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unpassive-viewer · 11 months

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Kings of Summer (2013) Review

“Hey Joe? Did you know we’ve been walking for half a mile? I can tell by how much we’ve bonded.” - Biaggio

“He took the Monopoly, too. As a way to spite me.” - Frank Toy

Hey gang, wow. It’s been like... eight months since I was here last. Still no Northman review in the works. To be honest I sort of forgot I had this account. I started grad school in January, so my other passion projects sort of went out the window.

Instead of reviewing a movie that anyone remembers or is in theatres, I’m going to review/break down one of my favourites - Kings of Summer. I don’t think that many people know this one. It was Nick Robinson pre-Love Simon. I have endless love for this film. It feels like a warm hug. Every time I need to bring myself back to reality or chill the hell out, I watch this film. Considering the whole grad school thing, it’s likely I’ll need to watch it again pretty soon.

The movie follows three teenagers who are frustrated with their families and decide to build a house in the woods to escape them for a summer. It’s a coming of age story about navigating relationships, self-discovery and growing up. Sounds simple enough, right? But this film is so much more than a typical attempt at engaging a teenage audience. In addition to the coming of age element, it’s also a look at a father/son relationship that’s on the rocks, as they tend to be when you’re 15. I really believe it has something for everyone, it is so funny and so wholesome.

The cast is “star-studded” in the best way. Nick Robinson (as mentioned), Alison Brie, Nick Offerman, Megan Mullally, Moises Arias (maybe better known as Rico from Hannah Montanna), Lilli Reinhart (Riverdale), Erin Moriarty (The Boys), Marc Evan Jackson (Kevin from B99), Eugene Cordero, and Hannibal Buress and Kumail Nanjiani in smaller roles, among others. All of the adult actors are pretty established in comedy, and bring really interesting depth to the characters they embody.

The soundtrack is fantastic. Like I could not think of better music for a coming of age movie. I regularly listen to it while studying or writing papers. ( https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2c86gY4Ehvpngyxx8LwnTX?si=c2f2381ee3c2468f for anyone interested).

The art direction is phenomenal as well. This movie is very close to Arrival in that watching it feels like taking a breath of fresh air. There are so many shots that seem to place you into a cool summer evening in the woods. They remind me so much of the summers of my childhood, where I’d be out before noon and come home as the streetlights turned on.

And it is funny. The humour is very much typical of Nick Offerman, paired with capitalizing on tension and awkwardness among all the characters. It gives me a little secondhand embarrassment, but some of the most effective humour is within the scenes you sort of wish would just end.

So, clearly I’m already biased to this film. It’s in my top five movies of all time, if that says anything.

From here on is more of an analysis, so spoilers inbound:

I’m going to organize the content of this movie into two sections - one which will follow the standard three-act play, and the other which I will affectionately label “fuck around and find out”.

Before we start, some general character sketches of everyone so I don’t have to go through the entire synopsis.

Joe Toy: Fantastical thinker, head-in-the-clouds-syndrome. Rebellious, sort of petulant, and at least in the beginning expects to be able to do whatever he wants just because he wants to. Bottom line, he’s a selfish teenager.

Patrick Keeney: Joe’s best friend. Cautious - a total reflection of his household. Patrick is caught between wanting to make Joe happy, his realistic thinking, and figuring out who he wants to be in relation to those around him.

Biaggio: A-grade comic relief. Awkward, a little strange, but very loyal. We don’t hear anything about Biaggio’s family until the last 30 minutes of the movie. We don’t find out if they anticipated his disappearance or not since he seems to trust his father, but at the very least they were not worried that he’d gone missing. We can only imagine the kind of household he lives in considering his personality and the relative ease with which he returns after being gone for three and a half weeks.

Kelly: Joe’s love interest. Clearly has her own shit going on. She opens with a boyfriend who is visibly a lot older than she is, and is working a job where she has to deal with idiots constantly. Kelly needs someone who is kind to her and treats her like a person, which is 100% not Joe for like 95% of the movie, which is probably why she ends up with Patrick.

Frank Toy: Joe’s dad, widower, typical Nick Offerman character. Headstrong and combative. Not bad, just lonely and punishing others for it.

Mr and Ms. Keeney: overbearing helicopter parents who love their son a whole lot, despite how in his business they are.

Heather: Joe’s older sister. Must be somewhat similar to her mother, based on the way that Frank describes their mother as being someone who just “let Joe be”. She’s a sort of voice of reason, but is also fed up with her father’s antics. She’s the quintessential “sibling who got out of the oppressive household” character. Often a catalyst for Frank’s realizations.

And with that, I will break down the acts and the things that I noticed. This is mostly a commentary on how the acts set one another up, and the ways they transition between one another.

Act 1: The transitions between acts are marked with the song “The Pipe”. The first time we hear this song is prior to the director giving us the first shot - it plays, and eventually opens on Joe (Nick Robinson), Patrick (Gabriel Basso) and Biaggio (Moises Arias) in what we will later learn is a flash-forward. They’re in-sync, hammering on a pipe in the middle of the woods. As any film major will say, the opening scene is always the most important of the movie. It sets up the entire rest of the film. This shot gives us an important look into their dynamic - Biaggio dancing, and Patrick and Joe complementing one another’s beats on the pipe. In this scene, they are still youthful. We then jump to “one month earlier”, with Joe in the shower dreaming about Kelly (Erin Moriarty), and Frank (Nick Offerman) pounding on the bathroom door, “you’ve been in there for fifty four, no, fifty five minutes!”. From these scenes we know several things - 1) Patrick and Joe are the best friends of the group, Biaggio is adding his very particular flare to the dynamic, 2) Kelly is Joe’s love interest, 3) Joe and Frank are at complete odds with one another. In act 1, we’re at the beginning of our character’s arcs. Joe is rebelling against his father, Frank is bringing down the hammer on his son, Patrick wants to get away from his helicopter parents, and... well, we don’t know much about Biaggio. It’s Biaggio and Joe who initially discover the clearing in the woods where they’ll build the house, and so the plan is hatched.

The crucial parts we learn in Act 1 are all the things that motivate the change which takes place in Act 2. The art direction here is more simplistic, since we’re just setting up the characters. Much of it is reflected between the beginning and ends of the narratives with the characters external to Joe; Biaggio is the first to find the clearing where they build the house, as they walk in darkness after escaping the beach party. Biaggio is conversely the last to leave, also under the cover of darkness. Patrick stumbles into the clearing with the two of them the following day, unsure of the plan, and is the one to tear a hole in the wall of the house they built together. I’m sensing metaphors all around...

Act 2: The second time we hear “The Pipe” it shepherds in Act 2. It comes after a scene with the parents of Patrick and Joe check a greyhound bus for evidence of where their children have gone, and find their phones and a single Monopoly piece. Frank’s Monopoly piece. The scene ends with Frank saying, “he’s taunting me,”. Act 2 begins with, of course, “The Pipe”. Now in the present, we return to Patrick, Joe and Biaggio at the pipe in the woods, followed by Joe’s speech about “being men and answering to no one”. This, of course, will be the catalyst to all of Joe’s character development.

The art direction begins to take on a warmer tone leading up to Act 2. The boys have broken out - they’re free, they’re having fun. There are multiple shots of the scenery, of the sunlight coming through the leaves of the trees - this is the part that really speaks to my childhood.

Act 3: Act 3 begins again with “The Pipe”, but this time we don’t see Patrick, Joe and Biaggio. The music starts after Kelly brings Frank to the hideout in the woods, and Biaggio shows up to try and redirect the attention of a copperhead that has backed Joe and Kelly into a corner. This is where we somewhat of a resolution to Joe’s struggle with his father, when they begin to work together as a team. There’s as much of a heart-to-heart as you can get between them.

Leading up to Act 3, after Joe kicks Patrick, Kelly and Biaggio from the house in the woods, the shots take a cooler tone. Joe’s scenes are overcast, whereas Patrick’s are still warm now that he’s back with his family. Patrick’s narrative at this point has mostly been based around how he’s already mature, he had much less learning to do than Joe, and could go home. Joe on the other hand suffers a radical shock to his worldview, which is reflected in the scenery. I’ll discuss in a moment the divergence between the fuck around and find out sections of the movie, but I’ll note here that Patrick’s scene immediately follows a scene showing Frank and Joe. Patrick is mirrored in the same position, but is the only one of the three who is actually happy.

The resolution to Act 3 is somewhat ambiguous. We don’t totally get resolution between Patrick, Joe, and Kelly, but we can see that there’s at least forgiveness between them. Ultimately we don’t need to, because we can see that Joe has grown up, completed his character arc, and he’s less of a petulant child than he was before. This leads essentially into my next method of breakdown:

Fuck Around/Find Out: The Frank and Joe Dichotomy

This breakdown I am making based on the character arcs of both Joe and Frank in relation to one another. This is split almost evenly 2/3 to 1/3 of the runtime, and is how we learn that Joe and his dad are very much parallel to one another. As much as Joe’s is the critical character arc, the narrative underpins the entire film. Frank is really a grown-up version of Joe, navigating his own grief and isolation, with no interest in doing any of the things that would allow him to have a better relationship with his son. They exist in opposition to one another, with Joe perpetually looking for the upper hand on his father. Even when Joe disappears, Frank maintains a “he’s messing with me” narrative, which Patrick’s parents do not have. This childish back and forth is what I’d label the “fuck around” portion of the film, which translates to at least the first 2/3.

The “find out” part of this breakdown takes place once we see that both Joe and his father are alone - physically and emotionally. Joe has cast all of his friends aside after finding out Kelly is with Patrick, and Frank is alone after Heather leaves their house with the conversation, “Heather, am I a bastard?”, “no dad, a bastard would make everyone around him miserable just because he is,”. That’s the tie between them, when both of their arcs meet - they’re both making everyone else miserable because they are.

The scene I’m most interested in is where their parallel scenes with food. Joe has run out of money for the chickens that he was “hunting” (buying form the Boston market) and elects to eat a mouse which we can assume came from inside the forest house, whereas Frank hasn’t bothered to cook anything and instead finally eats the leftover dumplings that he’d previously complained about. They are united in their pathetic meals, neither deciding to take initiative and eat something other than what’s immediately available to them. They’re feeling sorry for themselves, why would they? The scene then cuts between them, both lying on their couches, looking up towards nothing. They are both alone, and they feel it.

This is the scene I’d mentioned which leads into Patrick’s; Patrick is also reintroduced to us sleeping on a couch, but he’s the only one who is in a good mood. He’s been able to rest, and he’s given up on his idea that his parents are the villains (it’s debatable that he ever thought that in the first place). Throughout the film Patrick’s family is cast in contrast to Joe’s. They have inverse problems with their parents, but at the end of the day what Joe has that Patrick doesn’t is a perpetual power struggle between himself and his father.

The scenes in the “find out” portion of the movie are where we start to see divergence between the characters. Joe is thrust into the realization that he needs to grow up for real in his isolation. I’d argue that his father also has to come to terms with admitting that he’s wrong, but Joe’s is the arc that is more glaring in this instance. The reason I say this is that if Frank had his own similar character arc, it’s unlikely that Joe would have felt the need to run away in the first place. Their dynamic culminates, of course, in them being able to at least somewhat settle their grievances at the end of the movie. Like any tumultuous parent/child relationship, there’s no real “sorry” moment, just a mutual understanding that settles between them. It’s the equivalent of your parent bringing you a bowl of fruit after a blow-out, or waking up to find they’ve taken your car to get its oil changed.

So yeah, that’s my little (not so little) stream of consciousness assessment of Kings of Summer. I may come back and edit this one later - I’ve been writing about Harry Truman for the last three weeks, which makes it hard to switch into coherent creative-style writing.

Have you seen Kings of Summer? If you haven’t, please watch it. It would make my nerd heart so happy to know other people like my favourite movies.

Oh yeah, and if it wasn’t clear already - 5/5 stars. or 10/10. I have no idea what metric I’ve been using to rate movies, or if I even had for the last few posts. All you need to know is it’s good, ok?

#Kings of summer #nick robinson #nick offerman #movie review #alison brie #movie recommendation #watch this movie #my favourite movie #favourite movies #good movies #coming of age

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johannestevans · 6 months

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So you finished Our Flag Means Death…

What show do you want to obsess over now?

Also read on Medium / / Read on Patreon.

So, Our Flag Means Death, unexpected workplace romcom chock-a-block with anachronistic 18th century fun, piracy on the high seas, gay and trans and otherwise genderweird and queer characters, not to mention neurodivergent and disabled ones, is over for at least another year. You’re aching for something of a similar flavour to fill the gap — especially if, like many of us, the finale has left you disappointed and eager to watch a show with a bit more care for its queer audiences.

Want recs?

After finishing Our Flag Means Death, I’m in the mood for…

Ed cradling Stede’s face in S1 of Our Flag Means Death. Via IMDb.

… more (relatively) light-hearted queer comedy!

The most obvious example I can start with is, of course, What We Do In The Shadows. While its fifth season was weak, its sixth season was in my opinion its best ever — a spin-off of the Taika Waititi-directed (and starring) mockumentary film of the same name, WWDITS is a fun-filled, ridiculous and deeply silly show starring a variety of incompetent and bumbling and blood-thirsty vampires and their various friends, enemies, and companions. It’s constantly and continuously queer, with the majority of the cast of characters being openly bisexual, and one of them being gay and having an emotive coming-out arc with his family.

Nandor (Kayvan Novak) and Guillermo de la Cruz (Harvey Guillén) in WWDITS. Via IDMb.

WWDITS follows the adventures of Guillermo de la Cruz, fat and gay and badass and so fucking pretty, the familiar to a vampire named Nandor the Relentless, a big himbo ex-warrior plagued by insecurity and ready to enter in power struggles with anybody from a fellow warrior to a household appliance, and the rest of Nandor’s household — Laszlo Cravensworth (once an English aristocrat, still a dandy, charming, slutty, and well-spoken — and often tinkering with experiments or DIY), Nadja of Antipaxos (once an impoverished member of a Mediterranean village, dramatic, intelligent, sharp-witted, and wry — and often getting involved in various misadventures), and Colin Robinson (an “emotional vampire” who feeds by boring those about him, dull, mundane, and painfully cringe at all times in the best of ways). As a mockumentary, its tone is silly and light-hearted, but it’s not without its emotional stakes, and there’s so many references to other pop culture vampires.

The BBC’s sitcom, Ghosts, is a great sitcom to go for if you’re in the mood for more of a neurodivergent found family vibe, with sumptuous costumes and a complex and intriguing cast who have a lot of wonderful moments with each other. The show follows Alison and Mike, who inherit a manor house and find when they start to refurbish it that it’s full to the brim with silly, ridiculous, and unrelentingly friendly — not to mention antagonistic — ghosts. Ghosts, like Our Flag Means Death claimed to be prior to its S2 finale, is a tremendously loving and kind show — it spends a lot of its time building up flawed characters and encouraging them to change and grow, giving you time as a viewer to love them.

See any familiar faces? Many of the Ghosts cast also appear in Horrible Histories. Via IMDb.

The show is not as continuously or constantly queer as WWDITS, but it does have elements of queerness dotted around the main cast, particularly in the character of the Captain, the ghost of a WW1 soldier who was never deployed abroad, but spent his time in service yearning for the intimate company of a fellow soldier.

Brendan Scannell and Zoe Levin in Bonding. Via IMDb.

Want something a little weirder, a little kookier? Crave a bit more of the BDSM flavouring around Our Flag, more whips, more leather, more latex, more kink? You might like to try Bonding — this show features a woman who begins moonlighting as a dominatrix and then employs her gay BFF as her assistant. It suffers from the tendency shows like this have to sideline Pete a bit as the gay BFF, with some of his characterisation being squandered to prop up the less interesting protagonist, but it’s really funny and honestly super heartfelt.

And if you want really weird, really kooky, and unabashedly and delightfully and wonderfully queer, there is always The Gay and Wondrous Life of Caleb Gallo, which is a gorgeously funny and loving gay comedy that you can watch online!

Apart from those above, you might like to try Special (a sitcom exploring the romantic and sexual misadventures of a deeply selfish and flawed character a la Stede Bonnet, this one a young gay man with cerebral palsy), Schitt’s Creek (a sitcom about a posh family falling on hard times and featuring several queer characters, particularly the bisexual David Rose, played by Dan Levy), and Grace and Frankie (a show about two ageing women who are best friends, and whose husbands leave them to start a romance with one another).

… more of the stunning cast!

You’ve watched Our Flag Means Death and you’re craving more of the spectacular and incredibly skilled cast.

If you want more of Nathan Foad (Lucius Spriggs) particularly, you’re in luck — last year, Foad wrote and served as executive producer on a show loosely inspired by his early life as a weird boy growing up gay in Nottinghamshire, Newark, Newark. It’s very silly, funny, full to the brim with love, and also deeply silly and willing to get in touch with the cringe side of life. It’s only three episodes, but starring the unparalleled Morgana Robinson as the harried mother of Leslie, the closeted-but-not sixteen-year-old who is trying desperately to lead the tragic gay life he’s seen on TV, it really makes the most of that limited runtime, and it’s so fucking good. Nathan Foad even has a cameo in it as a freaky and overfamiliar employee at the bowling alley.

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He has a cameo in another great show, too — Bloods is an incredible sitcom about two NHS paramedics working in an ambulance together. It’s rapid-paced, it’s messy, it’s horrible and hilarious, and it stars Jane Horrocks as Wendy across from Our Flag’s Samson Kayo (Oluwande) as Maleek. The two are chalk and cheese in the front seat of their ambulance together, and Kayo is so incredible in the lead role balancing Maleek’s own desire to appear as cool and tough whilst also being vulnerable and having his own insecurities, especially because Wendy challenges him on so many points. Wendy is great as well, the two an exercise in contrasts, but Kayo and Horrocks are spectacular among an equally spectacular cast — you get to see so many different dynamics at the depot and in other settings, amongst other NHS staff, and the show is non-stop with the punches and the punchlines. If you really enjoy how well-balanced and how fitting the soundtrack to Our Flag is, you’ll love the music and its pacing in Bloods. Foad’s cameo in this is as Wendy’s neurotic and kind of a fuck-up son, and he’s so messy.

If you want more of Joel Fry (Frenchie), he stars in the first few seasons of Plebs — this is a goofy comedy set in Ancient Rome, and it’s not dissimilar to The Inbetweeners in its tone and content. Some of the jokes are funny, sometimes. I don’t recommend it because it really gives Joel Fry his full acting chops — but he’s hot and he’s funny and he’s cute in this, and even if you’re not super passionate about the show, if you like Frenchie, you probably will like Stylax too.

Joel Fry and Con O’Neill (Izzy Hands) also both play characters in season 2 of Ordinary Lies, which is an anthology series, so you don’t need to watch season 1. The premise of the show each season is that the narrative jumps between characters in a workplace and explores the ramifications of the small lies they tell themselves and each other. While O’Neill’s role is a more typical set of lies that concerns adultery (or not), Fry’s involves vigilanteism and attempts at superheroism, and the plot is quite fun. This show is obviously a drama, and is tragically heterosexual on many points, but for all that, has its good and intriguing elements too.

But what about Con O’Neill doing what he’s good at — playing wet, pathetic men? Very wet, very pathetic men? In Happy Valley, O’Neill plays a gloriously wet and pathetic man named Neil Ackroyd, who enters into a relationship with the protagonist, Catherine Cawood’s, sister, Clare. Clare is an alcoholic in recovery, as is Neil, and they have a really sweet and mutually supportive relationship — Neil’s particularly gorgeous in the most recent series, where he really dotes on Catherine’s grandson, Ryan, and he and Clare play a great duo. Neil is introduced in the beginning of season 2.

The premise of the series is that Catherine Cawood, a police officer in Yorkshire, is attempting to solve crimes while at the same time her grandson, Ryan, is curious about and desires to make contact with his father, whom he has never met. Ryan’s mother was raped by his father and died by suicide after Ryan’s birth, whereon Catherine raised him alongside her sister. Happy Valley is a cop show, and Catherine Cawood is really funny as a character. She’s a deeply conservative and cruel, reactionary woman who constantly engages in police brutality whilst trampling over people’s rights — she believes that people are born evil and bad, effectively, and while she often talks about the effects poverty have on people’s outlooks, lifestyles, and actions, she can’t quite make that connection with her beliefs. As a cop show, it’s really interesting because it’s very pro-cop and tries to be on Catherine’s side for much of her crueller actions, but at the same time is so starkly blunt about the awful shit she does that it doesn’t exactly make you put faith in cops no matter the intent. Clare Cawood, and then Neil, are naturally far more critical of Catherine’s perspective.

But if you really loved Izzy at his best in S2, if you love Izzy full of love whilst also being precise and cold and calculated in the defence of his family, if you love him beautiful and wonderful and unabashedly queer, you’ll undoubtedly adore Val, who appears in Uncle as the transfem and gorgeous dad of Gwen. Uncle isn’t a great TV show, it’s an example of one of those shows where they give a deeply dull cishet white dude who feels insecure a show where he sort of masturbates about how much he sucks and how he’s unlovable, but really, isn’t it on the people around him to love him anyway?

But Val is great. She’s so much fun, she’s funny and sharp and full of quips, she’s flirtatious, she’s hot, and she has some tremendous gender stuff going on as well as some gorgeous costuming throughout. If you like Uncle’s humour, watch all the episodes — if you don’t, just skip everything that doesn’t have Val in it. Val is where the good stuff is.

Or don’t watch it at all, and just watch this scene pack on YouTube:

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Taika Waititi appears far more in great movies than he does TV shows, although he’s also one of the producers on Reservation Dogs, which is excellent — it’s a native-led and starring comedy series, and it rocks. Most of the time when Waititi does TV, it’s in cameos.

Apart from the cameo he makes in the What We Do In The Shadows TV show, I mentioned in the sitcom section, Taika Waititi also appears in the Flight of the Conchords TV series, starring the band members of the band of the same name. Rhys Darby also appears in every episode as Jemaine and Bret’s fictional manager, Murray Hewitt, and Murray is such a fun, bizarre character — and with a wholly different facial hair situation than you might have imagined for him before.

Wholly different facial hair. Via IMDb.

… more sailors!

Pickings are slim for a good pirate show, or indeed, any good show with nautical flavours to it — scenes at sea are high budget and hard to shoot, and as was evident with much of Our Flag Means Death’s second season at the hands of HBO Max, many studios do not want to proffer the budget for such things.

Let’s start with the best of recommendations — a show that’s unapologetically queer, anti-imperialist, anti-establishment, and full to the absolute brim with pirates, historical and fictional. Interested in Mary Read, Anne Bonny, Calico Jack, Benjamin Hornigold, Israel Hands, or of course, the inimitable Edward ‘Blackbeard’ Teach, real historical pirates who are portrayed and played with in the course of Our Flag Means Death, and want to see a very different take on them? Enjoy lesbians constantly scheming to kill each other, torture each other, and generally make one another miserable (sexual)? Read Treasure Island, perhaps, and ever wonder what came before?

Not-Yet-Captain Flint (Toby Stephens) and Thomas Hamilton (Rupert Penry-Jones) in Black Sails. Via IMDb.

Black Sails has all of the above and more — while it is very queer and anti-establishment, I will say that it’s far more similar in tone to Game of Thrones than to OFMD. The comedy bits are hilarious in part because the stakes are so high, but Black Sails is firmly a drama, and a gritty, violent one at that. It lacks the escapism present in OFMD — there is constant and continuous sexual violence, brutal gore and brutality, racism, classism, deep misogyny and homophobia from the society around the characters. The characters on offer are varied and complex, flawed, and interesting, but your mileage may vary with how much you vibe with them.

Making use of some of Starz’ old set pieces for Black Sails, including some of their ships, the new One Piece live-action reboot — an adaptation of the anime of the same name (itself an adaptation of the manga) — is a fast-paced, fantastical, and colourful new release. If what you loved about Our Flag was its playful relationship with real-life piracy and chronistic details, its flexibility with “reality” and its eagerness to play around with tropes and expectations, with its creation of found family through a ragtag and varied mix of individuals. What it isn’t, unfortunately, is textually or explicitly queer, let alone as unabashedly queer as Our Flag and Black Sails are respectively.

HMS Terror and HMS Erebus sailing through the surface ice in The Terror. Via IMDb.

If you’d rather have queer sailors at any cost than having ones that aren’t explicitly queer, there is, of course, season 1 of The Terror. Based off of Dan Simmons’ magical horror reimagining of the real events of the lost ships in the Arctic, the HMS Terror and HMS Erebus, the first season of this anthology horror series is itself a deeply anti-imperial story following the events of two British ships that become stranded on the ice whilst attempting to discover the North-West Passage, and in so doing poison themselves and the land and people around them. Stuck in place in a cold and unfamiliar environment that does not have sufficient resources to sustain them — and in any case, an environment and resources that as invaders of, they do not know how to live in relationship with — they are hunted by an Inuit spirit, a representation of and manifestation of the imbalance they’ve caused by their mere presence.

The Terror has a few more explicitly gay dynamics in the book than in the TV show, but the show does feature an unstable, cannibalistic bastard of a man whose favourite hobbies are identity theft, violence, and emotional manipulation — and he’s gay. Representation win!

As you might imagine from that description, The Terror is not a cheerful, happy show — it’s deeply violence and very at home with hopelessness, but has some fascinating exploration of British imperialism, whiteness, class dynamics, queer men on ships, and chilling horror.

And it’s not a TV show, but I would be remiss if I did not mention and recommend Taika Waititi’s favourite romance movie — Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003, dir. Peter Weir). Based off of Patrick O’Brien’s long-running Aubreyad, starting with Master and Commander, this film is about Captain Jack Aubrey and his duet partner and best friend (wink wink) Stephen Maturin, the ship’s surgeon. It’s a gorgeous film and while of course not explicit, it’s pretty fucking gay — although unlike the other pieces I’ve mentioned, as Napoleonic-era fanfiction about British navymen, it’s not nearly as critical of British imperialism as one might like, with the majority of the criticism coming from Maturin, and might leave a poor taste in the mouth compared to pieces more critical of the British imperial evil.

… more queer period dramas and historical shows!

Anne Lister (Suranne Jones) contemplating her hat and gloves. Via IMDb.

Let’s start with a historical drama — Gentleman Jack, starring Suranne Jones, is set in the early 1800s and is an biographical look at the life of the cryptic diarist and all around delightfully butch lesbian dirtbag, Anne Lister. Apart from the obviously intriguing concept, the show has some sumptuous costuming and set designs, and there are so many different characters and dynamics throughout. I’m always a sucker for an epistolary piece, and as it’s based off of Lister’s diaries, this show has a lot of epistle work throughout.

If you’re a sucker for lesbians in period dramas, though, you might just like Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries — the eponymous Phryne Fisher is not the lesbian in question. She’s a flapper and private detective in 1920s Melbourne, complete with a little golden gun, and is very hetero — but her best friend, a doctor named Mac (short Elizabeth MacMillan), is gay, and she’s so much fun. Where Phryne is really high-energy and excitable, constantly jumping from idea to idea, Mac is a lot chiller and more smooth, and she’s so suave and so much fun. Miss Fisher is a fun show — alas, a cop show, but it’s a lot more light-hearted, and it does a lot of playful stuff with the period and particularly with costuming details and things like cars, weapons, and various inventions.

Getting dressed and leaving the boytoy still abed. Via IMDb.

If you’re open to a miniseries that’s a lot dirtier and nastier than much of the above, have I got the recommendation for you: A Very English Scandal. Starring a relatively innocent and easily manipulated Ben Whishaw across from the deliciously greasy and depraved Hugh Grant, this is a dramatisation of the Thorpe Affair — a political scandal in the UK in the late 1970s — and it’s so fun and so sexy. If whilst watching Our Flag you’ve been giggling and kicking your feet whenever the more fucked up shit goes on in intimate ways, you will almost certainly delight in this one.

… more of… something. Surprise me!

You might have heard of NBC’s Hannibal, which is a gay take on the dynamic between Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham, but the same creator, Bryan Fuller, also did Pushing Daisies, which is a gorgeous 2-season show that was cancelled long before it ought have been. It explores intimacy at a necessary distance, and has some wonderful queer themes throughout, and stars Lee Pace.

The new TV adaptation of Anne Rice’s books, Interview with the Vampire, is glorious — it’s openly and unabashedly gay, it’s so full to the brim with depth, and unlike other shows I can mention, it really doesn’t try to shy away from the cruelty of abuses in intimate relationships, or try to shift the blame for abuse entirely onto the back of the victim in a last-minute attempt to foster more sympathy for the abuser. Interview goes so deep into the loneliness and isolation of being separated from society’s mores and expectations, of how that isolation leaves you at much more risk of leverage and abuse by intimate partners, of the brittleness of found family under heavy pressure, and alongside all of that, like…

It’s a vampire show! It’s sexy! It’s full of blood and horror and misery and grief — the grief of being alive when you should be dead, and at the same time, being halfway dead when you seem to be alive. It’s funny and it’s dark and it’s just full to the brim with poetry, has some honestly gorgeous dialogue, and on top of all that, it’s well-paced, beautifully costumed, and tremendously shot and scored. Watch!

Looking for queer movies, as well as TV shows? I have a big rec list of gay movies here:

#musings #our flag means death #i'm gonna write about how shit the ofmd finale was and what a pisstake it was in the week #but in the meantime here #have this #watch a better fuckin show #Youtube

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