new timeline for Riverdale, Betty is dating Kevin Keller, a closeted crooner. Archie has a crush on the new girl Veronica, sent to live here by her famous Hollywood actor parents because she was tangentially involved in the car crash THAT KILLED JAMES DEAN and they want to keep her name out of the papers. But Archie’s got competition in Julian Blossom, also hot for Veronica. He is a new twin for Cheryl Blossom and is different than Jason Blossom, the character whose death began this series oh so long ago. Toni Topaz is a student activist organizing students of color at the newly integrated Riverdale High. Lots of familiar faces return, including Ethel Muggs, Dilton Doiley, and other names that sound like I’m making them up off the top of my head but are real characters on this real show that I love so dearly. It is unclear if anyone has superpowers.

However, some semblance of the supernatural indeed exists, given the time-travel of it all. There are two version of Tabitha, one who belongs to this timeline and one who is the town’s guardian angel, seemingly able to move between timelines and universes. At the end of the season seven premiere, she informs Jughead that the plan to melt the comet did not work, causing an extinction-level event. The only way she could save everyone was to stuff them in this different timeline, but she thinks they’ll eventually, maybe be able to merge back into the original universe and not just restore Riverdale but make it a better place than it was before. But in order to do so, she first needs to wipe Jughead’s memory so that he too does not remember where he came from and thinks he’s just a regular degular dude with a crown in the 1950s.

The season premiere weaves in actual historical events to mixed results, including the aforementioned James Dean detail of Veronica’s new backstory. But more seriously, the episode is set in 1955, shortly after the murder of Emmett Till. Toni returns to Riverdale from Mississippi after having attended the trial, hoping to publish her coverage of it in the student paper the Blue & Gold. (Side note: I remain confused on where Riverdale is set, but I thought it was…New York? Or is it just an everytown that could be plopped anywhere in like the northeast U.S.? It does also sometimes give off Midwest vibes.) Betty is on board to publish, but the school administration shuts her down. So do her parents, who run the local radio station but who fear they’ll lose their top sponsor — Blossom Maple Syrup — if they report on racism. Eventually, Betty and Toni team up to convince Cheryl to read the real Langston Hughes poem “Mississippi—1955” about Emmett Till’s murder.

On the one hand, I’m glad Riverdale isn’t shying away from certain political realities of 1955. I do believe if you’re choosing to set a story in a specific time, it should feel grounded in that time and not overtly romanticize or soften the edges of it — even in the scope of a series that employs fantasy, supernatural, and sci-fi elements. On the other hand, to attempt to address such a serious real piece of violently racist American history in the scope of a campy, absurdist show is, well, an odd move. I don’t feel like the seriousness of it is downplayed per se; it isn’t just a fleeting mention but threaded into an entire central storyline of the episode. But it is, to say the least, much more than Riverdale can chew. Last season’s episode “Angels in America”, which saw Tabitha traveling through time, similarly took on historical events and contexts pertaining to racism in America, and while it was uneven, it worked much better, directly acknowledging that a Black character’s time-travel journey through American history would not be the same as a white character’s. By the end of the season seven premiere, Jughead wonders if he even wants to return to the future; maybe here is better. But of course, it’s easy for him to say that — he’s white and straight. Riverdale does, at least, seem aware of this tension held by its new setting. The 1950s were sock-hopping fun for only a specific group of people.

I’m left wondering why Riverdale chose this particular story as its way of exploring race relations in 1955 since it is not (as far as I’ve ever been able to deduce) set anywhere near Mississippi or the American South. Was it all in service of incorporating the Langston Hughes poem? Is it just because the writers assumed most viewers would be familiar with Emmett Till and the sham trial that acquitted his murderers? I’m left with more questions than answers, which is par for the course with Riverdale, but it’s rather frustrating in this context, because ultimately it also just feels like the show placing Betty and other white characters on a pedestal for being Good White People. I don’t wish for Riverdale to ignore issues of race in its new time period, but it’s hard not to see this plotline as performative rather than meaningful issue-driven storytelling. No one’s necessarily acting out of character. I believe the Coopers and the Blossoms would be on the wrong side of history (and that Cheryl would, slowly, start to push back against her family). Toni’s role as a student activist advocating for students of color at the high school does indeed track with her previous characterization as someone who fought for the Southside Serpents to be treated equally when they joined Riverdale High. But while characters’ motivations are easy to track here, it still feels like we’ve veered into territory Riverdale has difficulty navigating in a cogent way.

Also, in both of the episodes of this season that have aired so far, it’s clear Riverdale has pushed Kevin Keller and Cheryl Blossom right on back into the closet. This is made the most explicit for Kevin, who is very distant with his girlfriend Betty and has eyes for another guy at school. Cheryl, meanwhile, seems to be overcompensating by leaning into puritanical thought and behavior, all the while longing to be able to freely dance with Toni at the sock hop the second episode hinges on. Again, I’m not totally sure what Riverdale is doing here. While it certainly does seem realistic for the time period that Kevin and Cheryl wouldn’t be fully out and proud at school, re-closeting them is frustrating from a viewing experience, because we’ve already done this with them, especially with Cheryl, who seems to not just be closeted to the world but also to herself, which is exactly how things played out the first time around in present day, too! Riverdale shifts the context by applying 1950s-specific homophobia to Cheryl’s arc, but wouldn’t it be much more interesting if there were an actual character-based shift? What if Cheryl did know she’s gay and was secretly dating in the 1950s — a dangerous thing to do but still something that did indeed occur. What if Cheryl and Kevin went to an underground gay bar together?! Retelling their coming out stories but strapping them with mid-century homophobia just isn’t all that compelling to watch — at least not yet. I suppose I’d be more upset if they were straight in this new timeline, but this almost feels just as boring as that!

We’re only two episodes in, so I’m hoping that while Riverdale blessedly continues to go off the rails, it at least rights its course in terms of some of these early missteps that take me out of the story too much. A blend of camp and grounded storytelling is welcome, but I think the balance is off at the moment. Making the characters return to high school indeed feels like a fitting “the end is the beginning” premise. Plopping them in the 1950s seems like primarily an aesthetic choice rather than a narrative or thematic one, and that’s fine, especially on a show like this that makes a lot of aesthetic choices and leans into camp. The costumes are indeed magnificent. Time travel is complicated and should thusly be treated as complicated. I’ve always thought that when it comes to time-traveling shows which can sometimes oversimplify history or ignore it completely. But Riverdale isn’t just juggling a lot with this new premise; it’s juggling while trying to do backflips at the same time, and it’s only landing some of them.

I won’t be recapping this final season, but I’ll try to drop in any time there’s a particular queer episode and will also weigh in for the series finale.

Boobs on Your Tube: Carina and Maya Are Taking It Slow (but Steady) on “Station 19”

It’s April and don’t you worry: Riese has released her highly researched monthly gay streaming guide into the wild! This week, Natalie also crowned the 2023 Autostraddle: March Madness Trope-y Wives champion! Recaps? We got ’em! This week. Drew recapped Drag Race, Kayla recapped Yellowjackets, and Natalie recapped Stef and Lena’s return to Good Trouble. We’ve also got a special edition of To L and Back to bid adieu to Gen Q. (Gen Q has been yanked from Showtime’s streaming services???) Heather made a list of excellent LGBTQ TV parents. Carmen wrote beautifully about Mo’Nique coming out in her new Netflix special. Drew interviewed Mae Martin about their new comedy special and she also told us why she’ll watch anything queer made before 2000.

Notes from the TV Team:

+ It’s rare that I watch Not Dead Yet but I happened to keep it on after this week’s Abbott Elementary and I was rewarded with Paula Pell guest-starring as a bisexual soap opera star!! Just in case that sounds of interest to you. — Carmen

+ What a run it’s been for chefbian Britt Rescigno on Food Network’s Tournament of Champions! The #8 seed — the winner of a play-in tournament on Guy’s Grocery Games — has advanced to the semifinals, following wins over the reigning TOC champion, the SuperChef and now, an Iron Chef! Chef Britt took on Iron Chef Jose Garces in a battle that required them to make a smooth and crunchy dish using Iberico Pork Secreto, crab apples and a tadka pan. A technical mistake in cutting the pork by Chef Garces may have ultimately cost him the match. The Cinderella of TOC dances on!

But our other Elite 8 Chefbian Karen Akunowicz wasn’t as fortunate, falling in the round to 2021 TOC Champion Maneet Chauhan. The randomizer forced the chefs to make a raw and cooked dish using chicken livers, hearts of palm, tostapane, and camel milk. Both chefs fried their chicken livers but Chef Karen’s sauce dampened her livers’ crunchy exterior which seemed to disappoint the judges. — Natalie

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Station 19 613: “It’s All Gonna Break”

Written by Carmen

Carina and Maya wake up together in Carina’s hotel room after spending last night in bed. Ok so they both have their clothes on and slept facing each other from opposite sides, so maybe not exactly what you think (yet), but I found something romantic in the two wives sharing space. Carina agrees with me, telling Maya: “It’s nice to feel safe with you” before jetting out the door.

Before Carina can leave, Maya asks if maybe they can.. share space… again tonight, but Carina’s not quite sure. She’d prefer if they check in first after they see how the day goes. Which isn’t an unreasonable request! Though it’s hard not to have a little heartache over Maya’s small and understandable disappointment.

So let’s check in on their day, shall we? Carina and Bailey, along with Ben Warren for a lil backup, tour a Pregnancy Crisis Center that has stolen the name of Bailey’s clinic and is using it to trick patients into coming in to meet with anti-abortion activists basically cosplaying as doctors (if you want to read more about Pregnancy Crisis Centers I really recommend it, I appreciated last night’s episode taking the topic head on, even if I found some of the dialogue clunky). Watching Ben and Bailey together helps Carina realize how much she misses Maya and wants her back. She ends her day running to the forestation to be with her… but first!

On Maya’s day, she is out on an emergency call with Station 19 in response to a house that’s essentially also a sinkhole (just follow me here). And I bet you can see where we are going here, but this sinkhole-like situation also helps Maya get some clarity about Carina. Ok great! Now back to the end-of-the-day forestation.

Maya is cleaning the truck when Carina comes rushing in (we did not talk enough about how sensation Stefania Spampinato looked last night, by the way). And I thought that Carina was going to do a big Shondaland romantic gesture, a swooping kiss while all the firefighters cheered and a swell of music. But what happens next, fittingly, felt so much more secure.

Maya tells Carina that she gets it now. She wants to be back with Carina, of course she does, but you see — when they first moved in together, it’s hard to remember from where we are now but it was the middle of the pandemic and it came after they’d had quite a few original bumps in the road. Then there was everything with Maya’s dad, her demotion at work, and all of that contributed to a place where they had a weak foundation to build from. And instead of strengthening that foundation, Maya tried to build a whole metaphorical house on it (get it?), which made everything worse. But she’d like to try again. She’d like to build a stronger foundation this time, for them both.

Carina tells Maya that she wants to be back together with her, she does. She can feel their magnetic pull whenever they are together, and it would be so easy to just give in. But she can’t. She needs to take it slow this time. She needs Maya to pursue her.

And so Maya, full of swag and hopefulness, breaks into a smile that could light a thousand suns. If Carina wants to take it slow, how about they start with Maya Bishop taking her wife out on a date.

Everyone’s Favorite Lesbian Moms Return on This Week’s “Good Trouble”

So, if you only check into Good Trouble when the Mamas visit, here’s a quick recap of where we are: last season, a new face joined the Coterie: Joaquin, an investigative journalist who moved into his sister’s former residence to track her down, after not having seen her for eight years. He grew close with Mariana and she used her tech savvy to help him. They eventually find his sister, Jenna, at a cult/commune/farm outside town and struggle to help Jenna escape from the leader’s tight grasp. Channeling some Fosters era Callie, Mariana snags an invite to the farm to try and get to Jenna. When they cross paths, Mariana and Jenna make a plan to escape, with Joaquin and Evan arriving just in time to shepherd them away. But as they’re fleeing the cult farm, a shot rings out: striking Evan, Mariana’s former boss and boyfriend, leaving him comatose and in danger of full paralysis. While he’s incapacitated, Mariana’s been left in charge of Evan’s medical decisions and his company.

Her first big decision at Speckulate is to fire underperforming executives, in lieu of firing high achieving low-level employees. But the medical decisions aren’t nearly as easy. The doctor tells her that Evan needs a risky surgery that could kill him to avoid paralysis and the decision is hers. Recognizing that she can’t make this decision alone, she calls in reinforcements: a girl needs her mamas.

Am I still hard-pressed to imagine a world where Stef and Lena — the Coach and Tammy Taylor of gay TV — wouldn’t have made a beeline for the Coterie the moment they heard about the shooting? Absolutely, yes. And am I hard-pressed to imagine Stef Adams Foster, in particular, not immediately stepping back into cop!mom mode to investigate the men who terrorized her daughter? Also, yes. But this is Good Trouble not The Fosters so we’ll just have to make due with the infrequent Adams Foster reunions.

When the Mamas arrive, they react exactly as you’d expect loving parents in this situation to react: they’re angry at everyone but their kid. They’re mad at Joaquin for roping their daughter into this mess. They’re mad at Evan for putting Mariana in the position, both personally and professionally, to make decisions in his stead. They can’t be mad at Mariana right now — they love her and she’s clearly hurting — but everyone else is fair game. Mariana, though, continues to heap the blame upon herself and so she’s not interested in hearing them deflect responsibility for this onto anyone else but her. She begs her moms to just focus on helping her make a decision about Evan’s treatment.

Stef recommends seeking out more than one doctor’s opinion about Evan’s treatment but that doesn’t make the decision any clearer. One doctor recommends they operate now to remove bullet fragments that could shift and cause paralysis. Another doctor suggests that the surgery itself might be the greater threat to Evan’s ability to wallk while a third doctor worries if Evan’s current condition is stable enough for surgery. More confused now than ever, Mariana turns to her moms for an answer. Stef urges her to take a minute to process all the information before coming to a decision.

“Trust your moms,” Ghost Evan advises when Mariana asks him what to do. “They’ll know what to do.”

But Stef and Lena actually disagree about what to do. Lena doesn’t think Evan should have the surgery, Stef thinks he should…and both their choices are informed by their past experience. Stef puts herself in Evan’s shoes — having once been the victim of a shooting herself — and insists that she would have wanted the chance to have the best quality of life possible. But Lena can only remember being on the other side of that shooting…waiting for word on the person she loved…and all she wanted then — and all she wants for Evan now — is more time. Lena would’ve rather had Stef alive, even if she couldn’t walk, than to lose her entirely. Plus, Lena adds, what if Evan dies during surgery, Mariana would never forgive herself. But Lena also recognizes that if Evan ends up paralyzed, Mariana would blame herself for that too.

Stef can barely contain her anger at Evan for foisting this responsibility on Mariana but Lena suspects that he did it because he has a lot of faith in Mariana. Now, Lena suggests, the impetus has to be on Mariana having faith in herself…so they set out to restore that faith. Lena leads Mariana through a meditation exercise that allows her to quiet the mind and find the answers that already exist in her body. She encourages Mariana to feel, not think. Stef watches the whole thing, skeptically, but the exercise does help: Mariana opts to go ahead with the surgery. She begs Evan not to die before they wheel him into surgery.

Thankfully, the surgery goes well. But once the doctor issues his prognosis for Evan’s recovery, the Mamas turn their attention to their daughter and the guilt she’s carrying. Stef encourages Mariana to just let it go but she insists she can’t just decide to let it go. Lena and Stef press their daughter on why she feels the need to carry all this guilt and Mariana admits that she’d feel guilty if she didn’t feel guilty. But her mamas remind her that she’s experienced a terrible trauma…and the guilt is keeping her from dealing with her own trauma. They make her promise to see a therapist to help her process all she’s gone through.

The next day, she gets a call from the hospital that Evan’s woken up from his coma and rushes to the hospital. She finds him sleeping and slides her hand over his. Her touch wakes him up and he looks up to be greeted by her smiling face. Unfortunately, though, Evan wakes up with amnesia; he doesn’t recognize her at all.

Mariana might want to get that therapist on speed-dial.

Meanwhile, Alice continues to struggle in her new job in the writers’ room of “America’s Funniest Ferrets & Friends.” She can’t get her colleagues — three cantankerous old white men — to focus long enough to write a good joke. With a deadline rapidly approaching, the stress is starting mount and Alice lets it show. She yells at Larry, Curly, and Moe to focus on their work but they can’t be bothered…at least not until the writers’ room is fully stocked with great snacks. Despite the looming deadline, the men insist on a mid-morning grocery run to replenish the snack supply. I know Alice is agitated by this but, truthfully, this is some highly relatable content for me personally.

Two hours and a comedy of errors later, the trio and Alice emerge from the grocery store with snacks in hand. Now, Alice insists, they can finally get back to work but the stooges remind her that it’s now lunch time. They rationalize that by the time they’re seated, order their food and are served, the day will pretty much be over so they opt to just start fresh the next day. Exasperated, Alice yells at the stooges in the parking lot, and insists if they don’t care, neither does she.

The next day she arrives at work and the stooges are already hard at work. She apologizes for how she reacted the day before but they sure her that everything’s fine. Moe notes that writing has its ebbs and flows and sometimes when you’re stuck, you just need to walk away from it for a while. I’m not sure what she’s learning about comedy from “America’s Funniest Ferrets & Friends” but that’s a valuable life lesson…and Alice promises Sumi that she’ll adhere to in the future.

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Good Trouble Coterie Sundries

+ Isabella hasn’t just left her baby behind with Gael while she gets the help she needs, she’s completely relinquished her parental rights? Admittedly, I wasn’t expecting that. Left with the decision about Baby Lyric’s future, Gael asks his sister, Jazmin, and her husband to share in the parenting responsibilities. They’ll co-parent the baby, just as they’d planned and the siblings are understandably elated…and so am I…more Hailie Sahar on my screen is never a bad thing. Gael suggests spending evening at Jazmin and Spencer’s place until Lyric adjusts to the new arrangement.

But it’s not just the baby who needs help adjusting to the arrangement, Gael does too. He’s reluctant to spend anytime away from Lyric and when he oversleeps, he lashes out at Jazmin for not rescheduling the baby’s doctor’s appointment so he could be there. But, thankfully, the Mamas are there to share a lesson that they learned while co-parenting Brandon with Mike: this can’t be all about him, it has to be about what’s best for the baby. He apologizes to Jazmin for snapping at her and assures her that he wants to make this work. She gives him the night off from “Daddy Duty”…which affords him just enough time to find out that the job he was counting on to support his daughter is now gone.

(“How do these kids figure anything out when we’re not here?” Stef jokes, as Gael leave. “Yes, how?!” I yell back to her.)

+ I know the Mamas can’t be everything to everyone but I was sad that we didn’t get to see an interaction between Lena and Malika in this episode. Now that Malika’s followed Lena into public service, I would’ve enjoyed hearing them talk about their experiences.

+ Still recovering in her brother’s loft, Jenna is showing all the signs of Stockholm syndrome. She makes excuses for Silas’ behavior and insists that he’s a brilliant and insightful healer who helped her overcome her pain. She admits she misses the farm but Joaquin reminds her that Silas also locked her up in a room. When the detective calls Joaquin and Jenna into the police station for a second round of questioning, Jenna’s reluctant to implicate Silas in any way. The police are able to arrest Silas’ henchman, Adam, but insist that there’s nothing that they can charge Silas with. Frustrated, Joaquin confronts Silas in the police station lobby and threatens to kill him if he comes near Jenna again. Silas warns Joaquin to stay away from his farm and his girls and invites Jenna to “come home” whenever she’s ready.

Irate at Jenna’s changing narrative, Joaquin lashes out at her when they return to his loft. She cowers and cries as he suggests that she call Silas to pick her up and take her back to the farm. He realizes his misstep, draws close to his sister, and pledges to get her the help she needs.

“You’re my sister, I love you, you’re all that I have. Please, don’t go back to that farm,” Joaquin pleads.

+ This show took its name from that emphatic charge from the late John Lewis, the Civil Rights Icon and longtime Georgia Congressman, to “get in good trouble, necessary trouble, [to] help redeem the soul of America.” I’ve lamented, in my recaps, the writers’ decision to break away from that original premise and focus on drama for drama’s sake (this is my most charitable read of what’s happening on-screen).

But yesterday, Justin Pearson and Justin Jones were expelled from the Tenneessee State House for the sin of exercising their First Amendment Rights while black and, as this episode aired, social media was awash with folks praising the two for getting in good trouble. As I watched tweets about this show intermingle with tweets about what happened in Tennessee — a jarring juxtaposition, to be sure — the show had never seemed smaller…and never felt more far away from its origins. I hope it prompts the writers to reconsider their current course.

Check out our regular Good Trouble recaps now as a part of our weekly Boobs on Your Tube column.

“Yellowjackets” Episode 203 Recap: Fear Alchemized Into Desire

This is the Yellowjackets 203 recap, where I will painstakingly psychoanalyze and interpret “Digestif” so yes there will naturally be spoilers aplenty! If you haven’t had a chance to watch the episode yet, do so and then return here to chat with us in the comments, where I’m very active! I try to reply to each and every one of your brilliant theories, jokes, etc.! This episode was directed by Jeffrey W. Byrd and written by Sarah L. Thompson and Ameni Rozsa. Catch up on past recaps.

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The first image we see in “Digestif” is of Jackie’s hand — or what’s left of it. Brittle bone, fleshless, dripping blood. Coach Ben recalls what he witnessed the night before; everyone aside from him tearing into a corpse’s flesh. He recalls not in clear imagery but with slight static, the same kind of glitchy VCR-ish effect that the show’s main title sequence plays in. Suddenly, it’s as if he’s changing the channel in his mind, images of cannibalism intercut with something else: a memory.

For the first time, we get a flashback to before the crash squarely from Ben’s perspective. The VCR haze crystalizes into clearer view. Ben’s in his boyfriend Paul’s apartment. Paul likes to cook and is high-strung (“he really is me,” I said, out loud). He’s feeding clam chowder to Ben, who compliments the cumin even though there is no cumin in it. This is serious, Ben! It’s the chowderfest! Ben offers something to help Paul relax, and surprise, it’s kissing! These are the kinds of low stakes conflicts Ben was dealing with before the crash, before he was surrounded by cannibalistic teenage girls who he’s somehow both responsible for but also just trying to survive alongside. The channel changes in Ben’s mind again, and he’s back to that reality.

Later, Ben enters the cabin and hallucinates one of the JV girls asking if he’s hungry and then crawling across the floor with a foaming mouth saying “I still am.” He snaps back out of this walking nightmare, but reality doesn’t provide an escape. He wants to mentally return to before the crash, so he does, losing himself in a flashback again. Shortly before he left for nationals and his life changed forever, Paul asked Ben to move in with him, something he opened up about to Nat last season. Flashback Ben uses the soccer team as an excuse, saying he has a lot going on with the season. “You always say those girls are vicious little monsters,” Paul says, not knowing how literal that premonition will become. “Moving in with you means everything in my life changes,” Ben replies. Before the crash, Ben was contending with a different kind of survival. He was navigating life as a closeted gay man, living two lives really. He couldn’t envision an alternative, and Paul broke up with him because of it. Suddenly, these memories feel less like an escape and more like deeply sowed regret. Ben tortures himself for not choosing a different path, which not only would have allowed him to live more freely but also might have never put him in the position he is now, depressed and adrift. At one point when Travis tries to check in with him, he’s silent and motionless, dissociative in this state of remembering.

But then, he does turn the memory into an escape hatch. He rewrites the ending, contorting the next chapter of the flashback so that he chooses the different path, tells Paul he’s moving in with him and skips nationals. As he and Paul embrace, the television behind them delivers a staticky newscast of the plane crash. Only, in this version of the story, Ben isn’t on the plane. He’s here, with Paul, his life changing in a different way entirely.

Reality bends often on this show, but this is one of the first instances we’ve seen of someone willfully distorting their own perception. Ben has essentially created a dissociative mindspace to burrow into in the wake of the Jackie feast, which left him in a state of horror-induced shock. Ben really is an outsider in the wilderness. And it isn’t because he’s queer; Taissa and Van share that with him, and he also was able to open up to Nat about some of his personal life last season. He’s on the outside simply because he’s an adult. The girls, for better or worse, have each other to lean on, which we’ve seen can sometimes lead to their hive mentality and also in-fighting. But Ben exists on the outside of this, not quite old enough to play a real paternal figure but also distinct from them in the sense of the life he lived before. They were still kids living in their parents’ homes. He had his own life, one bifurcated by his closetedness and therefore even more complex than what the girls’ before lives looked like. (It tracks that Nat was the person he connected with last season more so than Travis, because Nat also lived the most independently of all of them as a result of her parents’ general lack of parenting.) The only way he has to connect deeply with another person is to do so in his mind, in this macabre fantasy he has crafted for himself where he can preserve Paul. The “switching channels” effect is so effective, not just because it mimics the show’s opening, but because it so literally represents this conscious decision he’s making to flip a switch between reality and fantasy.

Taissa’s reality, meanwhile, continues to be divided in a way that’s seemingly against her will. When Teen Tai sees Jackie’s body in the morning, she experiences the opposite of a “digestif.” She freaks out, shouting that something ate Jackie. “Taissa,” Van says. “We ate her.” Tai has no memory of this, immediately vomits, and concludes she must be sleepwalking. But this perplexes Van, because Taissa had been looking at her, had been talking to her. Even though Van followed sleepwalking Taissa last episode, she hasn’t yet had this experience of talking to whatever she becomes in this state. As viewers, we know that sleepwalking Adult Taissa is capable of a lot, including conversing — on the phone even! — but it’s news to Van. And then Van delivers very disturbing news to a very confused Taissa: “Tai, you ate her face.”

My first thought, unfortunately, was: Did she eat her eyes? I don’t see any on the corpse, and I wonder if the eyeless man would encourage the consumption of eyeballs — sorry to place that image in your brain!

At the hospital, Simone is alive but in critical condition. “Is this what you wanted?” Simone asks with a bandaged head in a nightmare Taissa has falling asleep against the wall of the hospital. She snaps awake, but every time Taissa “wakes up,” I wonder what version of her we’re getting. The nurse remarks that the symbol she drew on Simone’s hand is interesting, and we see that it’s THE symbol, whose real meaning we don’t really know. Taissa panics and tells the nurse it’s for luck and then wipes it away.

There’s significant tension between Teen Taissa’s claims not to believe in anything regarding the symbol, Lottie’s premonitions, and some of the stranger occurrences in the woods with regard to her behaviors in her sleepwalking state. Teen Taissa rejects the symbol, but sleepwalking Taissa — as both a teen and adult — utilizes it zealously. Van decides to stay awake so she can interact with sleepwalking Taissa. “If I let you loose, can I come with you?” she asks when Taissa shoots awake. “Yes, come,” Taissa says, Jasmin Savoy Brown effecting her voice just enough so that something seems off but doesn’t feel as on-the-nose as Doing A Creepy Voice. Van rushes to get her shoes and jacket on and follows Taissa out, trying to get as much information out of her as possible. Sleepwalking Taissa tells her the one with no eyes chose her, and she follows him but only when she lets her. Van asks who she is, and Taissa responds “Taissa.”

“Then who are you?” asks Van.

But we don’t get an answer. “Taissa” instead stops in front of a tree on which the symbol has been carved, and when Van tries to demand more answers, she wakes up. In her woken state, Taissa can’t help. She’s just as confused as Van. But when Van asks who “the one with no eyes” is, Taissa briefly flashes back to the memory of seeing him in the mirror when visiting her dying grandmother and chooses not to say anything. She either is intentionally withholding something here or isn’t consciously totally aware of this memory and what it means. Taissa is the resident skeptic, and yet some of the strangest and hardest to explain things are happening to her.

In the hospital, Adult Taissa pops a pill in the bathroom, likely in an attempt to continue staying awake. But when she turns away from the mirror, her reflection stays facing her, scowling. This time, Taissa notices. She turns to her reflection and startles when its movements don’t match hers. The reflection mouths something that looks like go to her (Note: These recaps are written using screeners, which frustratingly do not include closed captions, so if the closed captions on the finalized version confirm my interpretation of what’s being mouthed, feel free to let me know in the comments!) multiple times, and the silent horror works so well. Again, no need for a creepy demon voice or anything; silent is actually scarier, much like Teen Taissa’s calm, hushed delivery while sleepwalking is unsettling. The reflection places her hands over her face in a pattern mimicking Van’s scars. (At this point, I have written in my notes: DOES THIS MEAN WE WILL MEET LAUREN AMBROSE/ADULT VAN SOON? I HOPE SO.)

So, the symbol. Let’s talk about it, because it shows up a lot in this episode. Not only do we not know the meaning of the show’s ubiquitous symbol, but we don’t even know if it is indeed a symbol for protection or one that portends doom. Teen Lottie insists it’s the former in this episode, deepening the divide between factions in the wilderness. In an attempt to cheer up Shauna post-Jackie feast, Lottie says they should have a baby shower. Well, specifically says they should do something to “welcome him.” The other girls latch onto the idea of a baby shower, because it gives them something to focus on. Anything resembling not only their lives before the crash but a semblance of ritual or order appeals to the group. A baby shower provides exactly that. Akilah reveals to Taissa that she has a little bit of experience with babies, because her older sister has one. They construct a makeshift crib. Mari makes a rather murderous looking mobile. Van makes a “changing teepee.” And Lottie presents Shauna with a baby blanket embroidered with the symbol. Nat is immediately upset about it. Akilah rushes to defend Lottie by saying she undeniably “knows things,” and Taissa retorts that she isn’t a god. “No one is saying she is,” Van replies.

Then Shauna’s nose starts bleeding. When her blood hits the symbol, a repeated thumping sound echoes throughout the cabin. When they go outside, they see the lifeless corpses of a bunch of birds who crash landed into the cabin’s exterior. It’s eerie to say the least. The fact that it immediately follows blood hitting this symbol-endowed blanket suggests that the symbol is indeed a portent. And it’s not the first time a blood sacrifice has been required by the wilderness, like last season when Lottie said “it wants blood” in French.

Someone suggests that iron-rich soil might have thrown off the birds’ navigation abilities, and I did go down a rather circuitous rabbit hole about bird migration and magnetic fields and was unable to conclusively determine if such an explanation is scientifically sound but also cannot really imagine a teenager in the 90s knowing so much about ornithology, but I shall let the discrepancy slide for now. Lottie suggests that they collect the birds as blessings, which Van dutifully does, the chasm between her and Taissa widening.

Is Lottie dangerous? It’s a question I’m currently stumped about when it comes to both her Teen and Adult iterations. The devotion of her followers in the present timeline is troublesome in its cult appearances. The devotion of certain girls in the wilderness seems more understandable, potentially less nefarious, something for them to cling to in a time of desperation and despair. Adult Lottie’s followers seem to be a lot of bark, little bite. As Adult Nat wanders the grounds with a smoothie in hand, she happens across Lisa, stroking a chicken, who tells her even Charlotte — as her followers call her — is allowed her secrets, for her own protection. Lisa axes the chicken’s head off in a moment she clearly imagined as threatening, but Nat sucks all the power out of it with her warning: “You should never swing an axe that close to your hand.”

Later, Lottie asks Nat to participate in a group therapy session, bestowing Lisa with a blade and saying that if she feels the need to hurt her back she may. Lisa, instead, drops the knife and pulls Nat into a hug, saying she understands. I can’t discern Lottie’s exact intentions here: Does a part of her believe Lisa could harm Nat? Does she know Lisa will not? And even if it’s the latter, is this its own form of manipulation, a way to garner trust with Nat?

Perhaps the biggest clue regarding Lottie’s intentions comes earlier in the episode when she’s explaining the commune’s bee colonies to Nat. “When a new queen hatches, the first thing she does is sting all of the other unborn queens to death,” Lottie says. “I can see why you like them,” Nat replies, insinuating that this is the kind of behavior Lottie exhibited back in the wilderness. Adult Lottie dismisses this though, says that without the Queen, the bees would starve, all of them would. What sacrifices did Lottie deem necessary in the wilderness for survival? So far, we’ve mostly just seen her doing rituals; other than stabbing the bear, usually she isn’t the enactor of violence but rather in proximity to it. It’s an interesting contrast to Shauna, which I’ll get into at the end of the recap.

At episode’s end, Lottie finds all her bees dead, their honey turned to blood. But it isn’t real. It’s a hallucination — or a vision. She hears one of her followers say in French: Il veut du sang, translating to “it wants blood.” But this is imagined as well. Something in that moment of her finding the bees and weeping over their demise does soften the edges of Adult Lottie. I think, for now, it feels overly simple to call her commune wholly bad or good. There is a sense that she’s taking advantage of these followers and deifying herself, but it’s difficult to see her as some delusional religious zealot, too. As with a lot of this show, there’s ambivalence sewn into the way she’s portrayed. But it’s also easy to be skeptical of her, because Nat is, and she acts as our audience surrogate coming into this place where secrets clearly lurk.

Teen Nat is just as skeptical of Teen Lottie as their adult counterparts are. Nat volunteers to take what’s left of Jackie — which isn’t much — to the airplane so that she can be buried with the others when the ground thaws. When Lottie offers her the protection blood tea, Nat denies it. She denies any assistance from Travis, too, likely because he has been getting closer with Lottie.

At the plane, Nat gives a final eulogy for Jackie, who was never very nice to her. “You’re lucky, you know? I think shit is gonna get a lot worse out here.” It’s a bleak reality; death, especially Jackie’s tragic but nonviolent one, might be preferable to what’s to come in the wilderness. Suddenly, a giant white moose appears, and Nat tries to shoot it but misses. It rams the plane and then disappears. She doesn’t seem to tell anyone about it afterward, making me wonder if it was real or something she imagined.

Teen Misty becomes closer to Crystal in this episode, the two hesitantly bonding over the fact that…actually, human flesh doesn’t taste all that bad. Crystal reveals it wasn’t the first time she “ate” another person, claiming to have absorbed her identical twin in the womb, the exact kind of gruesome fact that makes Misty’s eyes light up. Nuha Jes Izman, who plays Crystal, has been a killer addition to the cast, injecting the cabin scenes with weirdo comedy. She is representation for annoying, earnest, intentionally strange theater kids everywhere (aka ME at that age). Misty likes being confided in. Crystal also gives her new power via acting lessons. We’ve seen Teen Misty act before, the pity party she devolved into when Ben initially turned down her dance date ask. Crystal helps Misty take things to the next level. Perched together under a glowing sheet at night, they giddily talk about the powers of performance, and it looks almost like they could be at a regular sleepover back in Jersey and not in a cabin in the woods with no electricity and nearly nonexistent food supplies. This really is Misty’s perspective a lot of the time, though. She enjoys the wilderness, because it’s the first place where she’s able to access the sorts of regular teen experiences she sought back home. Even with Mari freezing her out, in Crystal she has once again found the kind of close camaraderie she craves.

Crystal convinces her to give the gift of a monologue to Shauna for the baby shower, and it’s tough to decide what makes this baby shower more upsetting: the cavalcade of suicidal birds or Misty’s monologue, taken from Steel Magnolias featuring a mother mourning her dead daughter. Everyone is a little disturbed but won over in the end by Misty’s talent, clapping for her while she beams.

Misty puts her acting skills to use later on as an adult when she attempts to throw citizen detective Walter off the Adam Martin trail by saying she was close with Adam’s mother and that he died of an overdose. But before that, Walter and Misty get up to a little joint acting exercise when interviewing a motel guest about Nat under the pretense of being the FBI. That motel guest turns out to be none other than Randy Walsh, always accidentally being pulled into messes he has nothing to do with. Misty knows they’ll be made if Randy sees her, so she hides in the bathroom of the boat — where Walter lives, because he prefers nautical life to the bureaucracy and red tape of land living — and feeds questions into Walter’s earpiece. (Misty, ever the theater devotee, compares this arrangement to Cyrano de Bergerac, which she believes to be an overrated play.)

Randy proves mostly un-useful, likely because Randy once again is rarely involved in any of the shenanigans other people are always making him complicit in. Misty convinces Walter to hit Randy and is then delighted when Walter threatens to escalate things with a weapon. This jostles Randy’s weak memory, and he recalls a group of people wearing purple hanging around the motel and drinking all the Fanta out of the vending machine. This is, somehow, not my favorite soda-related detail in the episode. That comes later, when Walter asks Misty to stay for a drink, offering Mountain Dew or Tahitian Treat. It’s reminiscent of when Misty offered Nat tea, coconut La Croix, or sherry. Indeed, there are quite a lot of similarities between Walter and Misty. And even though they’re working together for now, using credit card information from the vending machine to pinpoint a location for the “purple people” and agreeing to go on a trek to upstate New York together to investigate further, something Walter says suggests they’re destined to become nemeses and not partners. “Maybe I’m just a bored Moriarty looking for his Sherlock,” Walter muses. He is already mentally casting them as foes, but Misty’s also too smart to miss that. Still, I wonder if she believes a little too much in her own acting abilities to think Walter’s really going to let Adam Martin go. After all, Misty falls for Walter’s nursing home act; that wasn’t his mother, it was just a woman he knew who was getting evicted who he wanted to help (Walter seemingly has a lot of disposable income). Has Misty finally met her match?

As tends to be my modus operandi, I have saved the best for last, and the best moments of “Digestif” belong to Melanie motherfucking Lynskey, who I’m pretty sure just secured the Emmy, Golden Globe, idk EVERY AWARD? with this episode. It isn’t a Shauna-heavy episode, per se, the narrative rather evenly divided between characters in a juggling act this season has been especially good at. But when I think of “Digestif,” I’ll think of Shauna first and foremost.

Near the beginning of the episode, Shauna sits with Jeff at a diner. He’s looking despondent, as has become his usual look in his Papa Roach era. “It was the strawberry lube,” he says sadly to the table between them, prompting a waitress to perfectly spin on her heels away from whatever suburban drama this is that she certainly does not have the time for. Jeff recalls what he said about strawberry lube they acquired years before, and he asks if she remembers what he said when she suggested they try it. Shauna repeats his words from memory: “I think this stuff is for bisexuals and goths.” (This is, without a doubt, the funniest thing Jeff has ever said in his life, and I say that as a devout fan of his dad jokes.)

Now, Jeff repeats what Shauna said in response: “You’re no fun.”

This, Jeff fears, is the inciting action of Shauna’s affair, though it happened long before she met Adam. He dismissed the strawberry lube. In that moment, he chose to be this predictable, boring version of himself, the breadwinning suburban dad he feels he’s supposed to be — but also that I think he genuinely wants to be. For Jeff, it doesn’t seem to be an act like it is for Shauna, this simple domestic life with clear rules. And that makes sense. His high school girlfriend may have died tragically, but his childhood wasn’t disrupted in the same way Shauna’s was. He has always been on a path, and he has never veered from it. He feels like he can provide Shauna with comfort, with stability. But the problem is that this isn’t what Shauna really craves. Shauna says this in response to his strawberry lube diner meltdown:

“First of all: That’s not why I slept with him, okay? It wasn’t about you. I mean, sure, it was exciting — exciting, that’s not the right word. Okay. It made me feel like I didn’t know what was going to happen, and I liked that. I liked not feeling like this…boring version of me.”

Remember the words I’ve bolded, for later.

When they leave the diner, Jeff abruptly turns the car around, announcing boldly: “I’m taking us to colonial Williamsburg.” He’s trying to be spontaneous. This, he thinks, is what Shauna wants. I’m not sure what possesses him to think a woman who had to survive in the woods for over a year as a teenager would enjoy a tourist town where most of the attractions hinge on pretending to live in colonial times…but as the rest of the episode makes clear, he’s way off the mark with this one, even if his heart is in the right place.

In the midst of their reroute, a person walks out in front of the minivan, and Jeff thinks he hit him. At first, I thought, oh no, these two are going to have to badly cover up another dead body! Is this going to become their Thing! But alas, the man was just faking it so that he could carjack them at gunpoint. But as he aims the gun at them, focusing mainly on Jeff of course, Shauna uses this to her advantage and charges him, easily incapacitating him and wrestling the gun out of his hands. This alarms Jeff, who tries to get the gun away from Shauna before she can pull the trigger, and the carjacker seizes the opportunity to drive off with the van, leaving Jeff and Shauna to fight over what has just transpired.

“Are you really gonna get us killed over our piece of shit minivan?” Jeff asks, appalled at Shauna’s erratic behavior, apparently not at all impressed by her VERY IMPRESSIVE MANEUVERS. She reminds him, in a bit of very fun comedic relief, that all their quarters were in there! And Mr. Shwoozums, Callie’s beloved teddy bear from when she was six.

Jeff is exasperated, frustrated. He can’t see what’s right in front of him: Shauna doesn’t want a spontaneous trip to colonial Williamsburg. This is what she wants. Impulsiveness. Danger. Violence. She got that gun from that guy like it was nothing. If Jeff had let her threaten — or even hurt — that man and they’d gotten back in their van, I bet Shauna would have wanted to have sex in it. This is what gets her going.

Later, Jeff approaches Kevyn Tan at the gym and threatens him, but it backfires, because everything Jeff is trying on these days is like a costume. He really is at his core the dependable, predictable suburban dad who tells jokes, grills meats, goes to work, comes home and puts on SportsCenter. When he steps outside of that, things go wrong, as we saw when his blackmail ploy went wildly south last season. Shauna can slip in and out of different lives; he can’t. Kevyn is calm and collected in the face of his anger, is only increasingly suspicious of Shauna when Jeff reveals she was upset. Kevyn tells him someone told their investigators Shauna was having an affair. “We’ve been married almost 25 years,” Jeff says, and it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself that he knows his wife, not Kevyn.

Sure, Jeff may have read Shauna’s journals a long time ago, but he’s fooling himself if he thinks he really knows his wife. He’s fooling himself if he thinks colonial Williamsburg is anything she wants.

After all, he doesn’t know what Shauna’s up to, the lengths she’ll go to to get back her van. She gets dropped off somewhere shady, tracking the car on her phone. She pulls out the gun she still has from earlier as she walks into a body shop. No one stops her; no one sees her. Because to the outside world, Shauna still just is a stay-at-home mom. People don’t see her as a threat. When she pulls up on a guy in the back office with the gun aimed at him, he’s patronizing. It’s one thing to hold a gun, another to use it, he remarks. “I can see your hands shaking.”

And then Melanie Lynskey delivers a monologue that might be my favorite Yellowjackets moment to date. It’s chilling; it’s shocking; it’s impossible to scrub out of your mind.

“Have you ever peeled the skin off a human corpse? It’s not as easy as you might think. It’s really, uh, stuck on us — skin. You have to roll back just the edges of it so you can get a good enough grip to really pull. Which again, isn’t easy. People are always so sweaty when you kill them, just like really oily. There’s a look people get when they realize they’re going to die. It’s that one. My hand wasn’t shaking because I was afraid. It was shaking because of how badly I wanted to do this.”

She gulps for breath, unsteady, and given everything she has just said, it’s clear she isn’t trying to talk herself into hurting this man but out of it. She wants to do it so badly.

And now is when I must posit a question that has been weighing on me greatly: Is it possible we’re wrong about Lottie being the Antler Queen? We deduced as much after she was framed by antlers in a shot in season one and then later actually donned a crown made from them. But is this genuine confirmation? Could our real Antler Queen be Shauna? Something about the way the Antler Queen gestures for the others to eat the flesh in the show’s pilot does echo the way Shauna grants permission to feast on Jackie in “Edible Complex.” Could Lottie’s ascension to a cult leader in her adulthood not be an attempt to reclaim the position she had in the woods but rather a position that she was denied and feels she is owed? Or is Lottie indeed the Antler Queen and Shauna is something like her war general? After all, we don’t see the Antler Queen do any of the hunting or slaying herself; it’s easy to assume Shauna’s holding the knife when a girl’s throat is slashed to drain her blood in the pilot. Adult Lottie, on the surface, seems more nefarious than Adult Shauna, but doesn’t that hinge on the exact assumptions I’m talking about when I say these dangerous men in the chop shop don’t see Shauna as just as dangerous as them? Shauna might not have an army of followers, but she’s like a sleeper agent, performing a boring by-the-numbers life while harboring a hunger for violence, for murder! This monologue makes her sound extremely hungry for murder! She would never cry over dead bees like Lottie.

I don’t consume a lot of serial killer or true crime content myself, but my fiancé does watch a tremendous amount of Criminal Minds, and while I’m not an active viewer, I’ve passively ingested enough of the show to know that a common narrative about serial killers is that they can often live very normal lives, with spouses, kids, quaint little homes tucked into quiet neighborhoods. And they can often go through long stretches of not killing, too. How many people has Shauna killed? The way she talks here, I think it’s much more than just Adam. I think stabbing Adam, which she also did so easily and without any remorse despite having a long sexual affair with him, reanimated something dormant in her. I don’t think Shauna has been secretly serial killing for the past 25 years, but I do think she has killed more than we think and isn’t just capable of violence but actively courts it.

And that brings me back to a subtle but ultimately very meaningful parallel I noticed between the two Shaunas in this episode. Remember those bolded words from above that Shauna says to Jeff? She said she liked the affair with Adam, because she felt like she didn’t know what was going to happen. Later, Teen Shauna says the following to Lottie in the cabin, still reckoning with the Jackie feast from the night before and clearly rattled by it:

“I’m scared, Lottie. Everything just feels out of control, like I don’t know what’s gonna happen next. What if I—”

Lottie interrupts her to say she won’t hurt the baby. And there’s a lot packed into this short conversation between them, so it’d be easy to miss this echoing of words, especially since it’s not perfectly verbatim. But this can’t be a coincidence, right? Teen Shauna is terrified by the prospect of not knowing what’s going to happen next. But as an adult, Shauna craves that uncertainty. Her fear has alchemized into desire. The Shaunas express these sentiments in different contexts, and Sophie Nélisse and Melanie Lynskey imbue the words with tonally disparate emotions, but it feels very significant in both moments. What if Shauna’s response to feeling out of control is ultimately to embrace it? To flirt with chaos the way we see her do as an adult? Sometimes the only way to conquer what we’re scared of is to turn it into something pleasurable, as fucked-up as that can sometimes feel. Teen Shauna and Adult Shauna both have talked about feeling fucked-up this season, Adult Shauna in the premiere and Teen Shauna here in “Digestif.”

I do doubt Adult Taissa and Adult Nat would be so trusting of Adult Shauna the way they are in season one if she had been some sadistic ruler in the wilderness, but I also think Shauna is sometimes good at pinning things on others, the way she convinced the group to isolate Jackie from the cabin even though she was the one who had so greatly betrayed Jackie. It’s possible she could have done worse in the woods but been able to scapegoat Lottie or otherwise manipulate those around her. Shauna’s not good at lying, but she does have a tendency to get away with shit. And this moment in the chop shop makes it clear that violence isn’t just a means to an end for her; it’s something that actively excites her.

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Last Buzz:

• Mari is hearing a dripping sound that no one else is hearing. What’s that about?
• Tawny Cypress confirmed that Tai purposefully crashed the car at the end of last episode, and I already figured as much, but we also get textual confirmation in this episode when her campaign manager says that she ran a red light. Was it a possessed version of Tai trying to get rid of Simone, or was it Tai actually trying to protect Simone by merely injuring her before the possession could do worse? The smirk makes me think it’s the former, but I’m leaving room for the latter interpretation just because it’s definitely ambiguous how much control the real Tai has/doesn’t have in this altered state.
• The episode’s title “Digestif” refers to drinks typically served after dinner to aid with digestion. I love digestifs, because my favorite drink is a popular one (Fernet), and because it’s basically just an excuse to have amaro for dessert. I suppose Jackie was last week’s main course, and this episode contending with the aftermath of eating her is our little digestif. Idk, a snifter of Fernet is a lot more relaxing than the vibe of this episode! Anyway, do you have a favorite digestif?
• Without the support of our A+ members, I would not be able to spend many hours on these recaps every week, so if you’re not a member but have been considering becoming one, now’s a great time! At the A+ virtual Yellowjackets watch parties last month, one BRILLIANT member who goes by @tentaclerental in the comments created this gorgeous Jeff collage that I no joke want to hang in my office:
  

15 Excellent LGBTQ TV Parents Because I Started Watching Succession and YIKES

I recently started watching Succession and holy cats Logan Roy is the worst parent in the history of TV! Worse than Hiram Lodge from Riverdale! Worse than Aaron Echolls from Veronica Mars! Worse than all the parents in their weird cult in Marvel’s Runaways! Worse than Tony Soprano! Worse than Ross Gellar! Logan Roy’s whole entire deal is just… physically, mentally, and psychologically torturing his terrible children, who probably always would have been terrible, but are extra-terrible because their father is human garbage! Anyway, I had to take a break from my Succession binge to rewatch The Owl House and remind myself that all parents are not like fuckin’ Logan Roy — and while I was doing that, I went ahead and made a little list of TV parents of LGBTQ+ kids that are actually pretty dang awesome.

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Stef and Lena Adams Foster, The Fosters

The Coach and Tammy Taylor of gay TV, Stef and Lena raised their own Julie Taylor (Brandon) but also some really excellent kids, including queer teen Jude who they nurtured and supported through gender-nonconformity, coming out, first love, first heartbreak, and also finding out his sister was dating their brother. They loved all their kids, and never stopped bringing more into their home because their hearts were just that big.

Camila Noceda, The Owl House

Some parents embrace their bi daughters and their bi daughter’s lesbian girlfriends. And then some parents, like Camila Noceda, embrace their bi daughters while letting an entire gaggle of kids from the Demon Realm move in with them and plot to rebuild a portal to a magical world. The Camilas of the land pin rainbow hearts to their sweaters and never take them off. They buy books about bashing the binary and adopt orphaned queer basilisk shape-shifters. They wield baseball bats to protect their kids from evil wizards. Also there’s only one of them. Our Camila! Camila Noceda! What a sweet potato!

Bert and Gracie, A League of Their Own

Bert and Gracie aren’t really Max Chapman’s parents; they’re her aunt and uncle — but they step up and serve the kind of parental role she needs when she’s grappling with her sexuality, with chasing her baseball dreams, and with figuring out how to dress in a way that makes her feel at home in her clothes. They have her over for dinner, cut her hair, take her out, make her suits, and encourage her to follow her heart (and her girl) even when it feels like the scariest thing in the world. They lend her their own courage, and she gladly accepts it.

Wayne Fields, Pretty Little Liars

It’s hard to call any of the parents on Pretty Little Liars “good” parents. If they were “good” parents, they’d absolutely 100% no question move their children out of Rosewood, PA. But Wayne Fields was the best of the bunch. Not only did he support Emily fully when she came out to him, he later climbed a drain pipe and shimmied up the brick wall of Rosewood High School to rescue Emily one night when the building came to life and tried to murder her. He tucked her under his arm and pulled her down the stairs and outside to safety while the marquee in the hallway flashed ACT NORMAL BITCH. A true hero.

Captain Carol Freeman, Star Trek: Lower Decks

Two of the hardest things in the world are being a Starfleet Captain and being a mom (I would assume, I have never been either), but Carol Freeman is the best at both of them. Her bisexual daughter is a crew member on her ship, and Carol doesn’t play favorites. And sure, she’s a little hard on her sometimes, but she kind of has to be: Beckett Mariner thrives on chaos in an organization ruled by order. But Carol’s always finding the balance between encouragement and tough love, and apologizing when she misses the mark. She’s firm, she’s fair, she’s a total boss.

Joel, The Last of Us

Another surrogate parent for the list, Joel goes to great lengths to NOT think of Ellie as his daughter, but he keeps failing at it over and over because he can’t help it. He was born to be a dad and he loves her, okay? He loves her. In fact he loves her so much that her personal well-being is more important to him than the fate of all humanity, and he’ll stop at nothing to keep her safe from every danger of the apocalypse. And when she can’t go on any longer, he’ll literally carry her the rest of the way.

Burt Hummel, Glee

There was only one Glee character better than Burt Hummel and that was Santana Lopez who is the greatest TV character of all time, so it’s not really a fair comparison. Burt didn’t understand Kurt and his Beyonce shenanigans at first — but he worked hard to learn about gay stuff and to see his son’s heart, and then to protect him from everything the world threw at him. He was there for his concerts, there for his heartbreak, there to teach him about safer sex, and there when he married the love of his life. World’s Best Dad. Tattoo it on his heart.

Angela Bassett, Master of None

Mother. Mommi. Mother. Hang on. Mommi. DANG IT. One second. *hoses self off with ice water* Hem hem. Right, so, Angela Bassett played Lena Waithe’s mom in the Thanksgiving episode of Master of None that launched Lena into the stratosphere. At first she had a hard time understanding her daughter’s sexuality, didn’t even want to discuss it, but she worked hard on herself so that Denise could feel comfortable bringing her girlfriend home for the holidays, so she could laugh with her daughter’s lover, and even let her help make the mac and cheese.

Penelope Alvarez, One Day at a Time

Penelope Alvarez did one of the toughest things in the world when she was raising her kids, including lesbian nerd Elena: she kept them right in the center of her world, and she didn’t stop living her own life. She modeled being an adult who just keeps on growing, and even messes up sometimes. But nothing could keep her form being there for her kids when they needed her. When Elena came out, when she brought home her Syd-nificant other, when she decided she was ready to have sex, when she wanted to wear a suit, when she needed to stand up to her dad. Penelope was always right beside her, with a smile, a word of encouragement, a hug, and a reality check when it was needed.

Gina Campbell, Skins

I bet you didn’t remember Naomi Campbell’s mom on Skins was Olivia Colman, did you? Gina wasn’t perfect, of course; she was running some kind of socialist cult out of her living room, and she slept with Naomi’s history teacher after he made a pass at Naomi — but when Naomi couldn’t stop destroying her own happiness because she was scared of falling for Emily Fitch, her mom sat her down and told her a hard truth: that The people who make us happy are never the people we expect. So when you find someone, you’ve got to cherish it. It gave Naomi the courage she needed to chase the girl she loved; the part about it being gay love was never even a worry for her mum.

Honey Ellis, Fresh Off the Boat

Honey was Nicole’s step-mom, way younger than Nicole’s actual mom, and they didn’t always see eye-to-eye — but when Honey ran into Nicole at the Denim Turtle, the town’s gay bar, she saw her step-daughter in a new light and agreed to help coach the lesbian softball team’s game against Nicole’s dad’s team. She knew nothing about softball, didn’t even own a ball cap, but she went for it and stood beside Nicole when she came out to her dad right there on the field.

Eliza Danvers, Supergirl

Eliza Danvers loved her daughters more than anything in the world. They were both superheroes to her (and, in fact, they both became superheroes in the end). Sure, sure, there were tough times; it’s never easy to adopt a child from a planet where they were basically a goddess, but Eliza ultimately found a way to balance it all, and support Alex as she came out as a grown-up and chased the kind of life she’s always wanted: wife and kids and her sister as her best friend forever.

Randall and Beth Pearson, This Is Us

Tess Peason’s coming out on This Is Us remains one of our all-time favorites here at Autostraddle dot com, in large part because of how Beth and Randall handled it. Tess cries as she finally confesses that she’s not like the other girls at school who are getting boyfriends; she doesn’t want a boyfriend, like ever. She maybe even wants a girlfriend. Very, very gently, Randall says, “Tess. Hey, Tess. Listen. We’re your parents. We’re here to help you, in a cool, laid back kind of way, without it becoming a thing.” Beth wraps her up in her arms and says, “We love you. No matter what. Okay? Look at me. You see me? Look at your dad. You see him? Do you see anything other than two people who love you more than any two people could ever love anyone?” Tess does seem them, really sees them, maybe for the first time ever, and it changes the shape of her entire world.

To L And Back: Generation Q Podcast Bonus Episode: Goodbye, Again

By now you’ve surely heard that The L Word: Generation Q is no more, and boy are we sad about it! After months of bated breath, we received word last month that the show will not return for another season, and to top it off, is no longer available on Showtime anymore. On the…brighter? side? Maybe? We have also received word that original series showrunner, Ilene Chaiken, is already back to the grindstone: hard at work on a(nother) reboot set in New York.

Come join us to commiserate the end of our problematic fave, to talk about the state of queer television at large, and what We, the hosts of To L and Back, would have happen to all of the characters after the end of this season!

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SHOW NOTES

• Riese would like to amend her assertions about The Real World: Back to New York — it was filmed from January through June of 2001, and then premiered in June 2001 for 33 episodes. This means it was filmed before 9/11. However, she was correct that the Chicago season was the one that was being filmed when 9/11 actually occurred.
• One last plug (I had to) for my Letterboxd, and Drew’s, where we continue to do absurd film-viewing projects
• Also this is Riese’s letterboxed for kicks
• Our team’s tribute to A League of Their Own
• Riese’s eulogy for One Mississippi
• Drew’s Lesbian Cinema Encyclopedia
• The cast’s goodbyes to the series
• Our ranking of every sex scene in Gen Q! (To end on a light note.)

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Drew: Hi, I’m Drew.

Analyssa: And I’m Analyssa.

Riese: And I’m Riese.

Drew: And this is To L and Back.

Riese: To L and Back: Generation Q edition.

Analyssa: Generation Q edition.

Riese: Back to New York.

Drew: Back to New York?

Analyssa: Well, not yet.

Riese: Not yet. Sorry, that was a reference to season 10 of The Real World where they went back to New York and they called it The Real World: Back to New York.

Riese: Because the first episode of The Real World… The first season of The Real World was in New York.

Analyssa: What year, approximately, do you think season 10 of The Real World aired?

Riese: 2002 or 2003.

Drew: I was in elementary school.

Riese: Because I think 9/11 happened during the Chicago season. The first season-

Analyssa: Did they have to address that in the universe of The Real World? I know it’s about the real world, famously, but did they discuss 9/11? Was it happening while they were filming?

Riese: Yeah, they watched it happen.

Analyssa: What?

Drew: Wow. I don’t think I have an understanding— The Real World was never something I watched. I think by the time I came to The Real World universe, it was Real World vs. Road Rules. It was years later.

Riese: Well, it stopped being good around, I would say, the Las Vegas season. It started taking a turn where it became like a lot of reality shows are now, which is just about young hot people drinking a lot and having drama, you know?

Analyssa: Sure.

Riese: But in the beginning, it was very much a genuine social experiment of mixing people from all these different backgrounds, especially at a time when the internet wasn’t a thing, so people really didn’t know about anything besides their own little world, and putting them all in a house together and seeing what would happen. A lot of interesting things came out of that, but then the vibe shifted as MTV shifted more towards those types of party shows and The OC, or whatever that was called, Laguna Beach or something.

Analyssa: Laguna Beach.

Riese: And Super Sweet 16 and Teen Mom and all that kind of stuff. The vibe of MTV was shifting away from progressive, social, alternative, indie rock, whatever, towards more trashy reality TV, I guess, which has a place in the universe.

Analyssa: Which was my favorite era of MTV. That was the era I grew up in. Also I watched Reality Bites last year in my rom-com project, and Reality Bites is about that shift.

Riese: Great film.

Drew: I liked Jackass.

Analyssa: I forgot you were a Jackass kid.

Drew: I really was.

Analyssa: That was not my vibe.

Riese: One thing no one ever talks about is I Want a Famous Face. Does anyone remember the show?

Analyssa: I do remember that show.

Drew: Is that the show where people got plastic surgery to look like famous people? I vaguely recall that.

Riese: People didn’t talk about it enough at the time, and they’re not talking about it enough today.

Analyssa: That’s how I feel about the reality show The Swan which was fucked up.

Drew: Oh The Swan.

Riese: That was wild. Every now and then I get into another Swan rabbit hole and just get lost in what a time that was.

Drew: I’m scared, because I do think that cyclically in media — and maybe this can get us to The L Word — I do feel like we’re back in a place where queerness is going down, fatphobia is going up, where I am feeling because of my young age of 29 that I’m experiencing a backslide culturally in a way that I maybe never have. Obviously Donald Trump was elected president in my lifetime, but that galvanized people in a way where, yes, he was president, but the culture around me… my mom was all of a sudden liberal, you know?

Riese: Yeah.

Drew: It felt like people were getting more liberal around me, not less.

Riese: Well, and also in art, when Donald Trump was elected, the amount of shows that had queer characters skyrocketed, the racial diversity of shows, because suddenly it was like, “We’re in this hellscape. We have to…” Suddenly people were finally on board with doing all these things that we were asking for forever, because they were no longer in this like, “Why do we need more diverse TV shows? Obama is president,” you know?

Drew: Right. Weird. I don’t know. I know that progress isn’t linear, but it’s still jarring. Certain things have been jarring in recent months. Look, not to keep dragging my family into this, but I’m aware that fatphobia was alive and well before six months ago, but I at least thought in certain circles… I don’t know. Just, it’s wild to me how, I don’t know, the way people are talking about gender and sexuality, the way people are talking about race, the way people are talking about bodies, it feels like we’re in a bad moment.

Analyssa: I feel like this has been a topic of conversation about Gen Z too, and their reaction to sex scenes and sex in culture. I don’t know, I haven’t really noticed this personally, so I can’t really say whether it’s accurate or not, but I do feel like people are talking about that a lot, that there’s a move towards more…

Drew: Puritan.

Analyssa: Puritanical, for lack of a better word, views on sex.

Riese: I think that was easy to call, the forces leading to that.

Drew: Should we share that this is a podcast where we talk about The L Word: Generation Q, a show that no longer exists?

Riese: It was, yeah. This is a podcast where we talk about The L Word: Generation Q on Showtime, a program that brought our community together.

Drew: And tore us apart.

Riese: Brought us to new heights of life, and now I guess is over. It has been canceled.

Drew: Which we knew.

Analyssa: I know.

Riese: Well, I really think I was in denial.

Drew: There’s something that’s also important to obviously talk about, which anyone listening to this podcast I’m sure knows, which is that the cancellation announcement was paired with an announcement that Ilene Chaiken is already working on The L Word: New York, which my question is—

Riese: Why?

Drew: Why would be one question. That not so much. The question I have more is, will we ever actually see The L Word: New York? Shows get announced all the time. The Farm never happened. Is it something that’s being announced in order for Showtime to not have gay people angry at them, or do we think that it’s actually a thing that’s going to someday be real? I have my doubts.

Riese: I have no fucking idea, because “in development” means nothing. It feels like the way that was released was as a rumor. The reporter who reported it was like, “I hear,” which I assume meant that she heard from Ilene Chaiken or from somebody else in that universe or whatever. It seemed a little bit odd for that to be happening after there was this big fan push towards, “Reboot the OG series again, put Ilene Chaiken in charge,” as if everyone forgot that she did so many things right, but she did so many things wrong. Suddenly everybody’s idealizing Ilene Chaiken.

Drew: As people do to the past.

Riese: As people do to the past, and wanting her to bring back the show or have a new showrunner. So, it seems interesting that they would say that. I just wonder what is going on behind the scenes, what the rumblings are, and does this mean the original cast would be a part of it? Are Bette and Tina going to be there? Or are they going to be in Toronto doing Murdoch Mysteries? Who would be in New York? Also how would that work out for us in terms of whether or not we would get invited to any parties?

Analyssa: Which is number one on the agenda.

Drew: I don’t know. It’s also a question of, do we want that?

Analyssa: To be invited to the parties?

Drew: No, obviously we want to be invited to the parties, but do we want The L Word franchise to live on, especially back in the hands of… If it was announced that it was like, I don’t know, who’s someone who’s cool that we like and is a good writer? And it was like, “This person is going to be doing a new L Word.” I’d be like, “Incredible, amazing. I love it.”

Analyssa: Riese Bernard.

Riese: Tanya Saracho.

Analyssa: Better answer, I guess. Sure.

Drew: Yeah. If that was announced, it’d be crazy. But I don’t necessarily know if I need more Ilene Chaiken L Word. I don’t really know what that’s going to offer. I don’t know. But it is also one of these things where I think a lot of the problems of Gen Q were baked into the premise in the sense of having now watched the Queer As Folk reboot, which I liked more than some, but it wasn’t perfect by any means, I think the idea of a queer ensemble show that is trying to be everything is going to fail always, both artistically and creatively. I think A League of Their Own comes closest, and it’s because it really grounds it in a certain history and is not trying to be everything per se, even though I think it does a really good job at representing a lot of different identities, but still, it at least has baseball to be based around. I don’t know.

Riese: But they also don’t have to… They have certain rules about how society was structured at that time in history that gives them a box from within to tell their story, where I think there’s less room to totally fuck up what you’re doing. You know what I mean? You can’t put Micah and Maribel’s story into A League of Their Own. It would never happen so therefore it would never be fucked up. Do you know what I mean?

Drew: Sure. But I do still think that the League of Their Own reboot spends half of its runtime on Black characters, which in rebooting the original League of Their Own, that wouldn’t be the choice that I think a lot of writers would have taken.

Riese: No.

Drew: Also so many people are gay or queer, and also they include trans characters. I do think they do a pretty impressive job, but that show is also getting canceled.

Riese: That’s the thing. Because people were like, “Why do we need this? Why can’t we just have a really well-written show about queer people?” And I’m like, “There is one. It’s called A League of Their Own. It came out last year, and it just got canceled.” We got that. That imaginary show we were all dreaming of that had an ensemble that was all the main characters were queer and it was just their stories, and it wasn’t just about white people and it wasn’t just cis… We got it.

Drew: It’s a bummer. I do think that if we were to get The L Word: New York, I would want it to be like — it’s so funny, because this show got such backlash, and I understand why — but Looking, where that show wasn’t very representative of all gay people in San Francisco. It was very white, it was very, very cis, but it’s really good, and it feels like it’s people who all are in the same world together. There are times where its somewhat sheltered characters are pulled out of their world in ways that I think are well-done. Speaking of Tanya Saracho, she was a writer on it. And Vida is another one where that’s a specific queer space.

Riese: A community.

Drew: Gen Q not having trans women characters was brutal because they tried to have it seemed like every other character… and they did a bad job with all of them that weren’t whatever. But in general, I don’t want Ilene Chaiken writing a trans woman. That’s a nightmare. I don’t want that. I want her to make—

Riese: Write the Bette and Tina show, and it’s middle-aged… or lesbians in their fifties and sixties and stuff, their lives or whatever; whatever it is that she can speak to I think, whatever that looks like. The social group represented in Gen Q was realistic except for that there were no trans women in it. There wasn’t anyone in that social group who wouldn’t be ordinarily, no one felt stuffed in, you know what I mean? But I don’t know.

Drew: Identity-wise, no, but writing-wise, yes. Writing-wise, they never really knew what to do with Micah. That’s more I guess what I’m getting at, is theoretically you can have a lot of… There are plenty of friend groups that are very diverse in the truest meaning of that word, but a lot of times writers can’t really make that work, because that’s not their experience.

Analyssa: I do think it’s worth noting — well, there’s two things I want to talk about — but the first thing is Ilene Chaiken developing this, like Riese said, “in development” doesn’t really mean anything. It means someone has some idea that they’re thinking about at home sometimes. But it also doesn’t mean she’s writing. Ilene Chaiken developed The L Word: Generation Q.

Drew: That’s true.

Analyssa: And then she brought Marja in as a showrunner, and then they assembled a writers room.

Riese: So, it could still be me?

Analyssa: It could still be Riese. All three of us could find our way into The L Word: New York.

Drew: Oh my god, my phone’s ringing right now. Ilene!

Analyssa: I was thinking about this on the drive home from work, because I actually have a lot of thoughts about the business side of this, because that’s what I do for my day job, but I think it’s probably pretty boring to people listening. But Ilene Chaiken is going to be involved as an executive producer in developing any L Word reboot for the rest of time. Anytime The L Word comes up, Ilene is going to be at least involved in the conversation, and for all the reasons that Drew said and Riese has said, good and bad, you know what I mean? It means something to people, but also it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s the best product, but it just comes with the property now, which is just something for people to know when we’re talking about something like this. It’s always going to be Ilene Chaiken’s L Word, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s Ilene Chaiken’s L Word, if that makes sense.

Riese: That’s true.

Analyssa: The other thing was that I feel like we all read the announcement of her developing this show differently. I was like, “I think it’s The L Word with all new characters in New York City.” Is it a period piece? I have no idea. But it’s just a group of lesbians in New York City, and I think Riese had a different take.

Riese: I thought it was going to be the original cast members, shedding Gen Q, and either they were going to go back in time to have it take place in 2010, 2011 when Bette and Tina allegedly just moved to New York. Because also at some point Shane moved to New York, because Shane had the salons. Shane moves back to LA in the beginning of Gen Q. So either it’s going to be a prequel or whatever, which would be great, because then Shane would have the eyeliner again and we’d all get to relive that, and that was a meaningful thing for me personally. It’s either that or I think it’s going to be the original cast, but I don’t know how they would all get to New York. But also it’s about LA! That’s the whole point of The L Word. I love New York. New York City is my favorite city, but I think The L Word is an LA show. It’s about lesbian life in LA.

Drew: Well, that’s why it has to say “New York” in the title. Again, that’s why it’s called The L Word: New York. My thought process, when I first heard it, I thought entirely new characters, just lesbians in New York present-day. Then I was like, “Or-”

Riese: Why?

Drew: “What if it’s a 90s…” Well, because I thought of it as a Queer As Folk-type thing.

Riese: Then why use the name?

Drew: Because it’s easier to get a show made.

Analyssa: Well, and because it means something. The Real L Word, why call it that if it’s… You know what I mean? Why? It’s not a scripted show, but it had the same idea at its center, you know?

Drew: Yeah. I think that potentially it takes place in the ’90s. New actors are cast to play our core characters.

Analyssa: Oh my God.

Drew: It is a prequel, but we get Shane; someone’s cast to play ’90s Shane.

Riese: Could Kristen Stewart play ’90s Shane?

Drew: Can you imagine?

Riese: She’s never done TV besides being on Irma Vep for one second. But if Kristen Stewart was cast as baby Shane, that would be a hit right there. That’s a hit. That’s a hit.

Drew: She’s too old, though, for ’90s Shane. They need to cast someone who’s 20.

Analyssa: But ’90s Shane had lived a lot of life by then, you know?

Drew: That’s true, that’s true.

Riese: Yeah.

Analyssa: I really did think before this show started Kristen Stewart was on the get list for The L Word. It was announced—

Riese: She’s never going to do TV.

Analyssa: No, certainly not. But it was announced in 2017, 2018 that they were developing it. It was peak Kristen Stewart coming out, talking about being queer, publicly appearing with people she was dating. And I was like, “This is going to happen.” That feels so, so long ago now.

Riese: What they really should do is they should cast Jacqueline Toboni to play ’90s Shane.

Drew: Wow. That would be a choice.

Riese: I would love that. I would have such a good time.

Analyssa: It’d be so fun if they could bring back the young members of Gen Q as prequel members of the original L Word cast, except that none of them were ethnically diverse enough. You could retcon a bunch of people.

Riese: What if it was just a shot-by-shot remake of The Carrie Diaries, but everyone’s gay?

Drew: I haven’t seen it, but I was thinking The Carrie Diaries. It was The Bette Diaries. Was Bette ever in New York?

Analyssa: Mm-hmm.

Riese: Well, she went to Yale, and that’s a train ride away.

Drew: So what happened? Do we know the history of that?

Riese: No, she was in New York. She was in New York.

Analyssa: When Alice and Bette were at the opera, isn’t that in New York?

Riese: No. I think she was in New York at some point. I’m pretty positive.

Analyssa: Maybe I just think of the opera as a New York activity, so I’m like, “They must have been on the East Coast then.”

Drew: Also when has The L Word ever cared about continuity or things being correct? They could easily be like, “It’s about Bette and Alice dating in New York.”

Riese: That would be your dream show.

Drew: It would be. Bette is played by… God, can you imagine how The L Word fandom would react if someone else played Bette or any of these characters?

Riese: But imagine a young queer actress playing Bette.

Drew: That’d be so cool.

Analyssa: Jasmin Savoy Brown.

Riese: That’s who I was about to say, Jasmin Savoy Brown.

Analyssa: Obviously top of mind because of Yellowjackets‘ premiere recently.

Riese: There you go. Cast, perfect. Jacqueline Toboni…

Analyssa: We did it.

Riese: I don’t know how I feel about the spinoff. Obviously it’s, again, hard for me to separate my own business interests from the interests of myself as a person, but I really enjoyed everything happening around The L Word: Generation Q so much, you know what I mean? I liked that I got to write recaps and people got to give me compliments about how good I am at recapping. I love doing the podcast with you guys. That crazy week in LA when it premiered in 2019 was a week to remember, and partially forget, but also remember. It was just very exciting. I guess the reboot came up during a time in my life when I was not doing very well, and it was a lot of excitement and fun and flurry and getting back into recaps, and I love that.

I think what I really wanted was for it to keep going, but with a new showrunner. That’s what I want more than an L Word: New York. I wanted this to keep going, but to be done; for them to, not get back to the drawing board, but kind of, you know what I mean? They can’t retcon anything, but try to fix a little bit and move forward. The showrunners switch out during series after a few seasons all the time, don’t they?

Drew: I guess because Marja had an overall, I was feeling less optimistic about that, which I think we maybe talked about. But it seems like Showtime wouldn’t necessarily invest… I don’t know. Whatever cost that would have entailed, I don’t think they cared enough. But I also think that, what shows are left? Yellowjackets and The Last of Us, which is another interesting… I know it’s only two shows and two shows don’t make a pattern, but it is interesting that the highest-profile queer shows that aren’t getting canceled are-

Riese: Genre shows?

Drew: Yeah, are violent and about… Yes, genre, but it’s not even genre like CW superheroes genre. Genre in the sense of really brutal, violent, scary, somewhat despairing television, which feels interesting. I think one of those shows is a lot better than the other one, but I don’t know. Obviously, Hacks is still on and I’ve since caught up on Hacks and think it’s great, but one of two protagonists…

Riese: And Sort Of.

Drew: Sort Of is so good. I guess because Sort Of is Canadian, I don’t think of it as indicative, but I guess HBO probably gives some money to it.

Riese: It feels just really scary that shows that are centered, the queer person is the star or it’s a queer ensemble, cannot seem to not get canceled. And there’s always everyone’s like, “We need to make our own stuff,” and it’s like, “No, you don’t.” I don’t want another 2,500 lesbian web series out there; that’s not what we need. Unfortunately, people who have the money do have to invest some of it if we’re going to scare ourselves on TV, you know?

Drew: Yeah.

Riese: But it bums me out, even though it was bad.

Analyssa: Well, and I would love for, like you said, queer-centered shows or shows with a bunch of queer characters to have the opportunity to be a little bit bad and still get a chance to find their footing, figure out what the problems are, get more on level ground, because I think there are so many shows that have really uneven seasons or a lot of drama behind the scenes or whatever; like you said, showrunner switches, and they still get to run for a number of seasons.
I don’t understand… I do, but I wish it weren’t the case that it’s the ones who aren’t allowed to really flounder a little bit are queer shows. And that’s not me being, “This was the best show ever, and it should have run forever the way it was running before,” because we obviously had our thoughts about it. But it’s not a show that doesn’t have an audience. And A League of Their Own is the same way. It’s not like people don’t love that show.

Riese: Yeah, people love it.

Analyssa: I don’t know. There’s always a reason, and that reason never seems to apply to other shows, even if they have the same kind of problems.

Drew: I do think that, again, it’s all cyclical, and TV in general right now is at a really bad place, writers’ strike coming up. And I do think it’s not that we shouldn’t be fighting for more and better. I think I probably place a little bit more emphasis on the “better” portion of that in the sense that I will miss the camaraderie and the community built around The L Word: Generation Q, but I do think we can ask for more and ask for better. I just think it’s a matter of time in the sense of there will be queer shows, the patterns will fluctuate; one streaming site will crumble, and a new wave of shows, whether it’s we go back to an old way of television being made or we go to a new way of television being made, there’s going to be another boom and then another bust, and it’s just always what happens. That has happened since the beginning of movies being made professionally and as an industry.

So, I don’t usually feel very doomsday about media in general, about queer media specifically. It sucks to be in this point of time where we’re losing these shows, and especially when you have attachments to certain characters; it sucks. But I do think things will get better again, and maybe even better than they ever have been. I do believe that. In looking at the GLAAD numbers that come out of, “These are the number of queer characters,” I would love if in the next wave of things getting better if we focus less… I think those numbers are like the Bechdel test in the sense of it can be helpful as a tool and as a test, but that’s not—

Riese: The end-all, be-all. You need a qualitative analysis as well as a quantitative analysis, and I think some of that has to be about community. We want shows that are about queer communities. That’s what Gen Q was, that’s what A League of Their Own was, that’s what Generation was: communities of humans who are all queer, because that’s really realistic. Instead of us just being part of a straight person’s story or one queer friend in the social group, which I know is common as well, but also queer community is really common, and we don’t see shows like that.

Drew: I definitely agree with that as one of the measurements, so I definitely will be sadder about the cancellation of something that centers queer people than the cancellation of something where there’s a subplot, or not even a subplot, but even one of the main characters. I’m not going to care as much. I’ll care if the show is really good, but I’ll be forgiving towards a Gen Q or a Queer As Folk reboot. I think what’s frustrating to me is that I would rather live in a world where we don’t have to be forgiving. That’s why A League of Their Own felt so special, and I’m really sad. It’s not official yet, so hopefully it doesn’t get canceled, or at least they get more than four episodes for this second and last season, because that felt like a real mix of a populist art that a lot of people could watch and have fun with and obsess over, but that’s also really good, and to me was like, “This is what we could be asking for.” So, that’s a bummer that that also got canceled potentially.

But I don’t know. I guess I’m just looking at the landscape, and in 2012, the idea that the company that sent us DVDs in the mail would make a big queer women ensemble with a trans woman involved about women’s prisons, that would have been wild. That’s 10 years ago, so who knows what the next 10 years are going to bring? I think right now feels really bad and sucks. I literally work in the industry; if people who have been showrunners and are queer, or specifically trans, aren’t getting jobs, I’m fucked. But I think I’m able to just be like, “Well, for now, I’m fucked for a few years at least, but then media always changes,” and I weirdly feel more optimistic when things are bad because I know that they’ll get better than when things are “good,” and we’re being told that everything is great because—

Analyssa: That we don’t need diversity on screen because someone is president.

Drew: Yeah, where it’s like, “We have Gen Q, so what more could you want?” Or, “Euphoria is…” I guess Euphoria is still on, still kicking, and it’s like, “What do you mean? You have this.” That drives me crazy, whereas there being nothing, even First Kill can’t get renewed, Warrior Nun is getting canceled. It doesn’t matter what type of show it is. I think that to me, I’m able to be like, “But there will be more shows that get made, and in the meantime watch Sort Of and actually talk about it, and if you’re not as excited about Sort Of, maybe examine some of your biases,” while at the same time understanding that it is a much lower-budget show that’s made in Canada. I’m in Canada currently myself, so that’s not a knock on Canada; it’s just the industry here is different, and it’s not the same kind of show. I get that. But also enjoy, and also there’s a hundred years of media that you can potentially catch up on if you would like, and there’s a lot of good stuff out there.

And there’s a lot of good stuff that’s made every year. I know it’s not the same to have a Gen Q that we have watch parties and everyone is talking about the same characters and all that, but there will continue to be great independent queer movies made every year. Television is tough because there’s a lot of moving parts to get TV made, but there will be movies that are made that you can watch, and more now than ever, or if not… I don’t know. I guess I just wish people would focus on that sometimes.

Not that we shouldn’t be having conversations about how Hollywood is treating queer people so terribly right now and how it’s connected to the political backlash. It’s not just like, “We’re not getting Gen Q anymore,” it’s also the attitudes around queer people legislatively is also bad. So, it’s not that we shouldn’t talk about it, I just do encourage queer people, if you feel hopeless, to remember that the queer artists who have worked on these shows, and who haven’t worked on these shows but should have worked on these shows, are going to keep making stuff, because people make stuff and people are going to want to create, and they deserve bigger budgets and more opportunities and money from Showtime. But if they’re not getting it, you can still find their creations somewhere.

Riese: But I want to be able to recap a show.

Drew: No, it’s sad. I think I sometimes do what my mom does when other people are negative, she reacts in the opposite.

Riese: I do that too.

Drew: She’s a leveling system, which sometimes is really nice and sometimes is a little maddening. So, I apologize if this is maddening to any listeners who are like, “Yes, but Shane.” I get it. But did Gen Q even have Shane the character? Let’s be honest with ourselves.

Riese: No. She was inconsistent.

Drew: Does Kate Moennig even think that Gen Q had the character of Shane on it? Because I’m getting no vibes from her Instagram.

Analyssa: Demonstrably not.

Riese: There’s going to be a reckoning also, because I think that the networks that are building these libraries of content, those libraries are a lot less attractive when they’re only one season long. This cancellation spree, at some point they’re going to have to sit down and be like, “Wait a second. What are we doing here? We’re not building…” You can join Netflix and you can watch, I don’t know, 200 episodes of Orange Is New Black or something, or a hundred. But are you going to get invested in First Kill, which has eight episodes, I think, or any of a myriad… On Hulu are you going to watch The Bisexual — you should — that has four episodes, five episodes?

Drew: Six.

Riese: Six. I think that they need multiple seasons of shows to have them. Otherwise I feel like they’re throwing away what they spent on the first one.

Analyssa: Especially because so much of, especially Netflix, anecdotally people’s watching is The Office and Friends and New Girl, things that have run forever.

Riese: These shows that went on forever, because people want things… And they don’t also want shows that ended knowingly. No one wants to be left on a cliffhanger; people want a fucking finale. You want a finale. None of these shows get finales.

Drew: If you’re going to kill Tess, show me Tess’s cold, dead body.

Riese: Show us Tess hanging off a highway overpass with blood coming out of her eyeballs, or give me death. Speaking of Tess’s fate, should we discuss what we think should really happen to all of these characters in the finale?

Analyssa: What we’re living in our heads for the rest of time with?

Riese: Well, I’d love to start out on a positive note and remember that we never got to see Angie and Bella have their love confession.

Analyssa: I forgot about them.

Riese: That is I think the next scene that I would want from Angie, would be her going to Bella’s and apologizing, and Bella being like, “But,” you know?

Drew: Yeah.

Riese: You know what I’m talking about, those scenes?

Drew: Yes. That would be really nice. I love that for those two.

Riese: And then Hendrix never publishes another word for the rest of his life and he has to work at Cold Stone Creamery.

Drew: I don’t think Cold Stone deserves him.

Riese: Actually, you’re probably right.

Drew: I hope Micah and Maribel patch things up. Maybe he’s sitting in the car, and then he takes a deep breath and he’s like, “This is absurd,” and then he goes back inside the house.

Riese: He’s like, “I only packed three T-shirts. And not even deodorant.”

Drew:
And he’s like, “Let’s talk this out.” He’s like, “Maybe we rushed into the whole baby thing. Maybe what we should actually do is just-”

Riese: See a therapist.

Drew: Yeah! “Let’s work it out, and if you do still want a baby, that can be something we can talk about.”

Analyssa: Maybe we see a doctor who can assuage a lot of these concerns first.

Riese: And talk to them about all of our fears and concerns and all of the complications, and decide what the best path forward is.

Drew: That sounds lovely.

Analyssa: I know we didn’t leave her on a sad note, so we don’t really need to give her a future, but I just feel like Sophie was on the brink of being like, “I’m actually ready to take a creative turn. I think I want to go do stuff that excites me.” Maybe that’s documentary making, as we’ve learned. I don’t know, Pippa…

Riese: Is she going to be broke?

Analyssa: Well, I think Pippa is a very wealthy artist.

Drew: I’m just saying that yes, all the queer shows are canceled, but you should seek out Sophie’s new queer documentary. You just have to get a subscription to Mubi and you can watch it.

Analyssa: Exactly.

Drew: It’s just $5.99 a month or something like that. You can watch Sophie Suarez’s new documentary. It’s eight hours long, and it’s fantastic.

Riese: Introductory subscription, 25% off. Anyone can watch it. I think that would be nice for Sophie. What I would actually predict for Sophie is that she enters into this thing with Pippa, but Pippa is very non-committal because she’s not going to commit to somebody who’s 20 years younger than her. And Sophie is kind of enamored, but Pippa doesn’t really give her the attention she desires. She thinks about doing the documentary, but freaks out and decides to stay on The Alice Show, which is also good, so that they’re all in the same set interacting, right?

Drew: Yeah.

Riese: Then of course Finley is back working at The Alice Show, and once again, Sophie finds herself back in the arms of her one true love now that they’ve both explored themselves and their experiences and Finley has dealt with whatever has happened with Tess, that then they come together in health and joy and then they have a baby.

Drew: Wow. That’s lovely.

Riese: And then they throw sperm vials at each other that cost $925.

Drew: I think that Tess wakes up from her coma, because she doesn’t die.

Riese: And it’s like, “Why am I friends with these assholes?”

Drew: I think she confronts the fact that living a stealth life has weighed on her, and made sobriety more difficult and other things more challenging. So, she decides to be more open about being a trans woman, and then she just forms this really great community of trans people and gets a trans girlfriend and just is thriving. That’s how I see her end.

Riese: I would love to see her working at a juice bar instead of an alcohol bar. Or remember those oxygen bars?

Drew: No.

Riese: No?

Drew: But I believe you.

Analyssa: You don’t remember those?

Drew: No. What’s that?

Riese: I guess you would go and get oxygen?

Analyssa: You would go and they would have little… It depends, but they would put them up your nose, like oxygen from a hospital or a little tube that you could suck in.

Drew: Was it flavored?

Analyssa: Sometimes.

Riese: Sometimes. I think so.

Analyssa: It was one of those…

Drew: Wellness?

Analyssa: Yeah. It was a booster shot like Kreation Juice. Or like how rich people get IVs brought to their homes so that they can have all their vitamins or whatever.

Drew: What if Tess realizes that what she really loves is bringing community together, so she opens up a queer, non-alcohol-centric space?

Analyssa: There are so many people online who would love that.

Drew: Like a bookstore or a coffee shop?

Riese: Yeah, a bowling alley.

Drew: Bowling alley.

Riese: Although my girlfriend doesn’t like bowling, so maybe a bookshop and coffee shop would be better for me personally. A roller rink.

Drew: Tess buys Stories in Echo Park.

Riese: Tess starts a swan boat company in Echo Park to compete with the present swan boat company, and then we get into swan boat company wars. No one has done that. That’s completely an unexplored topic on all of television.

Drew: That’s true.

Riese: No one has got into that at all.

Drew: Do we think Gigi works it out with Nat? Do we think Gigi and Nat go the distance?

Riese: Well, isn’t Nat still poly?

Drew: Yeah.

Riese: I think that now that they’re dating, and Nat of course is like, “Well, I’m poly. We should date other people.” And then Gigi is like, “I don’t really want to,” but then she goes on a date with Dani, and then yadda, yadda, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, they realize, “Let’s give a throuple a try again.”

Drew: Wow, with Dani. See, I would love if The L Word: New York was Gigi and Nat moved to New York and they live their poly lives, and it’s just a really positive representation of a queer poly relationship, but it’s still in a messy way.

Analyssa: But not in a boring way.

Drew: The two of them aren’t fighting or cheating on each other, but they’re fighting and cheating on their various other romantic partners, but then they always come back to each other to process. That could be really fun.

Riese: Maybe they could live near Bette and Tina, so they see them in the grocery store, and Bette and Tina are like, “Ugh,” because those are our poly friends.

Drew: That would be a very funny cameo.

Riese: They all have children, so they’d all be in Park Slope with their little strollers. Well, I guess their children aren’t in strollers anymore, but you can put a kid in a stroller if you want to. It’s legal. I went to Disneyland recently and I saw a lot of them, so I think that sounds good for them.

Drew: I do think Gigi is too interesting to be with Nat, but sometimes I forget what The L Word always reminds me that sometimes really interesting people like to have boring partners because that’s the dynamic they like, whereas I do not understand that at all.

Riese: Well, we didn’t really get to know Nat that well.

Drew: That’s fair.

Riese: And I’m going to go on a limb here and say I don’t know how well-written any of these characters were in the end of the day.

Drew: Whoa.

Analyssa: That’s bold.

Drew: Hot take.

Analyssa: Brave. I liked Nat. I always thought she was funny.

Drew: You did like Nat.

Riese: You were a big Nat fan.

Analyssa: Well, I’m a big Stephanie Allynne fan, which is definitely inherited from an ex of mine, but I just think she’s so funny and charming.

Riese: She is really funny.

Drew: Speaking of shows that got canceled, if you haven’t watched One Mississippi, that’s still an Amazon. You can watch it.

Riese: That’s such a good show.

Drew: That’s one of the best shows to ever be made. It’s so good.

Riese: It’s brilliant. It’s so good. Two seasons. I don’t usually write entire posts about a show getting canceled, but I sure did for One Mississippi.

Drew: I remember that.

Riese: I said, “They canceled One Mississippi. I’m going to set my television on fire.” I think they canceled I Love Dick the same day or something.

Analyssa: Yeah, I think it was a big—

Riese: I was like, “Excuse me.”

Drew: Which again there’s always these moments where it feels like all hope is lost. And in fact—

Analyssa: And then sometimes you get an L Word: Generation Q.

Drew: I think what’s crazy is that right after Bette and Tina’s wedding, Tina died. That’s just so sad and brutal for that couple, that they finally get married and seem to be doing okay, and then Tina gets hit—

Riese: Maybe Tess and Denver railed into the little golf cart that Bette and Tina were driving off in.

Drew: And Tina died.

Analyssa: I can’t believe we’re just never going to know what happened to Tess. So mad.

Drew: It’s so brutal.

Riese: I know, that’s so annoying.

Analyssa: Why end it on that note when you know that you might not come back?

Drew: It is one of the most unforgivable sins.

Analyssa: When the odds are stacked against you, why would you make the cliffhanger she might die in a car accident because she’s not sober and neither is the person driving? Why couldn’t it be the cliffhanger is like, “Will Dani choose Roxy or Dre?”

Riese: You still have the trans person unhappy at the end of the episode, even in that one.

Analyssa: Sure. Will Angie go find Bella? There are so many other-

Drew: Angie could have run after Bella, and Bella’s on a date with some other, I don’t know. There are so many fun things that could have happened.

Riese: I wanted Bella to walk in.

Drew: That could have been even more fun. They kiss.

Analyssa: I really thought Bella was going to be Angie’s date to the wedding. I thought it was going to be a whole thing that was like, “I was going to bring Hendrix, but of course now we’re broken up, and also my moms hate him, so I couldn’t. Thanks for coming last minute.” And then Bella is like-

Riese: “How is my friend?”

Analyssa: Yeah, and Bella’s like, “Well, I always wanted to be your date to the wedding. Here’s why.”

Riese: I love the moment where they’re at the party and they turn around and they see that person standing there in their attire. Although I guess that exact thing happened with Dre, but it was not at the right moment.

Drew: Poor Dre.

Riese: You know what I mean?

Analyssa: Right.

Riese: Poor Dre.

Analyssa: Poor Dre.

Riese: Oh my God. I reread my recap just to refresh my memory of what happened. And Dre, they looked so cute in their suit. Oh my God, it broke my heart all over again for this fictional character. But anyway, that love triangle I’m sure would be messy.

Drew: And hot.

Riese: And hot also.

Drew: Because of what happens to Micah and what happens to Tess, I was not happy with how it ended with Dre. But as far as leaving trans characters or trans actors in a bad spot, at least that is fairly low-stakes.

Analyssa: That’s gay hookup show drama; that just happens in the natural course of things. The things that felt horrible-

Riese: Cruel?

Analyssa: Yeah, were like the cruel, “Oh, cool. We’re near murder-”

Riese: With Tess and with Micah.

Analyssa: “…and we’re near breakup for no reason.” It just felt bad. Who’s left?

Riese: Alice. Alice and Tasha back together.

Analyssa: Alice and Tasha I feel like live happily ever after. I do think The Alice Show gets canceled pretty brutally coming up soon, so that’s something we have to deal with. I bet Alice doesn’t-

Riese: If The L Word: Gen Q didn’t get canceled then The Alice Show would have.

Analyssa: Exactly. I think Alice would go on a podcast revenge tour trying to be like, I don’t know, “I can be famous without them,” but she ends up just being embarrassed about stuff she says. I don’t know, she’s so goofy.

Riese: I would love her to learn something from Tasha instead of just, you know?

Drew: I was going a different route. She has a standup special called Silenced.

Analyssa: Maybe she tries to do a standup special or a podcast tour or something. She tries to go scorched earth and Tasha’s like, “What if it’s nice that you don’t host the show? It makes you kind of unfun.”

Riese: “Why don’t you just start a home decor line?”

Drew: I would watch a Hacks-esque show-

Analyssa: Ooh.

Drew: …about Alice as the Jean Smart character and a young, let’s make it someone with a lot of marginalized identities, that Alice can just be terrible about. Let’s do that show.

Riese: I would love to eventually though see Alice evolve and change and grow.

Drew: Well, that would happen throughout the course of my spinoff show about the trans woman who’s stuck taking care of Alice’s ego.

Analyssa: She’s her assistant post-Alice Show cancellation, so it’s really just Alice management. There’s not a lot else going on.

Riese: I love that idea. That’s perfect.

Drew: Let’s see.

Riese: Shane.

Drew: Oh, God. I hope Shane just figures out being non-monogamous, opens up a salon.

Analyssa: You and Kate Moennig both.

Riese: Gets back into hair, maybe Ivy comes back in town.

Analyssa: I forgot.

Drew: Wait, Ivy has a kid, right?

Riese: Yeah.

Drew: So, Shane finally gets her family and is a surrogate parent to Ivy’s kid, and Shane continues to learn and grow up, but also goes off and has sexcapades and it’s sometimes with Ivy, sometimes not with Ivy. Great stuff.

Riese: They did retcon that and have Shane suddenly be totally against having kids when Quiara wanted to have kids, even though she wanted to have kids when she was younger and she lost Shay. But I think we could retcon it back.

Drew: This is our show.

Riese: This is our show, so Shane’s getting the family that she’s always dreamed of with Ivy and her tank tops. Bette and Tina. We’ve already… Bette and Tina moved to Toronto and rented a condo.

Drew: And Tina died.

Riese: Okay, in Drew’s ending Tina dies. I don’t want anyone to die.

Drew: I don’t want anyone to die either, but sometimes it happens.

Riese: I don’t want anyone to ever die.

Drew: I know, it’s brutal.

Riese: Except Donald Trump.

Drew: But it was so sudden. It was really brutal.

Analyssa: Who’s left? Carrie and Misty?

Drew: Aw.

Riese: They’re cute. They remain Finley’s parents, and eventually grandparents to Finley and Sophie’s children.

Drew: Carrie gets some queer friends who are also fat and learns that she doesn’t have to-

Analyssa: Carrie starts hanging out in different circles than the ones that she’s been forced to hang out in.

Riese: Maybe she makes more bowling friends.

Analyssa: I was just about to say, I feel like the bowling league is a great place to start for that. Now that she’s dating Misty, she hasn’t ruined the bowling league, so she can go back to the bowling league. I feel like that’s a great place to make new friends of all different ages, sizes, professions, class, all sorts of different stuff that she’s not been… at Bowl-a-rama.

Riese: Tess’ Bowl-a-Rama.

Analyssa: And Tess owns it. Exactly.

Drew: Oh, the show writes itself.

Riese: I did ask AI to tell me what would happen to Shane, and they said that she would keep working on her sobriety. And I asked what would happen to Tess, and they said that her and Gigi have a really strong connection and that they will keep building that connection. I thought, “Interesting. I wonder where you’re getting this from.” Anyway, I did provide feedback on both answers to correct their factual errors, so that-

Drew: Don’t teach the robot!

Riese: …hopefully it can become a better AI. Well, listen-

Analyssa: What did you feed into the AI?

Riese: I said, “What will happen next for Tess on The L Word: Generation Q?”

Analyssa: I see.

Riese: It gave me a lot of answers, but those were the ones that were funniest, because they were the incorrect ones. The other ones are pretty generic, you know?

Analyssa: Sure.

Riese: She could get into LGBT community and building blah, blah, blah, working on herself or pursue meditation.

Drew: Fun fact. Marja’s initial pitch was also crafted by just typing words into an AI chat generator. People don’t know that. It’s a little industry insider fun fact.

Riese:
That is very insidery.

Analyssa: Drew, when you said the show writes itself, I was like, “Well, and haven’t we heard that before?”

Riese: Anyway, is there anyone left?

Drew: Tom? What’s Tom up to?

Riese: Oh, Tom. I think he’s going to live happily ever after.

Analyssa: Tom is raising his baby with his new-

Riese: I just want everyone to be happy.

Drew: That’s nice. But Tom’s kid is queer, and because of Tom’s experience dating a bisexual woman, he’s able to be a much better father to a queer child.

Analyssa: Can you imagine Tom showing up with even a six-year-old being like, “My kid says he’s queer. Can someone help?” And Alice, Bette, Shane are like, “Yes. We have advice.”

Drew: Incredible.

Analyssa: Exactly. It’ll be beautiful.

Riese: In conclusion, I’m pretty bummed it was canceled even though I hated about half of it.

Analyssa: Even though it made me viscerally angry, I am pretty sad that it’s not coming back. And even though we kind of knew after a couple of months of it not getting announced, I think Riese is right, what you said at the beginning. There was still, “But maybe. Maybe it’ll come back.”

Riese: It’s a good, strong franchise, the social media-

Analyssa: I don’t know. It caused a lot of conversation I feel like, and maybe that’s just we were hearing all the people who were having the conversation.

Riese: In the conversation.

Analyssa: Maybe elsewhere, nobody knows that this show is happening, but I just feel like it was really fun to have something that was rally-aroundable and is eventized. A League of Their Own, I know a ton of people watched, but it wasn’t as like, “When is everyone watching?”

Drew: Because all the episodes were dropped at once, which was the worst decision ever. If A League of Their Own had been weekly, it would have been even more of a phenomenon, and it pisses me off so much that didn’t happen.

Analyssa: Because word of mouth is so important for queer shows especially. We talk to our friends who talk to their friends, and eventually a bar in LA is hosting a watch party, you know what I mean?

Drew: Yeah.

Analyssa: I think that’s such a fun part of the experience and makes you really feel like you’re watching with people. That’s the thing that I think I am sad about this show about queer community, also built queer community when it was airing. It offered an opportunity for that.

Riese: This franchise started this community.

Analyssa: And then continued in the comments. Every recap that Riese posts gets hundreds of comments, because people are just dying to talk about the show they just watched, and watch parties in real bars. That’s really fun. Or the Discord we did that we watched along with people was so fun. So, that is a bummer, and I will miss our friends.

Riese: I think as a franchise for some reason, for better or for worse, it brought us all together, and for some reason it’s like our weird, little community problem that we just have, that we keep returning to, but it for some reason brings everyone together. We all watch it. It’s a big enough cast that everyone can find somebody they’re into. I feel sad for the cast, because I think it was probably really cool to be able to work with each other, you know?

Analyssa: Yeah.

Riese: And I think it’s sad for us, for our website traffic. Also, for all of our listeners for To L and Back who enjoyed listening to us talk about the show for better and for worse throughout our time. But maybe we’ll find something else to talk about.

Drew: Maybe we’ll see you in New York.

Riese: Or maybe we’ll see you in New York.

Analyssa: Now that I have my windpipe fixed, I’m ready to podcast about truly anything. Can talk for ages.

Riese: Yeah, we could talk about a different TV show, or we could talk about movies. Drew never talks about movies.

Analyssa: We can never get Drew to talk about movies, so that would be a really good opportunity.

Drew: Fine, fine, I’ll talk about movies. It would be fun in what I was talking about as far as there are so many queer movies that come out each year that deserve deep dives. I would… Monthly movie club, To L and Back monthly Movie Club.

Analyssa: Movie club.

Drew: I would love that.

Riese: That’d be fun.

Drew: Weekly is tough, but once a month we pick a movie that came out in the last three months that’s queer. Be super cool.

Riese: That would be fun. I always wanted to do a podcast that was a deep dive on the history and the culture around different shows that had queer characters in them at the time, and talking about what they mean today. But that’s one of those things that I think about when I think about, I don’t know, writing a TV show or building a treehouse.

Analyssa: Owning a home?

Riese: Or owning something that’s worth more than $50. So, it’s in the fantasy space at this time.

Analyssa: But it’s nice to have a dream column.

Drew: When you sell Autostraddle to Tess, who realizes that the best place to create community is online, then you can-

Riese: Then she’ll fund my dream podcast, my dreamcast.

Drew: I don’t know how Tess became a millionaire, but all of a sudden Tess became a millionaire in my fantasy.

Riese: I think the insurance settlement, because the other man died in the car crash and they thought that he was her husband, and so she got all of his money, because he was rich from modeling for Abercrombie & Fitch. That was just the vibe I got from him, even though he was a cater waiter.

Analyssa: He was just doing that for fun to try to connect with people, you know?

Riese: Yeah, and to deliver his product.

Analyssa: He was trying to make a switch into acting and dealing, so he’s like, “I’m going to connect with real people for a while to emote.”

Drew: Well, this was fun. RIP Tina Kennard.

Riese: RIP L Word: Gen Q. Thanks for all the memories and all the fun times we had.

Lauren Klein: Thank you so much for listening to this episode of To L and Back: Generation Q Edition, one of two podcasts brought to you by Autostraddle.com. You can follow us on Instagram and Twitter at ToLandBack, and you can also email us at ToLandBackcast@gmail.com. Our theme song is by the talented Be Steadwell, and our Gen Q logo is by JaxCo. This episode was produced, edited, and mixed by me, Lauren Klein. You can find me on Instagram at laurentaylorklein. You can follow Drew everywhere at Draw_Gregory. You can follow Analyssa on Instagram at analocaa with two A’s, and on Twitter at analoca_ with one A and an underscore. You can follow the legendary Riese Bernard Everywhere at Autowin. Autostraddle is @Autostraddle, and of course, the reason why we’re all here, Autostraddle.com.

Analyssa: This is where the song “Graduation” by Vitamin C would play.

Riese: That would be ideal if we could queue that up. Are we going to do Q words?

Drew: Oh.

Analyssa: Wow. Well, you just said “queue that up.”

Drew: You did say “queue that up,” so maybe you finally broke. The reason there’s no more Gen Q is because you finally didn’t say “quincemeat,” you said “Q.”

Riese: I was hoping to get to say “quincemeat” one more time in the podcast.

Analyssa: Let’s do Q words.

Drew: Ready?

Riese: Uh-huh.

Drew: 3, 2, 1, quincemeat.

Analyssa: Quincemeat.

Riese: Quincemeat. Everyone said “quincemeat.” You guys.

Analyssa: So true, Riese.

Riese: I love you. Wow, what a great show.

Analyssa: The final quincemeat.

Riese: Carol is so excited.

Analyssa: If you get to write the Christmas special that inevitably ends the whole Gen Q thing, do you think you’ll just title it Quincemeat?

Riese: Yes. I’ll be like, “Christmas with Quincemeat: An L-Word-”

Analyssa: Yeah, if it’s a Christmas special. If it’s a Christmas episode.

Riese: “… Back to LA.”

Analyssa: A quincemeat truffle or whatever. I don’t know, we’re already making shit up.

Riese: They’re going to have it at an Airbnb in Palm Springs maybe, or maybe Joshua Tree. It’s hard to decide. I have so many creative options available to me on this project I haven’t been commissioned to produce, but again, would love to.

Mo’Nique Grapples With Her Queer Desires, Fear, and Coming Out In New Netflix Special

It happens in the last minutes of her special, My Name Is Mo’Nique. The 55 minute mark out of an hour and 12 minutes, to be exact. At the end of a raunchy tale that involves blowjobs, the misinformation that elders tell children in the name of purity culture, and being held in a hospital on a 5150 for 72 hours (don’t ask), there’s a punchline. Mo’Nique’s Uncle Tina walks past the family kitchen and declares: “That’s why I’m a dyke.”

Up to this point — in a comedy special over five years in the making, a journey that began with the Academy Award winner asking her fans to boycott Netflix on the basis of racial and gender bias after the streaming company only offered $500,000 to make her comedy hour compared to the literal millions offered to Amy Schumer, Chris Rock, and Dave Chapelle — the theme of her concert has been an explanation of all the reasons Mo’Nique has had to fight.

She means “fight” as in fight for equality, not physical blows, though she spends a bit of time self-interrogating her quickness to anger and defensiveness. It starts in 7^th grade, when Mo’Nique is sent to special education after struggles with literacy. It winds through experiences of poverty and racism growing up in Baltimore, having to relearn power dynamics in her intimate relationships as an adult, stories about Hollywood producer Lee Daniels — all pretty expected beats for anyone already familiar with icons of Black stand-up comedy or Mo’Nique’s career specifically. But it ends with Uncle Tina.

Growing up, Mo’Nique’s grandmother was a staple of joy in her life, despite any other hardship. She tells the audience, “this woman treated me like the sun did not come up till I woke up. And it didn’t go down until I went the fuck to sleep… In her eyes, I was everything.” As Mo’Nique grew up to become famous, her grandmother would stop people in the grocery store to show off her granddaughter on magazine covers at checkout. In Mo’s words, “I was her prize.”

But also:

“My grandmother has a daughter. But we call her daughter Uncle Tina… My Uncle Tina, if she walked in here right now, you would think you were looking at a whole man. She has a full beard. She wears something to smash her breasts down. She puts something in her pants to make it look like she could possibly have a dick. And she wears men’s clothes and men’s shoes. Everything about my Uncle Tina is a man. So for you babies in the LGBTQ community, I want y’all to hear me. I respect every-motherfuckin’-body in here free enough to be their goddamn selves.

…

See, my grandmother could not come to grips that she had a gay daughter. She could only love her privately. She couldn’t love her publicly. Because the Church had my grandmother fucked up. That goddamn Church, baby, in our communities will do some shit to us and rip apart motherfuckin’ families, just like it’s going out of goddamn style. And they’ll put “In the name of Jesus” in front of it. And I watched that shit happen to my sweet grandmother.

…

And I watched those two women struggle. I watched them struggle in a way that my grandmother left this earth. And they just couldn’t come together. Because she thought she was a failure. Because she brought a gay child into the world. The church had fucked her up to believe that her daughter was a sin, right? And that’s how she treated her.

…

And I felt, I felt cowardly when my grandmother left. Because I couldn’t tell my grandmother who her granddaughter really was. ‘Cause I didn’t want to be loved privately. I adored how she adored me… So I couldn’t tell my grandmother my secret thoughts. And my fantasies. ‘Cause I didn’t want her to love me privately, and I did not want her to leave this earth thinking she was a failure. ‘Cause had I told her, my secret thoughts, she would’ve left thinking, that she failed.”

I’m purposeful in leaving an incredibly long quote here, because after 55 minutes of jokes that barrel at you in triplicate for every minute, it’s startling and breathtaking to hear the room become as quiet as a pin drop. To listen as Mo’Nique’s trademark husk breaks as she fights back tears, red rimming her eyes, before she finally lets them fall. A master conductor, the audience’s laughter her orchestra to manipulate.

Mo’Nique describes how her Uncle Tina eventually experiences alcoholism and homelessness, unable to reconcile not having her mother’s love and support. She’s shameful in her own fear to not come out while her grandmother was alive. It’s not clear in the special if she’s yet forgiven herself, but my God I hope she has or will. And — absolutely none of it — is funny.

Just as the pressure of it crushes, she pivots. The audience’s laughter hers to control once more: “Now I know y’all are looking at me, saying, ‘Wait a minute, bitch. Are you a motherfuckin’ dyke??’ No, I’m not!… all the way.”

The audience bursts, perhaps more grateful for the reprieve than anything else. “But when your born with that, there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. Nothing. And please understand that I tried.”

Mo’Nique recounts that much of her sexual explorations with men came from a running away from her queer desires, a fear that if she gave into them that she would be shunned from her family like Uncle Tina, whom Mo was close with as a child. She ends the special detailing what it was like to come out to her husband as an adult, another serious monologue that ends in jokes — some of which in full honesty, could be read as biphobic and I wish hadn’t come so quickly, but I also believe were placed to mask pain.

Mo’Nique never names her bisexuality as such directly. This is not a clear, neat, or easily cheerful celebrity coming out story. In my years working for this website, I’ve found that coming out stories about queer Black women over 50 rarely are. In fact, I spent all day wrestling with how to write about this, as the more crude jokes that sit between these serious beats are already picking up steam in Black gossip blogs.

That’s the thing about being one of the funniest women alive, you always know where to land the joke so that people will look exactly where you want them to.

And away from where you don’t.

Mae Martin on “Sap,” Camping, and Finding Queer Community

Photo by Tommaso Boddi / Stringer via Getty Images

I interviewed Mae Martin for the first time at the end of March 2020. The first season of their show Feel Good had been released as the early days of quarantine were threatening to last much, much longer.

It says a lot about how the world responded to that pandemic and the recent rise of transphobia, that three years later things feel even more challenging. But that’s why Mae’s new standup special, Sap, is such a relief. Netflix has taken a break from their regularly scheduled transphobic comics to make space for someone who is not only trans, but also really, really funny.

Mae’s comedy doesn’t avoid the seriousness of the moment but it does de-prioritize it in a way that feels important. The title of the show alludes to finding the good in a bad situation — Mae’s comedy is some of that good. They talk about gender, but they spend far more time talking about their ex and a moose.

I hope you enjoy my third chat with Mae for Autostaddle where we do not talk about their ex, but we do talk about gender and the moose.

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Mae: Hey Drew!

Drew: Hi! You’re in LA now, right?

Mae: I’m in LA! I feel like we should’ve hung out by now?

Drew: Yeah, but now I’m in Toronto.

Mae: Oh fuck! When did that happen?

Drew: I mean, I still live in LA. Sort of. I was in Toronto last summer and now I’m here for the spring. But the plan right now is July I’ll come back to LA and find a new place and then stay for a bit.

Mae: Okay cool. And is this all relationship based?

Drew: (laughs) Yeah.

Mae: (laughs) Okay, okay, okay. Well, it’s so easy to work from anywhere now.

Drew: Yeah. Are you liking LA?

Mae: I’m loving it. But there’s stigma attached to loving LA. Like what does that say about me?

Drew: No, that’s a good thing!

Mae: I’m in the honeymoon phase. The sun, the Mexican food, it’s all good.

Drew: Yeah, I mean, it’s still so cold in Toronto.

Mae: Is it?

Drew: There’s nothing more boring than being in Toronto and complaining about the weather but I’m just like it’s April, I’m ready for it to warm up.

Mae: Yeah, it’s intense.

Drew: Okay, so obviously you’re from here. And your special starts around a campfire and has a woodsy aesthetic on stage. Are you outdoorsy?

Mae: No. (laughs) Well, it’s a complicated answer, Drew. I crave nature. When I’m in it, I love it. But I’m not a good camper. I’m good for the day. Maybe having some drinks by the fire. Then I need to go into a bed and have four strong walls. But when I was a kid I went to summer camp for nine summers in a row and they were the happiest times.

Drew: Oh wow! What kind of summer camp?

Mae: It was a canoe tripping camp. I went on like a twelve day canoe trip where you’re just camping and carrying your canoe on your back sometimes and canoeing all through the Canadian lakes.

Drew: Woah.

Mae: I was a real camp kid.

Drew: I do think as a kid I was better at being crusty than I am now.

Mae: Oh totally. Now I’ve got to wash my face twice a day. I need my products.

Drew: As a kid, did you ever see a moose?

Mae: I did! On those canoe trips I saw a bear and a moose and a lot of beavers. Insert joke there. But moose are fucking massive. They’re huge.

Drew: That’s still on my Canadian to-do list. I would like to see a moose. Obviously not too close. But I’d like to see one at some point.

Mae: They’re really majestic. But moose are kind of like the hippos of the land. They’re aggressive. They run really fast.

Drew: Speaking of moose, how do you construct your standup material? What’s your writing process like for standup?

Mae: It’s always evolving. It depends what I’ve been doing that year. In the past, for instance, I was working on a radio series and some of the writing for that turned into standup. This time a lot of it was from improv.

I finished Feel Good and was really craving light silliness and something slightly less gruelingly personal. So I went on tour doing an improv show, improvised standup, improvising with friends, and then a lot of stuff came out of that. I think this has a lighter feel to it. You can tell I’m having fun.

Drew: Yeah definitely. When approaching the special, what kinds of conversations did you have with director Abbi Jacobson?

Mae: Well, the first thing was just whether she wanted to do it. (laughs)

Drew: (laughs) Sure.

Mae: Then she came to a bunch of previews I did in LA and gave notes on bits that weren’t working. I’d been touring the show for awhile and had gotten a little complacent with it. There was stuff that wasn’t working that I was still doing. It needed a shakeup. I think we reordered some bits.

And on the night, we discussed things like camera positions and worked together designing the forest stage. And with those bookending scenes by the fire, Abbi’s just a great director. We have a really similar taste. And I love that she’s not a standup, so she’s coming at it from more of a storytelling angle.

Drew: That’s interesting.

So I almost decided to do a bit where I didn’t ask you a single question about transness.

Mae: (laughs) That would’ve been a great bit.

Drew: I was like I’m really tired of thinking about it and talking about it, I’m sure Mae is really tired of thinking about it and talking about it. I’m not going to stick to that bit, I’m really sorry, but I will at least keep things a bit meta. So first I want to know, how have the pressures of discussing transness changed since doing press for Feel Good?

Mae: Oh I’d say they’ve amped up tenfold. First of all, I’m further along in that journey. I feel more solidly part of that community. So I feel more qualified to have thoughts about it. But it’s also because of all the legislation and hysteria around it. I’m sure this won’t be the case with Autostraddle, but it’s just been the pull quote of every interview. ¹

So then it looks like I’m obsessed. I mean, I expected it a bit because of the content in the show. But I just keep waving the banner of like it’s just one part of the show and I say pretty much everything I want to say about it in the show.

Drew: Look, I know from talking with you before, and from Feel Good, and you even see it in the special, there’s a begrudging acknowledgment that everyone is waiting for you to talk about this thing.

Mae: Yeah and I’m always interrogating where that reluctance is coming from. But I think it’s mostly because it gets taken out of context. And because I have so much more I want to say. Plus the fear of being pigeon-holed. But like I say in the show, it feels important. And I do appreciate the platform to talk about it.

Drew: One of my favorite storylines in Feel Good is when fictional Mae is trying to decide whether to call out the abusive comic. I think so much of being in the industry is navigating when to speak up and when to just ignore things. And I would imagine it’s similar with comics who aren’t necessarily abusive — well, maybe they’re also abusive —but who are just constantly talking about transness. Trying to decide when to wade into it and point out that what they’re saying is wrong and when to just be like this has nothing to do with me.

Mae: Totally. It’s a lot to navigate. And I liked that storyline, too. It was interesting to me how little press focused on that storyline even though it was a pulsing thread throughout the series. But there was one scene where I talked about being nonbinary and that was the main takeaway.

Drew: (laughs) Of course. In all the years you’ve been doing comedy, was there ever a time where you questioned if there was space for you in the standup world?

Mae: Well, I had no backup plan or other qualifications. So I kind of had to make it work. (laughs) But I always had such amazing comics around me and such an amazing community. It brings me so much joy. I would never have given it up. I’m lucky. I’m sure some people have worse experiences than me and then don’t continue. But I was always able to surround myself with good people and I just love it too much to stop.

Drew: Speaking of, what comics are you loving right now? Who are you really excited to watch and perform with?

Mae: So many! It’s been really nice living in LA and getting to perform with so many people. I do a monthly show at Largo and that venue is amazing. It’s a real hub. I’ve gotten to meet some of my idols. I’ve been performing with Brett Goldstein a lot. And then like Tig Notaro, Sarah Silverman, Fortune Feimster, Zach Galifiknakis. I’ve been doing a lot of improv with Stephanie Allyne and Alana Johnson. Also John Early and Kate Berlant. Meg Stalter. Jes Tom. Who else…

Drew: I’m going to interrupt you because you’re naming all of our faves. But is there anyone queer or trans who is maybe less famous that our readers should know?

Mae: I’m not on the circuit the way I used to be, but definitely Jes Tom, Nori Reed, and Sydnee Washington.

Drew: They’re great!

There’s a moment in the special where you talk about being asked as a kid to pick which Spice Girl you identify with. It made me realize that’s kind of where a lot of conversations around gender have evolved to. Like it’s no longer two options, but it’s still only five options. And that’s the challenge when words and labels change but our cultural attitudes around gender don’t. Like great, we don’t have to just pick between Baby and Sporty. We can be Scary or Posh or Ginger. But what if [we want to be a] sixth Spice Girl or no Spice Girls or multiple Spice Girls.

Mae: Yeah it’s the same old story of labels being important in terms of fighting for legal rights, but being so inadequate in terms of expressing nuances of existing. And as soon as you choose a label it ends up inflating that part of your identity above other parts that are just as important. I hope one day we… I really thought… You know, I think I was slightly naive. And now I’m like it might take a hundred years for this system to be deconstructed.

Drew: I know, I was also feeling pretty good for a while there.

Mae: Yeah. (laughs)

Drew: Okay, but since owning your trans identity and feeling more settled in that part of yourself, do you have more people in your life that are also trans? Because in my experience that is one good thing about labels.

Mae: Yeah, definitely since moving to LA. In London, I had so many amazing friends, but I was very much just in the comedy community. I definitely feel more of queer community here in LA and have more nonbinary and trans friends. It does feel good. It feels reassuring.

Drew: That’s one thing I love about LA. I’ve found such great queer community there.

Mae: I mean, I’m sure it exists in London. Maybe I just wasn’t ready to find it yet. But it’s really nice.

Drew: How do you focus on the sap, so to speak? It’s obviously not the best time to be alive, but how are you finding the balance between staying informed and present while still focusing on the good stuff?

Mae: It’s a daily struggle, but I think scheduling in actual vacation time. Even if it’s just a day to be off my phone, not responding to emails. Be in nature or something. And just focusing on that stupid list I do at the end of the special. Things that make me feel good. I love playing the guitar and making music. I just recorded an album of like, serious music.

Drew: Oh shit!

Mae: Yeah, yeah. But I’m a real workaholic, so just taking enough time off to live a life. Otherwise, you’ve got nothing to write about. And, you know, a low dose of SSRIs and exercise. Exercise is key for me to just stay connected to the ol’ bode. It’s tough. Even though we know how to feel better. We know all these things. We just don’t do them. Everyone knows if they were on their phone less they’d be happier and more fulfilled. But it’s hard. Everything is designed to keep us distracted.

Drew: Yeah I started putting my phone outside my bedroom before like 10pm and it’s so annoying how much better I’m sleeping and how much better I feel.

Mae: Really? Okay I need to do that. I know I need to do that.

Drew: It’s so annoying. I wish it didn’t work.

Mae: I know it’s so annoying.

Drew: Okay one last thing. As far as your family debate goes with the moose, my immediate reaction was that a moose must have jumped over your parents’ car.

Mae: Ohhh interesting.

Drew: Like a big moose — but not the biggest of all time — leaped over and it felt like they just drove under it. That was my read. I don’t know what it says about me.

Mae: That’s a really interesting read. And it would explain the sound of the fur grazing the roof of the car.

Drew: This is my theory.

Mae: I’m going to bring this up to them.

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Sap is now streaming on Netflix, you can also read Autostraddle’s review about it here.

1. Author’s Note: Please look at the pull quote I chose for this piece.

I’ll Watch Anything Queer Made Before the Year 2000

I’ll Watch Anything is an Autostraddle TV Team series in which we tell you what type of movies and TV shows we’ll watch, no matter what. This week, Drew Burnett Gregory is here to explain why she’ll watch anything queer made before the year 2000.

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I do not find my obsessions — they find me.

Sometimes it’s motivated like when Kirsten Dunst got her first Oscar nomination and I decided to watch all her movies or when I saw a new production of A Raisin in the Sun then spent months with Lorraine Hansberry’s life and work. Sometimes it seems more random like when I set out to fill in my gaps in the filmography of Pedro Almodóvar, a favorite of mine since adolescence.

Regardless of the spark, the real reasons for my obsessions tend to reveal themselves later. Studying Dunst, my longtime paragon of normative femininity, as I confronted the dysphoria of a world reopening. Finding in Hansberry answers — and more questions — to my pressing concern of how to balance personal artistic practice and politics. Re-learning from Almodóvar to ignore queer respectability politics as I embarked on writing a script that might prove controversial in certain corners of the community.

This year my obsessions felt both urgent and discordant. I wanted to watch every film referenced in the main text of Kier-La Janisse’s House of Psychotic Women before reading the book itself and I wanted to watch every George Cukor movie as I read Patrick McGilligan’s biography on the famous gay director. Horror and exploitation movies largely from the 70s and 80s on the one hand, screwball comedies and melodramas from Old Hollywood on the other.

It was only upon writing this essay — almost done with my Cukor project, halfway through my House of Psychotic Women viewing — that I realized their connection to each other and to my moment in time. With Cukor, it’s to study how a queer filmmaker managed to insert his tastes and experiences into work that couldn’t be explicitly gay. With House of Psychotic Women, it’s to study the queer movies made by straight men who aimed primarily to fetishize or villainize, movies that have since been reclaimed by women viewers, queer viewers, and, my personal category, queer women viewers.

It’s a bleak time to be a queer artist, a bleak time to be a queer person. The unfinished progress of the recent decades has started to decline, especially for trans people. There are fewer queer stories being told this year than last. The stories that are being told are more palatable and, largely, worse. All the while, several states are overshadowing any complaints about media by taking steps to outlaw our existence altogether. They will not win. But they will cause harm I wake up every day to mourn.

I make sense of the present by looking at the past. History is my weighted blanket, the heaviness of centuries bringing me calm. I understand people who just want to move forward, who feel there’s enough to worry about today without dwelling on the worries of yesterday. I understand, but I do not agree. I need the reminder that there were people like me, like all of us, who found ways to survive and thrive. I need the reminder that our current problems will pass — while understanding the damage that can be done.

I get something important out of watching Cukor’s 1935 comedy flop Sylvia Scarlett starring a cross-dressing Katharine Hepburn. It’s fascinating to learn that many in Hollywood thought it gauche of Cukor to so explicitly show the queerness they merely tolerated in him. It’s fascinating to see how that shaped the rest of his career, the risks he took and didn’t take, the ways he found to insert queerness more subtly through stories of strong women and creatives tortured by polite society.

I get something quite different from watching a movie like Norman J. Warren’s 1977 alien invasion chamber drama Prey, covered in part 8 of House of Psychotic Women. This is a movie with a several minute long lesbian sex scene — that also suggests dykes are possessive, abusive, and more predatory toward sweet hetero women than aliens with red eyes and sharp teeth. It’s a movie that’s easy to call homophobic. But with nearly 50 years of distance, its charms outweigh its values. The film fails in its critique of lesbianism — the hate too campy, the sex too hot.

I will watch any movie or TV show with queer people made before the year 2000. The older the better. I love to see the work we were managing to make and I love to see the work made about us. I don’t think we’ve changed or straight people have changed as much as we like to think. And, within those changes, and lack of change, there is much to learn.

There is so much great art that has been ignored because it was queer. People have been discovering and re-discovering this work since it was first made. The box office reports for Sylvia Scarlett don’t include the anecdotes of young queers lusting over a short-haired Hepburn. The confused critical response to Prey doesn’t account for women dragged to the exploitation theatre by a horny boyfriend only to burn with desire watching lesbian sex.

These movies had value upon their releases and they have a different kind of value now. There is so much to stumble upon, to seek out. We can take lessons from this older work into our present lives and into the art we make and watch today.

Watch queer film and television from the 20th century and you’ll see a lot of bad — but the treasures, oh the treasures will be plentiful.

Showtime Removes Generation Q From Platform, Thus Deeply Wounding Our Community

Even though we complained about it all the time, we were devastated as a community to learn that iconic television conglomerate Paramount+ With Showtime had cancelled Generation Q after three seasons. This week, a second blow has been dealt to our community: they’ve also removed it from Showtime altogether. Those wishing to view it through their Showtime / Prime Video subscription will be invited to buy the series for $1.99 – $2.99 per episode. Or you could purchase the season on DVD, thus paying $3-$5 an episode.

https://twitter.com/sho_help/status/1643071870160326656

Other queer-inclusive programs missing from Showtime as of last week include Work in Progress, Masters of Sex, The First Lady and Black Monday.

In January, it was announced that the world would be permanently deprived of access to the one-season Showtime production On Becoming a God in Central Florida, which Showtime had initially renewed but then retroactively cancelled due to pandemic filming struggles. Also ditched at that time were American Gigolo, American Rust, Let the Right One In and the Jim Carrey vehicle Kidding. 

Before HBO Max began removing shows from its platform last year, I didn’t know it was a thing that could be done — a network removing a show it created from its streaming catalog. But, apparently, even without the need to renew a license or pay directly for the privilege to stream a specific program created by a third party, there’s still money to be saved by cutting a cancelled show. These cuts save the network from having to pay out residuals to the show’s principal performers, directors, unit production managers, first and second assistant directors and credited writers.

This is a new practice, put into play last year in response to profit-pressure on streaming networks, often inspired by mergers and acquisitions. It took the entire industry by surprise, as relayed to Marketplace by Hollywood journalist Matt Belloni in February: “the creative community is in a state of dumbfoundedness. I think they’re saying, ‘Wait a second, my show can just disappear?’”

It’s also alarming considering the overall rise in queer-focused series getting axed after 1-3 brief seasons. Shows with only a handful of episodes that end without an intentional finale are less appealing to binge watchers, who often wait until a show has finished its entire run to start watching, and aren’t interested in shows that end without an intentional finale. (Generation Q’s cliffhanger for Tess was particularly brutal in this regard.) I wouldn’t be surprised if we see even more short-lived series vanishing from our fave streamers due to lack of popularity. HBO Max, following the merger of Warner Media and Discovery last year, de-platformed the extremely great and very queer high school drama genera+ion, as well as 12 Dates of Christmas, a reality dating show that had a lesbian contestant in its second season. Genera+ion has since been sold to Tubi, thank G-d, but you literally cannot watch 12 Dates of Christmas anywhere, ever. A tragedy!

This is also bad news for the queer actors, writers, and directors who worked on Generation Q, who now can only earn residuals when people buy the show. Reports are mixed regarding how much writers are actually making from residuals, but in the face of strike-worthy pay conditions and shorter seasons, probably every dollar counts for the kinds of young, queer writers who were often brought in to work on Generation Q.

The original L Word remains on Showtime for your personal entertainment.

Autostraddle March Madness 2023: Trope-y Wives Champion – Maya Bishop and Carina Deluca!

We started this contest with 68 couples — a new record for Autostraddle March Madness — and then our A+ members stepped in and narrowed the field to 64. Then, we opened the voting up to our entire readership and, now, after six rounds of voting, we have our champion: congratulations to Maya Bishop and Carina DeLuca of Station 19, our favorite set of Trope-Y Wives. Or maybe we should officially dub them “Trophy Wives” because it’s the second year in a row that the Station 19 ship has taken home our March Madness crown.

Every year, I build our competition about a theme and, this year, it was built around the tropes that have been the bedrock of some of our favorite stories. What pushed these two characters together? What made them enchanting to watch? What made you want to cheer for them, as a viewer? This year’s four regions — Forbidden Fruit, Enemies to Lovers, Opposites Attract and Friendship to Lovers — are really the foundation upon which so many queer ships are built. But even if these couples all start from a similar place, what sprouts up can be radically different but equally beautiful.

That is, if they’re given time. Because, that’s the advantage that Maya and Carina have in this contest, right? We’ve had time to see them grow as people, to grow together…to fall in love and to break each other’s hearts and to put them back together again. When Maya meets Carina at Joe’s, we know who Maya Bishop is. She puts her ambition ahead of everything else: ahead of her friendship with Andy, stealing the promotion that should’ve rightly been hers, and ahead of her relationship with Jack, abandoning him when he seemed like more of an impediment than an asset. The abuse she suffered as a child — though she only realizes its impact later — still drives her as an adult.

But Carina’s love changes her. It makes her see the world with new eyes. It makes her want to be better. So on the day where Carina needs her more than ever — when her brother’s in surgery after being stabbed — Maya’s there. Even though she’s the Captain and there’s an inspection that day. Even though there’s a four-alarm fire that’s sparked downtown. She’s there, steadying Carina’s shaking hands, as she tries to light a candle, listening as Carina talks about her bond with her brother, and celebrating with Carina when her brother pulls through the initial surgery.

Likewise, when we first meet Carina on Grey’s Anatomy, she’s non-committal. She has a relationship — with Arizona, with Owen — that it lasts until it exhausts its usefulness and then she moves on. She’s not looking for forever when she sits down next to Maya at Joe’s Bar, she’s just looking for right now. But slowly, she starts to shift and invests in her relationship with Maya despite her own misgivings…until one day, Carina ends up in front of Grey-Sloan, just before she’s slated to board a trip back to Italy, and she proposes to Maya.

“Marry me,” she pleads. “I know I’m a stubborn idiot and I don’t want to get married just because the government says we have to, and I still think marriage was invented to keep women as property, but I’d much rather do something that I don’t want to than lose you.”

And yes, it helps that these two actresses are beautiful and have electric, unparalled chemistry together…but it comes down to time. They’re on a show that hasn’t been forced to squash their romantic arc into one season. Every couple in this contest resonates with someone but we grow more connected with these characters the more time we spend with them and Station 19 has afforded that time to Maya and Carina. And so, of course, the fandom grows — and of course it wins contests like this — because fans are willing to invest in characters when those shows are willing to invest in those characters too. I wish other shows, networks and/or streaming services would take the lesson.

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For the third year in a row, we incorporated a bracket challenge into this year’s March Madness. It was intended to be a way to integrate one of my favorite aspects of the NCAA tournament into our own competition but, honestly, it’s turned into a great way to rebuild my self-esteem when my NCAA bracket goes bust. I finished in the top ten again this year but finished just slightly behind my performance from last year. And, because of the best things about being in a bracket competition is competing with your friends, I’ll note that I came in first place among our TV Team…just barely edging out Carmen’s picks. It’s a small bit of consolation because in every other fantasy sports competition we participate in together — WNBA Fantasy, NCAA brackets, etc. — I end up finishing in second place just behind Heather. Finally, some vindication!

So, how did y’all do? Let’s check out our final leaderboard:

Despite having won last year’s competition, Maya and Carina were not favored to repeat: only two people — including “slay station 19,” our bracket competition winner — selected #Marina to win this year’s edition of March Madness. More people were convinced that Generation Q‘s Bette and Tina or A League of Their Own‘s Greta and Carson would come out on top. But it wasn’t just “slay station 19″‘s correct championship pick that won them this contest: our top two finishers were the only people in the entire competition who had both Maya and Carina and Emily and Sue among their Final Four and had Maya and Carina advancing to the championship round. Those decisions turned out to be the difference.

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Before we bring Autostraddle March Madness 2023 to a close, a word of thanks:

Five years ago, I was just a few months into my tenure as a writer here when I pitched this idea to the editors. I knew it could work — Heather had shown me that it could work — but it was a big swing. It required an investment of both time and resources to make come to fruition. And, perhaps most of all: it required a lot of faith from the editors that I hadn’t really earned yet. But, by some miracle, they saw the vision and gave me a lot of latitude to bring it to reality…and now, we’ve five years into this thing we call Autostraddle March Madness.

It’s been so fun. Every year, we’re finding new ways to make the contest better — from adding international shows to the bracket challenge to expanding the field to creating eye-catching graphics — and this year, to make the contest fairer. Each and every year, it continues to be a big swing and each and every year, you make it worthwhile.

But this year, in particular, you really stepped up: both by participating in this contest in unprecedented numbers and by supporting the fundraiser to keep Autostraddle alive. Your support means that we can do this. Your support means I can afford to spend hours tracking down 68 participants for this contest and writing about all of them. It means that Viv can create some snazzy graphics and that our tech team can create a system less suspectible to spam voting. It means that Heather steps in whenever I faulter and do whatever needs to be done. It means that Carmen can oversee it all and keep us focused on the vision. It’s truly a team effort. It’s a big swing…and the big swings aren’t possible without you…so, thank you.

Let’s do this again next year, shall we? That is, unless I can figure out a way to turn the Women’s World Cup into pre-text for another fandom competition.

April 2023: What’s New, Gay and Streaming on Netflix, Showtime, HBO Max, Hulu, Prime Video, Disney+, Roku and Paramount+

It’s time for April showers but after you get out of that shower you need to get into this guide to all the television you could be enjoying on your sofa or preferred place to sit! We’ve looked deeply into this and have come to you with a plethora of television shows and movies with lesbian, bisexual, queer and trans characters streaming on Netflix, Hulu, Prime Video, HBO Max, Paramount+, Disney+, Roku and Showtime.

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New and Gay and/or Lesbian on Netflix in April 2023

Beef (Season One) – April 6

This series from A24 “follows the aftermath of a road rage incident between two strangers. Danny Cho (Steven Yeun), a failing contractor with a chip on his shoulder, goes head-to-head with Amy Lau (Ali Wong), a self-made entrepreneur with a picturesque life. The increasing stakes of their feud unravel their lives and relationships in this darkly comedic and deeply moving series.” Queer actress Maria Bello plays queer billionaire character Jordan.

All-American: Homecoming (Season 2) – April 11

When Simone Hicks leaves her family and friends behind in Los Angeles, she finds a chosen family at Bringston University in Atlanta. While Simone tries to balance freshman year with collegiate athletics and the realities of life at an HBCU, she leans on Nate — a non-binary, gender non-comforming diva who offers to share her space — and Keisha, a bisexual, aspiring dancer turned med student with commitment issues (natch). (Thanks to Natalie for writing this blurb for me!)

Miriam Margolyes: Almost Australian (Season 1) – April 11

Legendary British lesbian actress Miriam Margolyes has just become an official citizen of Australia, and she has a lot of questions about what this means for her! In this series she will FIND OUT.

Welcome to Eden (Season 2) – April 21

This Spanish-language series returns to the rebellion that’d been sparked on Eden. There were a few queer and trans characters in the first season, including trans DJ Mayaka, lesbian Bel and the lead character, Zoa, who’s bisexual.

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Prime Video’s LGBTQ+ Stuff For April 2023

Bros (2022) – April 4

This major studio gay rom-com that got so much press about people not going to see it that nobody ended up going to see it is focused on the love story between two white cis gay men, but has “a queer world that is predominantly trans and POC — even if the white cis gay men are the only ones with real characters.”

The Marvelous Mrs Maisel: Season Five Premiere – April 14

It’s the final season of one of Prime Video’s flagship properties, promising to give Midge a grand send-off complete with numerous flash-forwards and a final season story that finds her working as a writer for a late-night show while her dapper lesbian manager Susie toils away to improve her career and everybody wears cute period outfits!

Dead Ringers (Season One) – April 21

This absolutely bananas gender-swapped re-imagining of David Cronenberg’s psychosexual horror cult classic Dead Ringers (1988) stars Rachel Weisz as twins Elliot and Beverly Mantle, obstetricians who have big ideas for revolutionizing women’s health. Beverly is a lesbian and she begins dating Genevive, an actress on a popular TV show, early in the story, which makes Elliot very mad. Like the original film, the series promises “co-dependent twin doctors at the top of their professions who start to unravel under the weight of their obsession with each other and their career pursuits.” You can also look forward to a lot of blood and realistic depictions of childbirth!

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Queer HBO Max Shows & Movies Streaming April 2023

Walker: Independence (Season One) – April 1

This CW Western series is set in the late 1800s and follows an affluent East Coaster whose husband is murdered while they’re journeying out West together. She eventually lands in Independence, Texas, with her new  companion, loveable rogue Hoyt. Queer non-binary actor Katie Findlay plays eccentric burlesque dancer Kate Carver. According to Looper, “with the blessing of producer and showrunner Seamus Fahey, Katie infused their own queerness into Kate, giving us a glimpse at what life was like for the queer community in the 1800s.”

Tangerine (2015) – January 1

Shot entirely on an iPhone, this iconic film follows two trans sex workers, Sin-Dee and Alexandra, on Christmas Eve, as just-out-of-jail Sin-Dee tracks down the pimp/boyfriend who’s been cheating on her and Alexandra’s on a journey towards her singing performance that evening.

The Winchesters (Season One) – April 6

The first season of The CW’s Supernatural spinoff is set in the 1970s, telling the story of how John Winchester and Mary Campbell fell in love and fought monsters together while looking for their missing fathers. The characters include Mary’s friend Carlos Cervantez, who is bisexual and non-binary, and DJ Rockin’ Roxy (Bridget Reagan), who is queer.

A Black Lady Sketch Show: Season Four Premiere – April 14

Our favorite sketch show returns for its 4th season. Sadly, queer writer/performer Ashley Nicole Black isn’t returning for the fourth season because she has so many other hot jobs!  Tamara Jade (The Voice season 19), Angel Laketa Moore (Atypical) and DaMya Gurley will be joining Robin Thede, Sky Townsend and Gabrielle Dennis as featured players.

#BringBackAlice: Season One Premiere – April 14

A year after her shocking disappearance, popular influencer Alicja Stec is finally found — with no memory of what happened to her. But then it turns out that another teenager disappeared without a trace on the same day as Alicja, and her brother’s certain Alicja is the key to finding her. There’s a brief moment in the trailer where Alicja is kissing a girl, but also I cannot find a trailer in English or subtitles so!

Somebody Somewhere: Season Two Premiere – April 23

After slowly building a cult following throughout its first season, Bridget Everett’s Somebody Somewhere returns with more of that portrayal of small-town Midwestern queer life for which it has been so very praised. In Season Two, Sam’s working to move beyond her grief, deepening her friendship with Joel, building a new connection to her other sister and working with a new singing teacher.

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Hulu’s April 2023 Shows for Girls, Gays and Theys

Tiny Beautiful Things (Limited Series) – April 7

Kathryn Hahn plays Claire, the advice columnist behind Dear Sugar, in this adaptation of Cheryl Strayed’s bestselling book that finds Claire’s entire life falling apart just as she’s hired to help people work through the pieces of their own. Tanzyn Crawford plays Rae, her biracial queer teenage daughter, described like so: “uncomfortable in her own skin and often emotionally torn between her parents, Rae shows artistic leanings, though she’s an introvert of few words, just starting to develop her own opinions and making sense of who she is in the world.” Also, Desiree Akhavan is amongst the directors on this project that was created and written by queer producer Liz Tigelaar, who also was showrunner for my beloved Little Fires Everywhere.

Single Drunk Female: Season Two Premiere (Freeform) – April 13

One of the only shows to portray sobriety and recovery in a way that is not actively harmful is back! The protagonist is queer, but appears to be just dating men this season. But her sponsor (played by Rebecca Henderson0 remains a lesbian, and trans actor Jojo Brown plays Mindy, her “delightfully acerbic sobriety sister and manager at the grocery store.”

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Paramount+‘s Gay Stuff For April 2023

Broad City (Seasons 1-5) – April 5th

The legendary Abbi and Ilana, who are both pretty queer, are landing in their entirety upon Paramount+, which is nice for us, what a treat!

Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies: Season One Premiere – April 6

Set in 1954, four years prior to the official Grease movie timeline, four “fed-up and misfit students band together to bring out the moral panic that will change Rydell High forever and become the founding mothers of the first high school clique known as the Pink Ladies.”  There is definitely some sapphic kissing in the trailer, and non-binary actor Ari Notartomaso plays gender non-conforming character Cynthia who, in the trailer, is seen as one of the T-Birds, one of the Pink Ladies, and also in a scene where she’s about to kiss a girl wearing a gay hat.

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Showtime Queer April 2023 Streaming Content

Couple’s Therapy: Season 3B – April 28

Queen Mother Dr. Orna Guralnik returns for the second half of the third season of Couple’s Therapy, where she’ll be working with four new couples “wrestling with the confines of long-term relationships” and challenging heteronormative structures of what a successful relationship looks like. Amongst them are Nadine and Christine, a couple desperately trying to adjust to one partner’s desire to transition into polyamory.

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The Roku Channel’s Bisexual Content for April 2023

Slip: Season One – April 21

Mae (Zoe Lister-Jones) feels dull in her relationship, cheats on her partner, and wakes up the next day in an entirely new life where nobody remembers the reality she lived in before. The life-hopping continues, each jump inspired by Mae having an orgasm. And of course, Mae dates a lot throughout this journey into alternate universes — men and women both! Shelli saw Slip at SXSW and said “It’s clever as hell, gets pretty damn queer, and the way she has to “activate” her time travel is hilarious.”

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Disney+ LGBTQ+ Content for April 2023

The Owl House: Final Special Episode – April 8

We will say goodbye to this beloved queer-inclusive animated series with this final episode of their three-episode third season. It will follow Luz’s journey to save the boiling isles from the evil Emperor Belos & the unpredictable Collector.

Matildas: The World At Our Feet – April 26

Football Australia has partnered with Disney+ to make this six-part docuseries about the journey of their national women’s football team, the CommBank Matildas, as they prepare for the FIFA Women’s World Cup 2023. Obviously gay team captain Sam Kerr, recently named the most influential woman in Australian sport, will be central to the docuseries.

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“RuPaul’s Drag Race” Episode 1514 Recap: Alien Superstars

This is a recap of RuPaul’s Drag Race episode 1514. Spoilers below.

I love this top four! Ru had me convinced the show was doing a top three this year and while I do think the finales were in need of a shakeup, I was not pleased with that possibility. This is the best top four since the show started doing a top four finale in season eleven — they all deserve their place.

With Loosey gone, this episode is low on drama and big on feelings. Even with the specter of an elimination hanging over the queens, they spend most of this week celebrating themselves and each other.

The main challenge is a music video — with verses of course — to Ru’s song “Blame It On the Edit.” While three of the queens are writing, Luxx takes a nap. A sign of confidence, for sure, but one that will prove itself earned.

The Tic Tac lunch is back, but its origins as a fatphobic dieting joke at least go unmentioned. Sasha goes first and gives Ru exactly what he wants — talk of her saboteur and talk of trauma. She says that she’s uncomfortable with winning and her people-pleasing comes from an old wound of wanting her mom to love her. She then shares that her dad died by suicide and left everything to her which felt like a complicated sign of approval to his trans child.

Anetra’s lunch is a bit lighter — a bit — with her talking about being soft-spoken because she had to be growing up Mormon. Michelle tells Anetra that her lip sync against Marcia was Michelle’s favorite of all time. Anetra then shares that her love of ballroom comes from the internet not actually being a part of the culture — something that has led to some controversy and discussion.

Mistress was also not allowed to be outspoken as a child, but that’s why she’s so outspoken now. She calls out Loosey for being two-sided and Ru says, “We call that an undercover cunt.” I gasped. Mistress ends by saying that she just wants to make her drag family proud shouting out her drag mom Chevelle Brooks.

Luxx, a young queen with a supportive family, acts as a foil to the others. It’s clear Ru sees in Luxx the future that she wants for queer people. Luxx also talks about planning every outfit off stage as well as on — something very evident in her incredible crop top jean suit. Ru is also very excited to find out Luxx went to a high school named after Cicely Tyson.

Music video time! They’re all dressed in a sci-fi aesthetic and look amazing — especially Sasha who is referencing Barb Wire. Mistress struggles with the choreo, which is made even more difficult by the fact that they have to film immediately after learning it. Meanwhile, Luxx picks it up immediately.

While Sasha is dancing, Anetra says, “Sasha is so hot. Am I lesbian?” And while I do not have an answer for her, I do have an answer for me and that answer is yes very much so.

There’s no guest judge this week and the runway theme is Drag Excellence. Anetra is dressed as a grand empress with blue velvet dress with white tassels and pointy white hair. Luxx is in a bridal look, less slutty than usual but still gorgeous. Sasha is in a crystal dress covered in rhinestones with discs on her arms and orchids in her hair. And Mistress, with my favorite look of the night, is in a sixty pound (!) gold dress with beaded cheetah print.

The video performances are as strong as the runways. Even Mistress pulls it off by leading with confidence and having a strong verse. But amid all this excellence, Sasha Colby is easily the standout. She’s remarkable.

The critiques are mostly just gushing, followed by more emotion as the queens talk to their younger selves. Sasha calls drag the love of her life and the picture of baby Sasha in pigtails was so cute I died.

While the judges deliberate, Ru mentions that she challenged herself to have an elimination every week. I did appreciate how the season moved along, but I do think there were times double saves were in order as well as double eliminations. My ideal would be one double save and one double elimination when it’s really earned.

By this point, it was clear that the bottom would be Anetra and Mistress. And, I’m going to be honest, even though I loved Anetra from the beginning, I felt myself leaning toward Mistress.

The queens come back out and Sasha gets her fourth win of the season. Luxx is safe. And Anetra and Mistress lip sync to “When Love Takes Over” by David Guetta and Kelly Rowland. It’s not a song suited to Anetra’s acrobatics so it ends up being a very equal lip sync. And thankfully no choice has to be made.

After all that talk, both queens make it to the finale. As they should! Anetra, Mistress, and Luxx all equally deserve to lose to Sasha Colby.

Teleport Us to Mars!! Here Are Some Random Thoughts:

+ Mistress points out that she is the only queen from her half of the premiere to be in the finale.

+ Mistress also notes that, in her opinion, Malaysia didn’t look anything like her picture.

+ I’m obsessed with Luxx calling herself The Gatekeeper for being involved in all the various “gates” of drama.

+ I just finished watching every George Cukor movie and his second to last movie is a US-USSR co-production kids movie called The Blue Bird where Cicely Tyson plays a cat. She’s great, as always, but I can’t say the movie is worth a watch unless you’re on a lot of drugs.

+ During Untucked, the girls realize the first letter of their names spell SLAM. It’s cute. I would attend the SLAM Tour.

+ Next week is just a reunion episode, so there will be no recap from me. I’m very excited to watch, but there won’t be much to analyze other than summarizing whatever delicious drama we have in store.

+ Queen I’m rooting for: Sasha Colby

+ Queen I’m horniest for: Sasha Colby

+ Queen I want to marry me: Sasha Colby

20 Undead Sapphic TV Characters, Ranked by Brain Munching

One thing about sapphic TV characters is: they sure do die! But also, a lot of them are undead, like vampires and zombies and ghosts. And some of the ones who have died have been resurrected, both on-screen and by the actors who played them after their shows were over. The undead, of course, are most famous for eating brains, so today on Undeadstraddle, I thought I’d make a little list of undead sapphic TV characters, ranked by whether or not I’d let them munch on my brain. Hopefully this will finally get me recognized by the Pulitzer nominating committee.

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20. Hope Mikaelson, Legacies

I don’t think Hope actually wants to eat my brain. I think it would make her feel bad. So she’s at the bottom of this list.

19. Barbara Kean, Gotham

She ruined her entire life because she was in love with a cop. I don’t want her anywhere near my brain.

18. Pam Swynford De Beaufort, True Blood

Pam’s not really my type, but I do have a whole lot in common with Tara Thornton, who definitely came as close as possible to letting Pam eat her brain, so, like, I guess I could say I wouldn’t let Pam eat my brain, but if it came down to it, maybe I would?

17. Alison DiLaurentis, Pretty Little Liars

The reason I wouldn’t let Alison DiLaurentis eat my brain is because I know she’d then stuff my empty skull will with some kind of doll inside a doll which she’d then hide in a barn in rural Pennsylvania as a clue to a mystery that didn’t have anything to do with me.

16. Jenny Schecter, The L Word

I just want to clear up, first, that, according to Mia Kirshner, Jenny Schecter is alive, after dying, so: undead. I don’t think I’d volunteer to let her eat my brain, but if she did eat it, at least a New Yorker short story would come out of it and the fate of my brain would be debated at length on Twitter after my demise.

15. Sophie-Anne Leclerq, True Blood

I have, historically, not made a lot of great decisions when it comes to ginger femmes, so no matter what I say here, the truth is I would definitely let Sophie-Anne Leclerq eat my brain if she asked nicely. Or meanly. Or, like, if she simply approached me with a fork.

14. Lexa, The 100

Because Lexa is only technically alive in a simulation, I am going to assume she would only simulate eating my brain, which is fine. I simulate stabbing every man who calls me a bitch in video games but I’ve never done it in real life.

13. Ava Silva, Warrior Nun

If this sweet lamb needs my brain to save the world, which is of course the only reason she’d ask, she can have it. And anyway maybe eating my brain will imbue her with my gay powers and make her rebel against the church and tear it down from the inside out.

12. Lucy Westenra, Dracula

The thing about Lucy Westenra is she has Katie McGrath’s face and who’s gonna say no to that?

11. Rose Solano, Jane the Virgin

Another ginger femme, another series of bad choices.

10. Sara Lance, Legends of Tomorrow

I’m saying Sara Lance can eat my brain because I think she’d find a way around eating my brain because she’s an outside-the-box thinker who doesn’t want anymore buried gays. I think she’d save the day and keep my brain in tact and give me one of her dykey high fives while we share a beer after the heroics.

9. Delphine Cormier, Orphan Black

I think Delphine would eat my brain whether I wanted her to or not, if she felt like it needed to be done, and there’s no way I could fight her off or outwit her, so I might as well just submit to the feast.

8. Dani, The Haunting of Bly Manor

Having my brain eaten by Dani seems like it could be one of those epic poems about sirens and the sea, and then we’ll just live our lesbian lives in the lake for all eternity, which doesn’t seem like too bad of a deal.

7. Bill Potts, Doctor Who

Bill’s been through enough shit to last a hundred lifetimes. If she needs to eat my brain, it’s hers.

6. Mona Vanderwaal, Pretty Little Liars

The thing about Mona Vanderwaal is she could literally be eating my brain right now and I wouldn’t even know it — and if I discovered it, if I saw her munching on my noggin, and I was like, “Why are you gnawing on my head?” She’d be like, “Because you signed this ironclad contract telling me I could.” And she would produce the contract, which I wouldn’t remember signing, but my name would be right there on the dotted line, and I would be legally required to let her continue her meal.

5. Helena G Wells, Warehouse 13

HG probably invented something to make the whole brain-eating process as painless and mess-free as possible, so I guess that’s okay, and she could also probably bring me back to life with a robot brain, and she’d probably cryogenically freeze me until my new brain was ready. Pretty good looking out, for a brain-eater.

4. Vamp!Willow, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Waaaait a second, is this where my ginger femme path of emotional destruction began???

3. Villanelle, Killing Eve

I’m going to be honest with you: I think my wife would like to get into a situation where me and her and Villanelle are kinda taking turns eating each other’s “brains,” and I’m never going to deny my wife her wildest dreams. (Jodie Comer said Villanelle climbed out of the Thames after being shot, so it’s all good, she’s undead.)

2. Tara Thornton, True Blood

If Tara Thornton asked me for literally anything, including a bite of my brain, I would simply say: yes.

1. Kathryn Janeway, Star Trek: Voyager

Ahhh. No. THIS is where my ginger femme path of emotional destruction began. Enjoy my medulla oblongata, my queen.

Boobs on Your Tube: Nicole Maines Arrives on “The Flash,” Dreams Do Come True

It’s Final Four Day, baby! (Basketball!) And Championship Voting Day, baby! (Autostraddle March Madness!) Who are you cheering for? (Both!)

This week, Stef reviewed Mae Martin’s new stand-up special. Heather reviewed The Big Door Prize. Kayla recapped Yellowjackets. Drew recapped Drag Race. The Gen Q cast said their goodbyes to the show, while Riese led our TV Team in ranking all the Gen Q sex scenes. Kayla also wrote about why she’ll watch anything with a toxic mentor/mentee dynamic.

Notes from the TV Team:

+ Another week, another upset win for the gays on Food Network’s Tournament of Champions! James Beard Award winning chefbian Karen Akunowicz stepped into the arena this week to face #1 seed Tobias Dorzon in a surf and turf battle. The chefs faced each other on TOC last season and Chef Tobias came out on top…but not this time!

The Randomizer doled out their challenges: the chefs had to create a candle light dinner with crab meat and filet mignon, utilizing a rotisserie oven. Honestly, it was one of the best spins of the Randomizer we’ve seen all tournament…one that didn’t hamstring the chefs and allowed the cooking to just shine. Chef Karen thrived, developing an updated take on a romantic steakhouse dinner: a feta creamed crab spanakopita with butter-basted filet mignon and crab bearnaise. In the end, only two points separated the chefs but it was enough to earn Chef Karen the win. — Natalie

+ It’s hard to know what’ll become of All American: Homecoming given what’s happening at the CW. Previous reports suggest that the network only expects to have three scripted original series next year. All American has already claimed one of those slots, leaving just two slots of the rest of the CW’s scripted fare to compete over.

But, if All American: Homecoming ends here, it will have done so giving Nate Hardin two impressive wins: first, she defeats her ex, Nico, in the race for SGA president and, then, she finds the man behind the mask. Turns out, Nate’s dance partner at the masquerade ball was the reporter that’s been covering her campaign. He admits that he’s liked Nate this entire time but, as a nerdy journalist, didn’t believe he had the swagger necessary to approach her. Nate swoons a little bit and the pair share a kiss. — Natalie

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The Flash Episode 907: “Wildest Dreams”

Written by Valerie Anne

DREAMER IS BACK! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!

This week’s episode of The Flash opens with Dreamer, fully suited, in the dream realm, having a spooky dream about ravens and spiders and someone in a cozy bathrobe with glowy blue eyes. The Robed Woman takes Nia’s dream energy when suddenly a wild Iris appears…and the Robed Woman promptly kills her. Nia snaps awake and makes her way to Central City as fast as she can to see her new friend Iris West-Allen.

Iris is surprised to see Nia between the mimosa brunch she has with Nia, Kara, Alex and Ryan (I told Nic this after her weecap of the last Flash but I imagine Sophie, Lena, and Kelly have an “in-laws” brunch at the same time. Maybe Brainy and Barry can hang out then too.)

Hilariously, Nia tells Iris that she’s her career role model, which I support, but no one has ever in-universe acknowledged that Kara isn’t actually a great reporter before.

By the time Nia finishes explaining her dilemma to Iris, the Robed Woman shows up and knocks them both out with dream energy.

While they’re real life bodies are asleep and overheating, Nia and Iris go on adventures through Iris’s psyche, where she sees a version of her life where she’s a cop like her dad (eye roll) or the manager of a Jitters to have a job she could leave behind when she clocks out.

Meanwhile, Barry is in the real world running around trying to find someone to help. Kara, Brainy and John are reportedly “off-world.” And my question is: IS LENA OFF-WORLD. Because the only way I will stand for this darty witch erasure is if it’s known that when Kara is off-world, so is Lena.

ANYWAY,

Nia and Iris try to solve the mystery of why they’re stuck in the dream world, and Iris realizes that she’s felt like she’s stuck on a path without any control over her fate because she knows so much about her own future; did she really earn her Pulitzer if she knows she’s going to earn one before she even finishes her article? Or if she has access to information because she’s married to The Flash? (Nia could have pointed out here that Kara practically got her Pulitzer by accident and also IS Supergirl but it’s fine.)

Nia points out that just because she knows what’s going to happen doesn’t mean it was pre-ordained; Iris chose to be a reporter, and she chooses it every time she follows a lead, every time she stays late to chase the truth. Destiny isn’t one choice, Nia says. It’s a lifetime of choices.

Iris teaches Nia a lesson right back, saying Nia can’t control everything, so Nia gives up control and the Robed Woman reveals herself as The Original Dreamer.

Original Dreamer gives Dreamer her dream energy back, and then some. Nia and Iris wake up, Nia now with a new invisible friend by her side. Nia hugs Iris and says she’ll see her at brunch, and we watch her head back to National City one last time.

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Survivor Season 4405: “The Third Turd”

Written by Anya!

At the start of the episode, Carolyn’s beefing with Yam Yam, who’s (understandably) upset that he was left out of the previous vote. It’s also worth noting that Tika is now an ALL-QUEER TRIBE! Has that ever happened before?!

Back on the Soka tribe, everyone meditates, which I am simultaneously impressed and annoyed by. You know who else seems to be holding multiple truths? Frannie! On one hand, she truly seems to have a crush on Matt — she divulges that after this is all over, they have plans to get Ethiopian food, and “whatever happens, happens”. Okay Frannie! But I also keep having this feeling that she would (and will) gut him if she has to. She knows she’s more strategic than he is, evidenced by when she tells Jamie that Matt’s biggest asset is that he’s… a nice guy! Lol, sure. Multifaceted queen!

At the challenge, the Tika tribe loses, and is sent to Tribal. But before that, the winning Ratu tribe chooses three people to send on a journey: Brandon, Danny, and… Carolyn! I did enjoy the twist that there was no hike or advantage on this journey — it was just a nice meal! However, the meal went from sweet to sour when Carolyn realized she was simply a spectator watching the formation of a bro alliance. Honestly, it was very sexist and hard to watch! Brandon and Danny were literally strategizing as though Carolyn had already been voted out, and ended up discussing their two-person plans, as she sat right freaking there. However, Carolyn was anything but defeated — she left that journey more self-assured and fired up than ever before. Don’t count Carolyn out, and don’t get on her bad side!

Back at camp, the Tika tribe deliberates about who to send home; Carolyn, absolutely rage-filled at the impending bro alliance, wants to team up with Yam Yam (rekindle their friendship!!) because she knows Brandon and Danny want to bring Josh into their bro alliance (they literally said as much). All the strategizing is for naught, however, because just before Tribal, Matthew leaves the game due to extreme shoulder pain — it’s sad to see someone’s dream vanish in front of their eyes, but I had been struggling to feel that bad for a guy who dislocated his shoulder by… climbing a random rock for no reason! So anyway, bye Matthew.

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All American 515: “United in Grief”

Written by Natalie

The morning after Patience’s video release party, Layla shares the truth about Patience’s #1 fan with the artist. Understandably unnerved, she wonders how Miko was able to find out their address. Layla lays out Miko’s history — the constant DM stalking, then the “accidental” run-in at Slauson Cafe, and now the flowers being sent directly to Patience’s house — and warns that there’s something seriously wrong with her. She insists that Patience stay away from Miko and, of course, Patience agrees. Layla tries to take Patience’s mind off the situation with Miko by checking the numbers on the video but even those are underwhelming. Patience storms off in frustration.

But later the views on the video start to skyrocket…thanks, of course, to a post on one of Miko’s fan pages. Layla tries to suppress Patience’s instinct to reach out and thank Miko but Patience suggests they cut the stan some slack. Layla reminds Patience that she’s been down this road before — that All American has done this storyline before — and that Miko is not the kind of person who can be reasoned with. She encourages Patience to cut off all contact…and, of course, Patience doesn’t listen.

Instead, she meets up with Miko at Slauson Cafe and tries to set some boundaries. Miko insists that she’d never do anything to intentionally make Patience uncomfortable and apologizes for having done so. Miko chastises herself for the misstep and Patience tries to assuage her guilt. But when Patience steps away to take a picture with some fans, Stan Miko comes out: she grabs Patience’s phone, unlocks it somehow, and installs spyware that allows her to listen to Patience’s conversations.

Meanwhile, Spencer continues to struggle with his grief over Coach Baker’s death. Coop stops by the beach house to drop Spencer’s brother off and sees firsthand that her best friend’s grief is manifesting as anger. She confront him about what’s going on but he assures her he’s fine and that there’s nothing else to worry about. But she recognizes how Spencer’s pushing away everyone who loves him and encourages him to be honest about his pain. He tells her to back off but Coop continues to press…until Spencer explodes. He scream at her to leave him alone and punches a hole in nearby cabinet. Freaked out by his anger, Coop leaves, and insists on taking Dillon with her. Spencer insists his brother is safe with him but his brother doesn’t agree and leaves with Coop.

“Listen, man, I’ve been rocking with you for way too long,” Coop admits. “I’ve seen every side of you — the good, the bad, the ugly — but this, this Spencer James? I don’t know him, and that scares me.”

The moment is the catalyst that Spencer needs to finally reach out and get professional help. So the next time he crosses paths with Coop — and the rest of his friends and family — he’s fully prepared to accept their comfort and embrace.

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Accused 108: “Esme’s Story”

Written by Natalie

So, I should start out with a warning: Accused is a difficult watch. Not just this episode — which I’m recapping because it stars Aisha Dee and has a lesbian relationship at its center — but all the episodes. The show’s meant to be provocative and it succeeds at its mission but I’m always left wondering: to what end? It’s never been clear to me. But I digress…

Esme “Essie” Brewer is on trial for first degree murder. The prosecutor offers her a deal — second degree murder which would eliminate the possibility of life without parole — but she rejects it outright. She won’t express remorse for something that she doesn’t feel regret over. What’d she do? She killed two white supremacists.

The show flashes back to happier times: Essie with her girlfriend, Aaliyah (Aisha Dee), perusing a local market. They’re happy — blissfully so — until a band of white supremacists show up and launch a protest. Essie tries to pull her girlfriend away but, channeling her inner Kat Edison, Aaliyah tries to draw closer to the protest. When a fight breaks out, Essie finally convinces Aaliyah to leave and just as they do, a speeding car crashes through the crowd. The car strikes one of their friends, leaving him potentially paralyzed, and drives off.

Convinced the police aren’t doing enough to find the driver, Aaliyah tries to find him on her own. She starts online, pretending to be a white supremacist in hopes of crossing paths with someone with information about the hit and run. Essie tries to get Aaliyah to stop, knowing from personal experience how dangerous it is to wade into those waters. But while she’s temporarily distracted, Aaliyah persists with her search until she finds a white supremacist who was at the market that day. Enchanted by the stories that Aaliyah’s concocted — stories based on Essie’s youth, growing up as the child of white supremacists — he tracks her down to see if she’s real. Aaliyah pleads for Essie to go in her place and, eventually, she relents.

She spends time with the bigot, Ancel, first at the bar and then he sends one of his bigot friends, Shaggy, to bring her back to the bigot farm in Upstate New York. Aaliyah urges her not to go but Ancel shared that his group has something big planned and Esme feels obligated to try and stop it…as a way to make amends for her and her family’s sins. Shaggy seems skeptical of Esme immediately but it’s only when he grabs her phone and sees a picture of her and Aaliyah on the lockscreen that he realizes who she is. He was the driver at the market that day and grew incensed when he saw “a white girl, kissing up on her black girlfriend.” He ran into the crowd because of them.

Shaggy threatens to kill Esme but Ancel intercedes. They get into a fight and it gives Esme just enough time to escape in the car that struck their friend. Unbeknownst to Esme, though, she’s driving home with the “something big” in the trunk…and the bomb explodes just outside her apartment, killing multiple people. By the time the police arrive at the farm, the bigots have scattered. Esme finds one of their targets discarded on the ground and notices the name of a gun shop on it. Assuming that the bigots will eventually return to the shop, Esme camps out there in wait. Aaliyah begs her to come home but Esme refuses. When she spots Ancel and Shaggy coming out of the gun shop one night, Esme rams her car right into them.

She’s taken to trial and Aaliyah is forced to testify against her. Aisha Dee gives a heartbreaking performance on the stand — angry but calm and measured — that makes me want to see her in absolutely everything. But Esme’s found guilty anyway…and she’s carted off to prison…and the life that she and Aaliyah had planned to build together will remain just a dream.

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A Million Little Things 508: “Dear Diary”

Written by Natalie

With their engagement cemented, it’s time for Katherine to meet Greta’s parents…or to reintroduce herself to Greta’s parents, to be more precise. After how things between Katherine and Greta ended in high school, Katherine’s anxious that Greta’s parents might still hate her. Greta assures Katherine that they’re over it but, just in case they aren’t, Katherine’s packed enough of Greta’s mom’s favorite candles to lull her into an Autumn Sunset-scented complacency. Greta promises that the weekend will be absolutely perfect but the broken zipper on Katherine’s suitcase says different.

When Katherine arrives at Lon and Lana’s place, she’s still on pins and needles. Lon charges at them, as soon as they arrive, and responds angrily: “You gotta lotta nerve coming back here.” Panicked, Katherine reaches for the speech you know she’s been practicing in her head since they decided to make the trip, but thankfully, Lana intervenes and assures it was just a joke. A Star Wars joke, inspired by Theo’s suitcase that Katherine’s been forced to bring along. They wrap Katherine up in a hug and welcome her into the Strobe family.

Over dinner, Greta’s parents continue their embrace of Katherine. Lana insists that she always felt that there was a special connection between the girls and she’s grateful they found their way back to each other. They all toast to the happy couple. And while, on the surface, everything appears to be going swimmingly, Lon and Lana’s reluctance to tell the story of how they fell in love catches my attention. But Katherine doesn’t notice something’s awry until she happens upon Greta’s parents fighting in the kitchen. Later that night, Katherine tells Greta what she saw but Greta shrugs it off — “married people fight,” she says — and convinces Katherine that she’s just looking for stuff that’s not there.

But the next day when Lon, Lana, Katherine and Greta gather to take their Hannukah photo, she notices a notification from a dating app on her father’s phone. She questions her father about it and he assures her he’s not cheating on her mother. Lon and Lana finally come clean: they’re separating but had tried to keep it a secret so as not to upset Greta’s happiness. Greta’s stunned by the admission. She thought her parents’ relationship was solid and wonders what chance she has if they can’t make it work.

“Listen to me,” Katherine insists. “That’s not gonna be us, okay?…Because we both got it wrong before and we’re gonna get it right this time.”

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Good Trouble 503: “About Damn Time”

Written by Natalie

I really hoped, after last week’s episode, that Good Trouble had turned the corner…that last season’s tone derivation was an anomaly…that the reunion between the Adams Foster sisters was a harbinger of better things to come. But then this week’s episode opened with a drug deal — from packaging to delivery — and I realize that this is just how it’s gonna be now. This is what we’re doing…and I absolutely hate it. But there is a bit of positive news from this week’s episode: first, the theme song is back (much to my relief) and second — and this is the most important thing — THE MAMAS ARE COMING! Now, admittedly, the fact that Stef and Lena aren’t in Los Angeles immediately following the shooting strains credulity but, at this point, I’ll take what I can get.

Here’s what you need to know to get ready for the Mamas’ arrival next week:

While Evan’s recovering from his gun shot wound, Mariana’s been left in charge of his company and his medical decisions. Stepping back into the halls of Speckulate is hard: the bro-hole culture at the company persists, thanks in large part to Dylan, the company’s chief communications officer. When one Speckulate employee asks about lay-offs during the all-staff meeting, Dylan assures everyone that the layoffs are just rumors and no one should worry. But privately, Dylan tells Mariana that the rumors are true and she’s the one who needs to make the decision about which 25 people are laid off.

She returns to the hospital and wonders if she should tell people at Speckulate the truth about what happened. But Evan’s ghost reminds her that sharing the information would only undermine their confidence in her. She notes that the layoffs are going to do that on their own but Ghost Evan assures her that she’ll think of something, she always does. She admits that she’s so afraid of failing him and Ghost Evan simply responds, “then don’t.”

But a conversation with Dennis, as she’s getting ready for work, sparks an idea. Instead of getting rid of 25 low-level employees, she ousts three of Speckulate’s VPs, much to Dylan’s chagrin. He tries to get her to reconsider — tacitly threatening her with a reminder of the upcoming vote about her tenure as CEO — but Mariana stands firm (and looks great doing it!). Dylan begrudingly fires the underperforming VPs but assures them that they’ll be rehired when the board ousts Mariana. Her bold move earns Mariana the respect of her employees, though, and she leaves Speckulate later with her head held high.

Unfortunately, her good mood is undone by Evan’s doctor who reports that Mariana’s ex needs surgery immediately — the bullet kniicked his spine — or he may end up paralyzed. He warns Mariana that the surgery isn’t without its own risks and notes that Evan might not survive. Evan’s sister refuses to make the decision so the choice falls to Mariana. Unsure about what to do, she calls the people she knows can help her make a decision: her Mamas.

Meanwhile, Malika continues to strive for work/life balance in her new job but, unbeknownst to her, that just means that assignments that Lucia needs done ASAP fall to other people in the office. While Tracy works to get Lucia the report she needs, Malika spends time reconnecting with her brother, Dom. The siblings update each other on the details of their lives and he presses Malika about work and her relationship with Angelica. Malika admits that their connection caught her by surprise — she didn’t know she was into ladies — but it doesn’t matter because she works too much. Dom suggest that she stop by Duoro on Thursday, when both he and Angelica are scheduled to work, and show her that she’s achieved new balance between work and her personal life.

At work the next day, Tracy drops the report she had to stay late to finish on Malika’s desk. She laments that Malika got the promotion but she’s the one that’s being forced to do the work. Malika confesses that she had know idea and relays that Lucia told her it could wait until morning. Later, Malika approaches Tracy with a peace offering and apologizes for Lucia asking Tracy to do Malika’s work. However, she refuses to apologize for taking the promotion and criticizes Tracy for being salty about it. She notes that when she first arrived Tracy was indifferent to their work — she insisted she was just there for the benefits and job security — but Tracy confesses that that was just a defense mechanism. Malika encourages her to vocalize her amibition in the future and promises to team with her to get her noticed.

Later, Malika confronts Lucia about passing off her work to other staffers but Lucia insists that it’s a consequence of the boundaries that Malika set. It’s enough to make Malika let go of her firm grasp on those boundaries so, instead of heading to Duoro to show off for Angelica, Malika spends the night in, writing a memo for Lucia.

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Gotham Knights Episode 103: “Under Pressure”

Written by Valerie Anne

This episode is about a gang called the Mutant Gang, which is NOT the owl-themed group they have been talking about for two episodes, and may or may not involve actual mutants. They’re going to attack a gala that Stephanie is attending, so the teens have to work together to stop it.

Also, Cullen infiltrates the precinct to try to steal files, and somehow his disguise works even though he looks like a little boy dressed in his dad’s uniform. This convinces his sister to stop being overprotective, though Harper promises him that she’s always known her brother is a badass.

Once faced with a bomb Turner almost accidentally sets off on account of being useless, science-babe Harper and hacker-extraordinaire Stephanie join forces to try to dismantle it. They sass each other about what to do, both relying on their own expertise, neither of them being able to find a solution, until they’re finally out of time and Stephanie takes a swing and cuts a wire, just in time to save the day. Harper is pissed, and Stephanie doesn’t understand; it worked, didn’t it? Harper somehow concludes that Stephanie choosing her faster solution means that she thinks Harper’s solution that they literally did not have time for was bad and therefore Stephanie thinks she’s better than her. She tells Stephanie to look down at her from elsewhere and stomps off, leaving both Stephanie and me confused about what her entire deal is. Based on what I know about the Rules of CWTV, probably this means they’re going to have a princess-and-the-pauper romance, and I really wish I cared more about this show as a whole, because two smart cookies from two different worlds could have been fun if I didn’t also have to suffer a white man giving cheesy speeches about hope and a teen boy whining about how his daddy didn’t pick him to be his special little bat boy.

Other random thoughts I had that I don’t have room to unpack: Brody’s mom is hot. I like that Duella calls Robin “little bird.” I’m doing my best to stop comparing this show to Batwoman/blaming it for Batwoman’s untimely demise but it’s hard when they have a girl with a batarang! Don’t get me wrong, Robin is an adorable little badass, but the batarang scene just made me miss Ryan Wilder. Also, it’s hard to not miss Sophie, who realized she couldn’t fix the system by participating in it, when she was replaced by Harvey Dent, the chief of the corrupt GCPD who is not only participating in it, but doubling down on it by running for mayor.

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How I Met Your Father Episode 210 & 211: “I’m His Swish” & “Daddy”

Written by Valerie Anne

This week is a double feature!

In the first episode of the set, Ellen hangs out with her brother to cheer them both up since they’re both blue; Jesse because Sophie has a new man, and Ellen because Rachel is still out of town.

But while Jesse is ordering a pizza for them, Rachel calls and says she’s on her way home because she can’t deal with her aunt’s “don’t say gay” friends in Florida. Ellen doesn’t want to bail on her brother, so while he goes downstairs to get the pizza, Rachel sneaks in. When Jesse goes to look for his sister, he gets more than he bargained for, because Ellen and Rachel are fooling around in his bed.

Ellen panics and apologizes and promises it wasn’t her boob he saw and when Rachel makes a joke about how at least someone’s using it. They then embark on my least favorite joke on TV which is “he hasn’t had sex in weeks, what a loser!” So Ellen and Rachel become his wingman, and he finds someone to take home, but she’s immediately turned off when she finds his sister’s bra in his bed.

The second episode is Ellen-light, but has guest appearances by Paget Brewster as Sophie’s mom in a flashback, and Neil Patrick-Harris as Barney Stintson, who Sophie accidentally rear-ends when she is running away from her new boyfriend because she’s afraid he’s actually her bio dad. Barney is intrigued by this potential incest and offers to wave the cost of fixing his car if she tells him her story, so she does. It turns out her boyfriend wasn’t her father, but he did hook up with her mom, and Sophie can’t get past that enough to continue dating him. Barney tells Sophie that finding her long lost father isn’t going to fix all her problems; she has to fix herself, and then maybe she can find room for her father in her life. That said, learning how Barney found his father later in life inspires her, and she tells her friends she wants to find her father, and they all promise to help.

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The Watchful Eye Episode 110: “Hale Fellow Well Met”

Written by Valerie Anne

In the season finale of The Watchful Eye, chaos erupts. James locks Alex in his bathroom, Elena’s mother blackmails her for half the money she’s getting from blackmailing Mrs. Ivy, and Matthew is being accused of killing Allie.

Kim calls Alex because even though she’s miles away from her best friend, she knows something is off because Alex was a no-show at work and that’s very unlike them; also she tracked their phone and they’ve been at James’ apartment. So Ginny and Roman go to check on Alex, and when they get there they find out that Elena has been kidnapped by him, too. They manage to overtake him and free Alex and call the cops and James admits he’s been extorting the Greybournes but had nothing to do with Allie’s death.

Elena goes to Tory to try to get her to believe her that Matthew didn’t kill her sister, but that she thinks someone did, and offers Tory a deal: she’ll tell her everything she knows for $5 million. Tory agrees, and Elena tells her everything she’s learned about Mrs. Ivy’s true identity. Tory starts to have a bit of a breakdown and goes to confront her aunt, but Mrs. Ivy turns the blame to Tory’s husband. That he was just supposed to keep her from trying to open the trust to a new branch of the family, but he took things too far. When Tory leaves, Jocelyn’s ghost tells her Ruby she’s ashamed of her, but Mrs. Ivy says that’s not her name and ignores her mother’s voice.

Ginny takes Alex back to her apartment and comforts them when they are startled by a knock at the door. Turns out, it’s Kim, who is happy to see her best friend and her best girl safe and sound. They all decide it’s time to talk about Elena.

Meanwhile, Bennett takes off with Roman, and Darcy admits she forged the note that blames Matthew for Allie’s death, and the detective steals the birth certificate and calls Elena’s mom. Elena steals a quiet moment with Jasper to play with him and keep him smiling, and looks up to see Allie’s ghost standing in the doorway; she smiles approvingly at Elena before disappearing.

Across the hall, Tory brings her husband a smoothie and after he’s taken a few gulps, flat-out asks him if he killed her sister. See, she poisoned the smoothie and will only give him the antidote if he tells her the truth. He says he just wanted to scare Allie by drugging her but it gave her suicidal ideations and he didn’t stop her when she climbed up onto the windowsill. The doorman had seen him, which is why he had to die. Tory gives him the antidote but then the dummy keeps talking. Calls Allie “the pretty one” and claims Tory secretly wanted Allie to die. But Tory sure did not, and she proves it by stabbing him to death.

When Elena goes to find Tory to tell her about the forged note, she finds Tory standing over her husband’s dead body. Tory says, very matter-of-factly, “We’re gonna need a shovel,” and that’s where the season ends. Whew! What a ride.

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Autostraddle March Madness 2023: Trope-y Wives – Championship

It’s GAME DAAAAYYYYY!!!! Finally. I know that technically, there’s been women’s basketball being played during this lull between the Elite 8 and the start of the Final Four — the Women’s NIT semi-finals and international leagues — but, for a basketball obsessed person like me, the last few days have felt like famine after an entire month of feast. Plus, the college basketball transfer portal is open and big names (including some from my beloved Wolfpack) are jumping in and there’s been no women’s basketball on to assuage my anxiety. But now, it’s semifinal Friday: we’re here, we’re queer, and there’s basketball to be played…and that’s cause for celebration.

Tipping off first tonight is what some might dub the undercard — the less important bout that serve as a prelude to the main event — but for me, I’m expecting Virginia Tech vs. LSU to be the most competitive game of the night…maybe even of the entire Final Four. My heart, of course, with the Hokies. Because I’m an ACC girl, I’ve had a front row seat to the growth of the program and it’s been a thrill to watch them get to this point. Plus, let’s be honest here: I’ll never cheer for a Kim Mulkey-led team for reasons, no matter how many players I like on her roster (i.e., Angel Reese AKA Bayou Barbie and Flau’jae Johnson). But if I take the emotion out of it, I’m truly split on who might win.

And then the battle that everyone’s been waiting for: Iowa vs. South Carolina. The most explosive offensive power of Iowa Caitlin Clark vs. the defensive prowess of South Carolina. I wish I thought that this match-up would live up to the hype around it but I’m expecting the Gamecocks to win in a cakewalk. South Carolina came out a little slow against Maryland but I don’t expect them to repeat that tonight: though Coach Dawn Staley assured reporters that her players are focused on winning a championship, I can’t imagine that the team’s not feeling some type of way about Aliyah Boston not repeating as Player of the Year and Staley passed over for AP Coach of the Year. I think they’ll be playing with a little chip on their shoulder…and it’ll put Iowa on their heels, early on…

Don’t get me wrong: I fully expect Caitlin Clark to do Caitlin Clark things. I’d be shocked if she didn’t put up 30 points tonight. She’s an absolute bucket. But I don’t know that Iowa’s offense is potent enough to stymie South Carolina’s defense, especially when Staley pairs Boston and Kamilla Cardoso in the frontcourt. My head and heart are united on this one: South Carolina all the way.

But, okay…that’s not what we’re here to talk about — though, c’mon, we’ve been doing this for five years now, at this point you should just expect it — we’re here to set up our final vote in the 2023 Autostraddle March Madness competition.

In the end, two #1 seeds are left standing.

Ava and Sara had a phenomenal run in this tournament, one very few of us saw coming, but round after round, the Space Wives managed to pull through…even if it was by relatively narrow margins. I think #Avalance really benefitted from the Trope-y Wives format this year. Typically, they’re locked into the Sci-Fi/Fantasy bracket and get eliminated early because there’s more overlap in the fandoms. #Avalance put up a strong fight against the Forbidden Fruit region’s #1 seed, Emily and Sue of Dickinson, but finally, their luck just ran out. But even with the win, #EmiSue fans should be concerned: much like the LSU Tigers, their offensive performance has taken a step back in subsequent rounds…they got fewer votes in the Final 4 than they did in the Elite 8, despite facing quality opponents in both. Dickinson fans are going to have to step up their game if they want to be declared our Trope-y Wives.

In the five years we’ve done this tournament, I’ve noticed one recurring habit: fandoms will start out strong but fade as the contest goes on, losing interested in advancing their fave to the final. When favorites go down in defeat, that’s usually why…the fandom just runs out of gas. But that hasn’t happened this year….and, in particular, when you look at the other half of the bracket — the semi-final match-up between Maya and Carina of Station 19 and Ava and Beatrice of Warrior Nun — the opposite actually happened. As the contest went on, both those fandoms grew more dedicated to showing up for their favorite couples. But in the end, the intensity of the #Marina fandom and, much like I anticipate South Carolina doing, the last year’s champion will return to defend her crown.

Will we have a repeat champion or will Emily and Sue upset the reigning champion? Well, of course, that comes down to your votes. As usual, you’ve got 48 hours to cast your ballots in our championship round. Remember, this year, you can vote four times over the voting period (or to be more precise once, every 12 hours) so be sure to take advantage of that! We’ll be back on Monday to crown one couple, the Trope-y Wives!

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Forbidden Fruit: #1. Emily and Sue – Dickinson vs. Opposites Attract: #1. Maya and Carina – Station 19