Okay, so I was sipping my questionable third cup of reheated coffee the other day (because I’m fancy like that), and my brain did that thing where it jumps tracks mid-thought like a squirrel changing sidewalks. Out of nowhere, I started thinking about my Movie-a-Day challenge from last year. If you were here for that chaos, you know—it was a lot. A lot. I mean, who knew watching a movie every single day could be both thrilling and weirdly exhausting? There were days I watched some obscure Czech gay drama at 1 a.m. just to keep the streak alive. But honestly? I kinda loved it. Even when the movie was baffling or the subtitles were clearly translated by someone using Google Translate in a moving car.
Anyway, that whole experience stuck with me in this itchy, persistent way. Like glitter you spilled a year ago that’s still showing up in your socks. So now I’m getting that itch again to dive into movies…but I’m not about to commit to another daily watchathon. I like sleep. And snacks. And maintaining the illusion that I have a life.
So here’s my thought: a queer cinema exploration series. You know, something where I dig into LGBTQ+ films a couple times a week, then hop on here to ramble about them with all the enthusiasm of someone who just discovered garlic aioli for the first time. (Seriously, why is garlic aioli so good? It’s just mayo and garlic. Witchcraft.)
Now, before anyone side-eyes me like, “Wait, isn’t this a writing blog? Why are we talking about movies?”—look, I get it. But I write about queer characters. I read queer stories. I live a queer life. And sometimes, I need to talk about queer movies too, okay? Plus, writing and film are besties. They share snacks and secrets. Film influences my storytelling all the time—structure, pacing, tone. And sometimes, I just want to yell about how Portrait of a Lady on Fire made me feel emotionally wrecked in the most tender way. That’s valid.
Also, queer cinema is such a treasure trove of underdog storytelling and awkward first kisses and found family magic. From the gritty ’90s indies to the glossy coming-outs of the 2020s, there’s so much to explore. I might rewatch classics like The Watermelon Woman or My Own Private Idaho, or finally tackle those quiet little foreign queer films that people always whisper about like they’re sharing state secrets.
I haven’t pinned down a start date just yet. Let’s just say it’ll begin “soon-ish,” which is vague enough to be both noncommittal and oddly comforting. You’ll know it’s begun when a post appears that starts with, “Okay, so I watched this film and—OH MY GAY HEART.” I’ll probably call the series “Adventures in LGBTQ Cinema” or something like that. Another option is “A Year in Queer Cinema,” though I may continue it past a year (who knows?).
Anyway, I hope you’re into this idea, because I’m really looking forward to it. It’ll be like a casual hangout where I throw some thoughts at the wall, and you can decide if they’re worth anything or just artfully arranged nonsense. Maybe it’ll even spark a few movie recommendations from you, which I am always down for. (Unless it’s Cats. Don’t do that to me.)
Thanks for reading my slightly-caffeinated ramble. Catch you soon for some cinematic queerness!