Hi gay! Buckle up—the season of corporations changing their logos for 30 days is once again upon us. Whether you’re #slaying rainbow capitalism or #SashayingAway from various Pride month celebrations, you’ll want to put down your Criterion edition of Blue is the Warmest Color (whoever made that decision must be prosecuted for their hate crimes against the lesbian community) and check out these actually enjoyable LGBT+ films.

Serial Mom, dir. John Waters

Okay, hear me out—no, Serial Mom is not explicitly queer. But when you give John Waters his biggest film budget yet and ultimate creative freedom, you know you’re going to be in for a deranged camp-fest. Kathleen Turner’s portrayal of Beverly Sutphin, a suburban housewife who loves to say “pussy” and dabbles in the occasional murder of those who commit social no-nos like not recycling or not wearing a seatbelt, is an extremely queer subversion of the typical reserved housewife we see in media. Although she puts on a persona of the perfect wife to the public, she is clearly not meant to and has no desire to fill the heterosexual gender roles that society and her circumstances expect her to. Even still, she is a devoted mother and wife who will happily put an end to anyone who messes with her family. Not only is Serial Mom a hilariously good time, it also quite poignantly predicted the American public’s obsession with turning accused murderers into celebrities. Released just six months before the O.J. Simpson trial began, the trial of Beverly Sutphin has some shocking parallels. Serial Mom creates a character that is such a charismatic public figure that although everyone knows she is guilty, she is just so damn charming that it puts the entire trial and public opinion into a tizzy. This is perfectly encapsulated by Beverly asking her husband played by Sam Waterston, “Do I need a lawyer?” and him replying, “No, you need an agent!” Not sure if this one has been nominated into the “Good for her!” hall of fame yet, but it ought to be.

(Hyperreal Film Club is hosting a screening of Serial Mom on June 16 at Paramount Theatre).

Tangerine, dir. Sean Baker

Sean Baker is one of the most unique filmmakers in our current-day canon, and before he became an A24 darling with the release of The Florida Project, he released Tangerine. The film centers on trans sex worker Sin-Dee on her journey throughout Los Angeles to find the cis woman her boyfriend cheated on her with. With the intensity of the Safdies’ Good Time and the vérité heart of Baker’s subsequent feature films, Tangerine presents a humanity to its characters that is not often offered to both trans women and sex workers. Baker has become well-known in recent years for his guerilla filmmaking, and Tangerine is no exception. With only a $100,000 budget and three iPhone 5S cameras, Sean Baker creates Sin-Dee and Alexandra’s world that feels lived-in. Possibly the largest contributions to the film’s authenticity are the two main actresses, Kitana Kiki Rodriguez and Mya Taylor, who had no prior acting experience. According to Baker, he met Kitana and Mya at the LGBT Center in Los Angeles and quickly knew they would be the film’s leads, and they along with other members of the LGBT+ community consulted on the script. Tangerine is best enjoyed with some late-night donuts (Mrs. Johnson’s, anybody?).

Imagine Me & You, dir. Ol Parker

Imagine Me & You takes all the rom-com tropes you can think of but makes it lesbian, to a delightful effect. Game of Thrones’ Lena Headey plays Luce, a super hot lesbian florist with an extensive cardigan selection, opposite Coyote Ugly’s Piper Perabo as Rachel, a woman who becomes infatuated with Headey’s character while she’s gay-floristing at her wedding. Because Rachel has just been wed to a man, she is naturally very confused by her obsession with Luce and tries her best to avoid her. However, Rachel’s new husband Hector is determined to set the two up as friends, and their attraction toward each other only grows from there. As someone who adores a tropey rom-com, Imagine Me & You truly ticks all the boxes—the married couple and Luce coincidentally running into each other at every turn, a car chase throughout a metropolitan city, a needle-drop of the song from which the movie gets its title, you name it—but it’s absolutely delightful. While playing into these tropes, though, it still subverts expectations in many ways—mainly that Hector is totally cool with everything and encourages Rachel to do what makes her happy. Although hesitant at first, Rachel’s family eventually comes around to accepting her relationship with Luce. Get the tissues ready for this one. (A side note that I find hilarious: According to the director’s commentary on the DVD release, the film’s original title was Click but had to be changed due to Adam Sandler’s (much less queer) movie of the same name.)

Showgirls, dir. Paul Verhoeven

Frequently hailed as “the worst movie of all time” and the film Kyle McLachlan pretended didn’t exist for years, Showgirls has garnered all kinds of controversy from different places. Like any universally panned movie, Showgirls has accumulated a cult following in recent years—especially from gays. Between an incredibly sexy Gina Gershon as the powerful bisexual star of the topless show Goddess, the wildest sex scene you will ever see, and dialogue so stunted it sounds like ChatGPT wrote it, Showgirls is camp at its finest. As we’ve already seen, we as a community tend to love stories with deranged women, and this movie has two deranged women in a homoerotic power struggle at the forefront! Showgirls did what The Neon Demon thought it was doing in terms of women’s struggles with fleeting youth and beauty, and more successfully explored the inherent homoeroticism within that dynamic. Although Nomi’s character can be a lot between her throwing of fast food and aggressive lap dances, queer fans have seen themselves in her for nearly 30 years. Jeffrey McHale, director of the 2019 documentary film You Don’t Nomi, writes, “Nomi fights to be seen, to be heard, to be recognized. What queer person hasn’t had to do that too?”

Funeral Parade of Roses (薔薇の葬列 Bara no Sōretsu), dir. Toshio Matsumoto

You’ll need to scour the internet or find a screening for this surrealist Japanese drama, but the search will be well worth it. This non-linear, part-meta-interview and part-narrative film, focuses on three trans characters, Eddie, Leda, and Gonda. Depending on which version of the film you watch, the terms used to describe them in the English subtitles may vary—there are some translations that refer to them as “gay boys” or “queens” but the general consensus today is that today we would likely call them trans women. While it’s not the most perfect in terms of representation or language, it’s quite surprising that this film was made during the 60s. The montage of the girls authentically living their lives shopping, eating ice cream, and standing in front of the urinals with their skirts up is just too fun. Interspersed throughout Funeral Parade of Roses are real-life interviews of the cast answering questions about their identity, and by extension giving a human insight into their characters. The unseen interviewer asks real-life Peter (the stage name for androgynous Japanese actor Shinnosuke Ikehata), “What do you think of the main character?” to which she replies, “She’s very similar to me. Not just her lifestyle, but her personality also… In the way that she lives, yes.” Giving a non-judgmental platform to the experiences of both the actors and their characters in the same film ordinarily would seem too adventurous, but here it just works. Funeral Parade is a wild ride from start to finish.

Desert Hearts, dir. Donna Deitch

Desert Hearts has got to be one of the most underrated lesbian movies. Perhaps the biggest charm of the film is how obvious it is on-screen that creating the film was a labor of love—as confirmed by director Donna Deitch. Rather than going the studio route which she knew would not allow her to secure funding for a film adaptation of a lesbian book, she took on the task of raising $1.5M (in 1979!) to produce the film independently. She secured funding from a mix of grants, selling stocks, and various lesbians and women throughout the country, though the primary investor was a gay man (okay, ally!). Deitch published a newsletter to maintain investors’ interest, and even had to sell her home for completion costs, which to be clear - sucks. Independent filmmaking is one of the most difficult things to do, but Deitch was determined to give us lesbians what we needed. As if money wasn’t enough of an issue, again, this was the ‘70s—so finding people to star in a positive portrayal of lesbians presented another obstacle. Several actresses declined to audition or lost interest when they learned of the sex scene, but finally Helen Shaver signed on to play Vivian Bell, a young woman who travels to Reno, Nevada in order to expedite her divorce. There, she meets the stepdaughter of the woman who owns the ranch where to-be divorced women temporarily stay to establish residence, Cay Rivers (played by Patricia Charbonneau). Not only is the scenery of the Nevada desert gorgeous, but Shaver and Charbonneau give incredibly tender performances that make me cry every single time. Seeing a film (particularly from 1985) that doesn’t sensationalize or vilify lesbianism and has a beautiful sex scene is truly breathtaking. Complete with a hauntingly romantic soundtrack from Patsy Cline, Buddy Holly, Ella Fitzgerald and more, the film and director’s uninvolvement with major studios allows the film to portray a completely authentic lesbian romance free from censoring. Giddy up and be prepared to cry.

Saving Face, dir. Alice Lu

If you haven’t picked up on it yet, I love a fun rom-com, and Saving Face is another wonderful lesbian rom-com mixed with a strained mother-daughter relationship. From Alice Lu, the director of Netflix’s lesbian coming-of-age rom-com The Half of It, Saving Face centers around Chinese-American surgeon Wil (played by Michelle Krusiec) and her widowed mother Hwei-Lan (played by the timelessly gorgeous Joan Chen). The two are both harboring big secrets from another—Wil’s being a lesbian, and Hwei-Lan’s being pregnant despite being unmarried and not in a relationship. When Wil starts seeing Vivian (Lynn Chen), Wil is forced to grapple with her internalized homophobia and fear of persecution from her culture and mother. Where a large chunk of LGBT films don’t tackle more intersectional issues, Saving Face successfully explores subjects that are often seen taboo in the characters’ Chinese cultures, Wil’s struggles accepting her sexuality, and the delicate relationships between mothers and daughters in only a 97-minute runtime. Instead of leaning into the Western stereotype that Eastern values are entirely conservative and unchanging, the acceptance that Wil and Vivian ultimately receive from their family flips this stereotype on its head. If you’re a gay person with a strained relationship with your mother, this one will absolutely hit way too close to home.

My Own Private Idaho, dir. Gus Van Sant

Gus Van Sant was giving both the theater kids and emotional queers everything they needed with his adaptation of Shakespeare’s Henry plays featuring the underground world of gay-for-pay sex workers in Portland, Oregon. My Own Private Idaho focuses on the narcoleptic Mikey (River Phoenix) and Scott (Keanu Reeves), the mayor’s son who participates in sex work to rebel against his father. What makes this film particularly special is Van Sant’s unique style of directing–there was no shot list or storyboards for the entire film (a practice Van Sant often employs) and he encouraged the actors to give their own input into both the script and shooting. The campfire scene where Mikey confesses his love to Scott, who reminds him that he is only gay for pay, is one of the best and most heart wrenching scenes in the film. This scene wasn’t initially in the film—River Phoenix wrote the entire scene himself and Van Sant was out of the loop the entire time, but Van Sant trusted Phoenix enough to give him free reign of the scene. With heartfelt scenes like the campfire scene juxtaposed with campy Van Sant-esque scenes like the erotic magazine cover models coming to life, My Own Private Idaho is a deeply unique and heartbreaking film. Also, gay John Wick!

D.E.B.S., dir. Angela Robinson

Another box office flop, you ask? Well, yes! This movie makes absolutely no sense on several levels, but it’s just too good. Well, not good per se, but fun. Why is Devon Aoki’s character French in this? Why would the government secretly embed a test for espionage within the SAT to recruit members for D.E.B.S.? Did RuPaul rip off the abbreviation for D.E.B.S. (Discipline, Energy, Beauty, Strength) for C.U.N.T.? Don’t expect any answers to these questions, but put logic aside and expect a great time! This was the original Killing Eve, centering around top D.E.B.S student Amy (played by nepo baby with questionable politics Sara Foster) and her other spy queens (Devon Aoki, Maegan Good, and Jill Richie) who are put on a mission to surveil international supercriminal Lucy Diamond (played by Jordana Brewster before she sold her soul to Vin Diesel). Despite Amy being assigned to catch Lucy for her crimes (like trying to sink Australia—again, it makes no sense), the two quickly take an interest in each other and become caught up in a game of cat and mouse. Lucy committing crimes to get the attention of Amy so she can catch her is PURE ROMANCE. My fellow lesbians—if your girl’s not doing that, is she really your girl?! Ignoring the fact that D.E.B.S. are kind of cops in this (but Amy intentionally breaks the rules to see Lucy so maybe she’s based?), this movie is pure early-2000s and is a blast.

The Watermelon Woman, dir. Cheryl Dunye

The Watermelon Woman is a fascinating film—it’s written, directed by, and stars Cheryl Dunye, who plays a fictionalized version of herself. The character of Cheryl is a 25 year-old lesbian aspiring filmmaker working in a Philadelphia video store who becomes obsessed with Black actresses who played mammy-like characters in 1930s and 1940s films but were never credited. After watching a film and noticing the Black actress was simply credited as “The Watermelon Woman,” she begins working on a documentary to uncover the identity of the mystery woman. Throughout this journey, she discovers the erased history of Fae Richards and her lesbian relationship with the white director of the film in which she was not credited by name. Although the watermelon woman is a fictionalized character, she is an amalgamation of the erased and forgotten stories of so many women of both lesbian and Black experiences. The film toes the line between fiction and reality yet feels completely authentic. Dunye does an incredible job playing the lead role, and her abilities as a triple threat make this film an incredibly unique one.

10 Movies to Kick Off Pride Month that Aren’t Blue Is The Warmest Color