L ooking back over half a century to the meteoric career of James Dean , the one thing that now seems obvious is that the boy was as queer as a coot. It wouldn't matter a scrap if he hadn't also been groomed to perform vulnerable young male innocence, tormented by inchoate yearnings for heroism, freedom, and true love with the right girl. The studio made sure that he acted it out in real life by supplying him with starlets to be seen with in public. After he wrote himself off, 50 years ago this September, in his new Porsche Spyder at the age of 24 on a highway near Salinas, there was no reality left to intrude on the myth. Robert Altman, then a naive outsider in Hollywood, was given the job of making a black-and-white pseudo-documentary based on the account of Dean's life, fashioned by William Bast, Dean's "closest friend and room-mate for five years".
Under normal circumstances, June busts out all over with Pride Month parties and parades. The gay neighborhood thumps with house music. The conditions are optimal for you to catch up on your queer cinema. The range runs from the shoestring brilliance of The Watermelon Woman to the big-budget glitter-bomb that is Rocketman. While gay characters tended until much too recently to be one-dimensional, white, and doomed, in Barry Jenkins won a Best Picture Oscar telling the layered and hopeful story of a gay Black man in Moonlight.
After his gay cousin dies from hepatitis, young Laurent, who lives with his best friend Carole, falls in love with Cedric, a plant scientist. In a suburb of London, young Jamie is escaping sport hours, to avoid being the victim of his comrades. Young Ste, his neighbor, is beaten by his father, and comes to sleep overnight. They discover new feelings, sleeping in the same bed. Quick note:….