Rainbow Rising

Randy Rainbow

Political satirist talks about life beyond his spoofs and what it’s like to offer levity during intense times
By Chris Azzopardi

There are far worse things happening in the world, clearly, but political-parody sensation Randy Rainbow does have a bone to pick with some folks. And this time, it’s not with Marjorie Taylor Greene. Not even with Donald Trump.

“I’m throwing my team the hell under the bus,” he joked on camera, after jumping on Zoom last minute when he was reminded of our interview, which was “on everyone’s calendar but mine.”

“I was getting ready to take a bubble bath,” he said, “but I’m happy to be with you.”

At the time of our interview in April, Rainbow was making his press rounds to chat about his debut memoir, “Playing with Myself.” The humanizing book recounts his life growing up as an imaginative and misunderstood boy, before he became known for his playful digs at right-wing figures, reworking famous Broadway songs to poke at the sheer insanity of those making really terrible political decisions. We meet Nanny, his adoring late grandmother; we go back to the video that launched his viral career, when he pretend-called Mel Gibson; we learn about his comedy-meets-Broadway origins and how it became a full-blown career, earning him three Emmy nominations and famous fans such as Patti LuPone and even, yes, Carol Burnett.

I was talking to a friend about interviewing you and he said, “Will he sing?” 

Why would I just sing? See, this is the fake news on me. Everyone thinks I’m a lunatic who bursts into song.

Why would you just sing? Perhaps because you’ve built a career on it, I don’t know. 

True. If we were out having a couple of drinks, I probably would be singing constantly and you would tell me to shut up. But not always.

In addition to LGBTQ+ fans, you’ve got a lot of mom fans. 

They hit on me. It’s inappropriate.

They haven’t learned consent, apparently.

Mothers don’t know consent. I take it as a compliment. I see it as a Barry Manilow/Liberace kind of thing.

So the book: You are extremely vulnerable in it, and I just want to tell you that I appreciate you sharing intimate parts of your life with us. I have a real appreciation for the fact that you went to some complex and complicated places. With your family, especially.

I’m glad I got on the Zoom today, because that’s really nice to hear and I appreciate that. I did go to some vulnerable places. I was certainly more raw than I’ve ever been before publicly. 

Was there a moment where you decided that, “If I’m going to write a book, I need to tell that part of the story to tell my full story”? And if so, when was that moment in the process for you?

From the beginning, I had every intention of being as vulnerable and as real as I could muster. People have been so generous with their praises — mothers across the country. And everyone who has written to me over the years, especially the last five years, and has come to my show and my meet-and-greets, they’re so generous with their praise and… gratitude is the word.

They thank me for getting them through. Getting them through Trump, getting them through the pandemic, getting them through their own personal struggles, and they offer their emotional selves up to me, and in a way that’s so real. And I realized that’s so nice, but it’s not really a two-way street at this moment, because these people only know the two-dimensional persona that they’ve come to know, which is certainly a part of me.

But they don’t really know that I am a complicated person who has my own insecurities, and flaws, and heartbreaks, and has faced my own adversities in life. So I wanted to really seize the moment and, as a gift to those followers who have been with me for years and to myself, to really come out and put it out there on the table.

What do mothers of LGBTQ+ kids tell you? 

I meet so many mothers. So many of them come to my live shows, and a lot of them bring their little kids who sometimes dress up like me and they look like Liza Minnelli, and they’ve got the bows and the pink glasses. And they say a variety of things, one of which is lovely: “Thank you for being a role model to my child as someone who is unabashedly being himself.” 

And then sometimes at the meet-and-greets they ask: “My son is behaving this way and I want to support him or her or them. What is your advice?” I’m not an expert on the subject, but I do know that I had a mother who, in my opinion, did the perfect thing, which was create a safe environment for me to be whatever it is I was wanting to be. She didn’t push [me] one way or the other, she didn’t make it her own thing. She just simply provided a safe space, and to me, that’s the best advice I can offer any mother with a little boy or girl like I was. I hope that some of those mothers will read this and get something valuable from it.

This is your first book. So what was it like? Did you get up in the middle of the night with a thought and write a whole chapter at 3 a.m.? And how did it compare to writing your musical parodies?

Yes to all that. I don’t have to tell you: As a writer, you walk around with these things just popping into your head. So yes, there was a lot of jumping up at 2 or 3 o’clock in the morning and taking lots of notes. I found the experience to be a lot of things. It was much more emotional than I thought it would be; I was crying a lot through the good and bad.

These are the memories that have been lighting the corners of my minds, to quote Barbra, for many years, but I never had an opportunity to really flush them out and put them down on paper. So it was very cathartic, very emotional, fun, I loved it, and different in that it was the first time I had done any sort of real autobiographical writing. So that was a pleasure. 

Again, one of the most satisfying things about this is that I can say if you love me… because some people love me, some people hate me, and my first thought when someone says anything positive or negative on social media or anywhere else is it’s interesting because you don’t know me yet. You actually don’t know me. So here’s a little bit of the real me, and then decide. Now you can really hate me. Or love me. Choose. But if you’re judging, again, that two-dimensional, scripted, campy persona, then you don’t know the full story yet.

And there’s an entire chapter for those who are still hating you because of tweets you sent in 2010 and 2011 that were deemed racist and homophobic, which you apologized for. 

There’s plenty of sunshine and Santa Claus in this book, meaning I talk a lot about the happy things and the joy and excitement and fun and positive, but that was something that was not so fun or positive that I went through. And I wanted to talk about it because it’s a topic that I’m interested in. I’m interested in that conversation, and I now have a personal perspective that I didn’t have before. So I wanted to add that to the public conversation. It’s not a 15-page mea culpa, it’s not a whole apology, because I’ve apologized for what I’ve wanted to apologize for.

It was humbling, I learned a lot, but as I say in the end, I can’t wrap it up neatly. It’s a very nuanced discussion, especially coming from someone who is a comedian and doesn’t like putting restrictions on art. 

Given what happened the night that Will Smith attacked Chris Rock on stage at the Oscars after Chris’s joke, does it make you concerned at all for the state of comedy? It was Kathy Griffin who recently expressed concerns about others following in Will’s footsteps when a joke is made that someone doesn’t like. 

That is a concern of mine, but I don’t know if it started that night. I think that we’re in a very weird place, and people are angry and taking their aggressions out in places that it really doesn’t belong. 

We’re in such a horrible place in the world and there’s war going on and pandemics, and it’s just a really heavy time. And I felt bad for a country who tuned in to get a little levity and escape for a couple of hours, and had to see this hero, this person that they idolize… I certainly am a Will Smith fan. They had to see him attack another idol and another hero of ours. That was just so sad to me. It was just sad that we couldn’t get that little escape that we just wanted so badly.

You said that you were concerned before this even happened about performing your own political comedy. 

People ask me all the time, “Are you concerned about that?” I am satirical and I spoof. My satire certainly leans in one direction. But it’s something I try not to really overthink because what can you do?

I wonder if it’s easier for people to digest your comedy since it’s filtered through an almost cartoonish lens.

I think I hope so. It’s my opinion that I’m tackling these topics in the most innocuous way possible with show tunes. So it interests me when people get really ticked off by any of my work. I have to question their intentions because it’s like, “Are you really that incensed about a song from ‘The Music Man’?” People are really interested in being angry these days.

Going back to the book, what was the most emotional topic for you to write about?

Certainly anything to do with my grandmother, my Nanny, was very emotional. 

She’s in the book a lot. It’s not only a beautiful tribute to her, but to unconditional love and what that can mean to somebody.

You have to write the foreword for the paperback edition. You’re saying such nice things and things that I hoped came through, and that’s so nice. And she does pop up in the book, these cosmic entrances that she makes. Things that I hadn’t even thought about until I was writing about emotional things. 

When I talk about my cat dying at the beginning of the pandemic, Nanny made her presence known, I believe, in moments like those too. That cat chapter — I feel there should be a disclaimer to the pet people in my audience.

I have been hearing from a lot of the readers who are cat or pet people who say that it’s brutal and hard to get through, which I like. That means to me that I did it right. Because it was a brutal experience because we locked down, and then my cat, the only other soul that I was sharing this experience with, got sick two days later. So that was hard. But the happy ending is I got a new cat and she’s sitting right here judging me like a bitch.

Chris Azzopardi is the Editorial Director of Pride Source Media Group and Q Syndicate, the national LGBTQ+ wire service. He has interviewed a multitude of superstars, including Cher, Meryl Streep, Mariah Carey and Beyoncé. His work has also appeared in The New York Times, Vanity Fair, GQ and Billboard. Reach him via Twitter @chrisazzopardi.

Neil Patrick Harris’s Penis Problem

Neil Patrick Harris

The actor on ‘Uncoupled’ and his ‘digital dong’ in ‘Gone Girl’
By Chris Azzopardi

It wasn’t that it was hard, but when Neil Patrick Harris shot a scene for the new Netflix series “Uncoupled,” in which his character tries to snap just the right Grindr shots, it was a little… hairy.

It was “taking angles” and “making sure that you didn’t show your stuff in certain positions” that Harris says was “interesting.”

“We had to find what my ‘d actually looks like,’” said the actor, throwing up air quotes while on Zoom to promote the series.

In “Uncoupled,” Harris’s Michael, a married Manhattanite, has the rug pulled out from under him when his husband of 17 years, portrayed by Tuc Watkins (“Desperate Housewives,” “Boys in the Band”), suddenly decides to end things. Michael quickly learns that, for a single gay man in his mid-40s living in New York City, he’s a little behind the ball when it comes to contemporary queer culture. Openly gay TV rom-com mogul Darren Star, who created “Sex and the City” and “Younger,” helmed “Uncoupled” with Jeffrey Richman, so naturally there’s a fair amount of gay sex.

But, as Michael learns, in order to get some taps, you’ve gotta show the goods on social media. Harris’s bare bottom is prominently featured during the episode, though it was the front of his body that resulted in heated discussions and debates.

“My modesty’s fine; I wasn’t that nervous about that,” he admitted. “You have this weird contraption around your actual genitals so no one can see it, but I didn’t want Netflix execs or the editors to see this, like, weird pouch thing, and the camera couldn’t see that either.”
In other words, situating a penis just right is a complicated affair on set. So complicated that, when he went to his trailer the day of the shoot and found “two flaccid rubber phalluses on my desk,” it was time to get the producers involved.

“They were like small and weird, and I think something people used to pack themselves, like drag kings, but it didn’t look very flattering and I sort of said, ‘I don’t want this! I don’t want you to take a picture of this!’”

Specifically — because who wouldn’t want every single last detail? — Harris described the phalluses as “latex, pale, single-colored thing[s].”

And if you ever wondered what it’s like to work on a set of a show in which the penis of your character is up for debate, wonder no more: “We had a nice text thread with the producers,” he recalled. “‘What about this photo if we crop it? And what about this? It was the filthiest thing of all. ‘Too big, too thick, too long.’ I was like, ‘Come on!’ But we kind of met in the middle.”

As for the new-and-improved, NPH-approved penis pics? Still on his phone, he says. Though not for long because his two kids with Michigan-born husband David Burtka, Harper and Gideon, could possibly see them when they go through his phone.
“I really do need to erase those pictures off my phone,” he said.

In other Neil Patrick Harris penis news: He had you fooled in “Gone Girl,” and contrary to popular belief, what you saw down there wasn’t the real thing.

“We’re at the New York Film Fest, and we’re about to do the red carpet, and [director] David Fincher, when we’re all saying hello, turns to me and goes ‘Oh, by the way: We added a digital dick to your thing so just so you know, it’s not yours. It’s digital.’ I was like, ‘Is it nice?’”

Harris knows that, perhaps, you were misled: “I think people think they might have actually seen my dong on ‘Gone Girl,’ but that was a digital dong.’”
On behalf of NPH, sorry for the confusion.

Bowen Yang’s First Gay Film

Bowen Yang

Bowen on Fire (Island)
He’s here, he’s queer, and now the‘SNL’ juggernaut is the lead in his very first (very gay) film
By Chris Azzopardi

Maybe Bowen Yang will just forever live the Fire Island fantasy wherever he is. Is that what happens when you make a movie in what many consider gay paradise? Who knows, but based on Yang’s attire on Zoom — a beaded, rainbow-colored flower necklace and a casual white-and-blue checkered shirt, his white undershirt exposed — the Australian-born Chinese American actor looks ready to challenge the rich, white gays known for essentially claiming the queer party town, just off the southern shore of Long Island, New York, as their own.

But not in Hulu’s “Fire Island,” a movie that can make us believe it isn’t exclusive to any group as a boatload of intersectional queers — the main friend group is refreshingly Asian American and Black — sail away to the island for more than just wild nights and romantic seashore walks. They know what they’re getting into — drugs, drinking, and all those white gays — and they’re the kind of besties who know exactly what’s on everyone’s Fire Island agenda.

For some, obviously, that’s a little more than a snuggle. For Howie, though, that _is_ a snuggle. Yang plays Howie, and his very good friend Noah (Joel Kim Booster, who wrote the script as a modern retelling of “Pride and Prejudice”) knows that Howie won’t ever be the slut he wants him to be. That, of course, doesn’t stop him from trying to whore out Howie. After all, that’s just what good friends do! “You’re cute, you’re funny, you’re consistently the least repellent of men out of all of us,” he tells Howie, earnestly.

The same could be said of Yang, who’s gained an avid following since he started writing for “Saturday Night Live” in 2018. Just a year later, when he was promoted to featured cast member, he made history as the first-ever Chinese American cast member (and third openly gay male cast member after Terry Sweeney and John Milhiser).

In a recent conversation, Yang chatted about being a leading man for the first time, not being recognized in a West Hollywood gay bar recently, and infusing his own signature queer flavor into “Saturday Night Live.”

Every time I watch a queer movie, I just wish it existed sooner.

Is that like our lot in audience life? I think we’re just gonna think that for everything. For me, and I don’t mean to undermine this thought, but even if it’s a perfectly fine-to-bad queer movie — not saying that our movie is those things — but add it to the pile!

So the whole time I was watching “Fire Island,” I wanted to know how you got cast as Howie, the non-slutty character? Specifically the non-slutty part.

I think Joel was doing this great thing, which is to map it onto our friendship a bit while also mapping it onto the source material of “Pride and Prejudice” and having it be like Jane and Liz. But then also just outlining the ways that a lot of queer people, and maybe specifically gay men, might not share an organizing principle in that way. Like, there are some people who really go for it and just catch as many Pokémon as they can, so to speak, and there are some who choose not to.

I mean, in my 20s I was definitely a Howie.

Oh, and then that shifted?

It did shift. And it feels good.

Great. I think maybe that’s in store for me.

In 105 minutes, this film takes on body positivity, prejudiced gays, horny gays, non-horny gays, infighting… . Was there a lot of conversation about what this movie would cover?

I mean, if you create a liberated space for people, then their thoughts might kind of reach just a bit beyond the pale in a setting outside of that. And so I think Joel’s whole thesis for the movie is “what happens when gay people go to an all-gay space, and then gay people start to bring all their societal baggage onto each other and turn it inward.”

I think he did a great job of balancing all those things. I think he just recognized that Fire Island is this wonderful stew pot full of different kinds of people, and that you get all these different elements to that when everyone co-mingles in that way.

I love that there’s a group of queer people of color who are just like, “Gonna sail over, and you know? This is also our place.”

Yeah. And in my experience going there — and I go at least once a year, every summer — it is weirdly still a given that you’re gonna see that it’s a bit dominated by one kind of person.

I’m always really delighted by the people I see there who are there driven by the same sort of mission of just spending time with their queer friends. Going to the beach, just getting away from all the things that sort of bog them down on the mainland.

Did you see “Wine Country”?

I did, yes.

So was this your “Wine Country”?

Oh my god, I guess so. All “Fire Island” was missing was a Brené Brown cameo. I think the nice thing about this is that it’s like a vacation comedy, obviously, and a rom-com, but I think the way that Joel wanted to map it onto “Pride and Prejudice” is such an ingenious thing. It’s about the way people relate to each other. It’s about the ways that we stratify each other, or relate to each other based on class, wealth or, in this case, race.

With “Wine Country,” Amy Poehler had said the film was basically a trip those same girls had taken many times before. Had any of you already experienced “Fire Island” together?

Yes, yes. We have. Me, Joel and Matt Rogers had gone in the past. And the idea came out of Joel and I going the first time together. This was 2015, where he brought a copy of “Pride and Prejudice” to the island. And then he and I were reading by the pool one day, and he just turns to me and goes, “This would make a good movie. The way that people judge each other is similar. The way that there are all these social gatherings that people sort of get worked up about, it’s all there.”

In some ways, the idea predates the established dynamic that Joel, Matt and I have had there. But I feel like it’s [in] a similar vein in that it’s loosely based on these trips that we’ve taken together. It’s similar to our experiences going there in terms of like, we would go there when we could barely afford it. We [were] 18 people to a three-bedroom house, those kind of “roughing it” early experiences.

Did you, Joel and Matt also meet at a brunch like your characters in the movie did?

We did not meet at a brunch. It was at a much more boring place, honestly. And it’s hard to get more boring than brunch.

I’ve never been to Fire Island, but I think I may be more of a P-town gay.

Listen, I am about to go there for the first time this summer. And part of me is a little scared that I’m gonna be a turncoat and just fully, like, be a P-town gay for the rest of my life.

What can you say about your part in the upcoming major-studio gay summer rom-com “Bros”?

I have a really fun part in that. My character, ironically, lives in Provincetown, so not Fire Island. That might be all I can say. But I think they’ve been showing clips of it at different events, and it’s getting a really good reception. I really hope people — I’m sure people will see it. There’s such a great team behind it, and Billy [Eichner, co-writer and star] is just so wonderful. He was so great to work with. I was sort of a day player. I just popped in for a day in between shows at “SNL.” So I was a little disoriented. But it was just such a lovely experience, and I felt very lucky that I got to do that in addition to “Fire Island,” to be a little witness to all these great [LGBTQ+] movies that are being made.

Was “Fire Island” a loose shoot? You are all so naturally funny, so were there moments of improvisation, and did any of those make the final cut? 

Plenty of moments of improv made it into the final cut. From, like, Matt specifically. From me, from everybody. I think everybody [added] a little sprinkling in there. Overall, what’s remarkable about that set was that there wasn’t too much breaking. We weren’t out to make each other laugh or crack up. I think we were all there to hit our marks and do the job well. Because it was a very intense situation. A lot of us, you know, [this was] one of our early jobs doing a feature. And I think we all just were kind of focused on delivering. So maybe in the future, if we all work together again, it’ll be a little bit looser. But it was pretty regimented. We were all very good students, I would say.

Your film career is really taking off, which is exciting. And you got to really create a character for this.

I know. This is one of my first experiences doing that.

What was that like for you?

Really nice. I learned so much. And I think this is one of those jobs that I think will carry into future projects, if I’m so lucky to have them. I mean, James Scully, who plays Charlie, and I… this is my first time having a love interest in something. And he’s someone who is experienced enough as an actor to know how to make that believable onscreen. So we just had a lot of discussions about how to portray that and what these characters would be like after they left the island and what that journey is.

James had the idea to make a playlist. He was like, “Let’s make the playlist the character would make for the other character.” And that was perfect tone-setting. Like, these are two very sweet people who are sweet despite everything around them telling them there’s no place for sweetness. That this is about debauchery only. And even at the end of the movie, there’s an open-ended question about whether or not these people will even end up together after they leave the island. And what happens then? But these are two characters who aren’t concerned with that, who aren’t really worried about what’s gonna happen afterwards. Whether it ends badly or well, they just are very present in their connection to each other.

I’m glad you say that because those trips to me often feel like they’re suited for that sort of experience — for a little weekend romance.

I think the movie does that very well in the end where, again, it’s that open-ended thing. And I don’t think a lot of rom-coms in general do that. It’s a very realistic, authentic sort of representation of that concept. Like, “Maybe this is just a vacation boyfriend. But it’s OK. I’ll still enjoy it.” It’s still a love story, you know? There’s something really powerful about acknowledging that reality for a lot of people. I think there’s a subtextual thing there in the movie where it’s like, “This is how gay people live, and this is why they come to the island, to experience that, to have the possibility of experiencing that.” And then if they do, then what happens?

Whose idea was it to sneak in the reference to the “Gays in Space” sketch, which aired on “Saturday Night Live” in 2015?

That was Joel. I promise it wasn’t me. I just never pushed back. It was in every draft of the script, and I never pushed back on it. And I was like, it’s so on the nose of me as Bowen saying to a character that he loves “SNL.”

But that was a Joel line. And we just kept it in there. But then it got me thinking, like, OK, if Howie and I are similar, in what ways are we similar? Howie doesn’t work at “SNL,” but if I didn’t work at “SNL,” I would probably bring that up, too, at a party, if I was getting to know someone. And there was something somewhat authentic about that. I think Joel was going for that sort of authenticity. It was just, What would Bowen say through the lens of this character?

While we’re on the topic of “SNL,” I have you to thank, in part, at least, for making a show I grew up with and loved a much queerer experience for me.

Oh, that’s very nice. But yes, there are so many other people to thank. It’s people like James Anderson who wrote “Gays in Space,” who left somewhat recently. Kate McKinnon, obviously, Chris Kelly, who made “The Other Two.” Paula Pell of “Wine Country.” There’s been this pretty rich lineage of queer people at “SNL.” I think now there are more things to index and reference, and I’m just very happy to be a small part of it.

Historically, yes, there are other skits that were queer. But it definitely feels like it’s become much queerer in more recent years.

I think we talk about how “SNL” has always been this variety show in the truest sense. There’s something for everyone, or at least there’s something different in every sketch. And certainly, with Kate being there, it’s given people a model for how you infuse queerness into a sketch.

Julio Torres working there around the same time I did was just such a fortuitous thing for me because I was able to understand, “Oh, I can write something.” When I first started writing there, I was trying to fit into the mold of an “SNL” sketch. I was trying to write a game show sketch or a commercial parody. And then, when Julio and I started working together, he was like, “No, you can do whatever you want. You can make something that’s from your point of view. That makes the show better.”

Do you have an example of something you wrote from your own POV because of Julio’s influence on you?

One of the first sketches I wrote for the show was called “Cheques.” It was a commercial for checks, like these dramatic, soap operatic women just signing checks for misdeeds. That was something Julio and I co-wrote together. We co-wrote this sketch called “Sara Lee” with Harry Styles, who’s this social media manager who writes all these thirsty gay captions for Instagram. That was Julio’s idea, and it wouldn’t have happened without Julio’s assuredness in his own point of view. And it kind of gave me this example to follow, so that by the time he left, I was like, “I guess I can do that on my own, right?”

So yeah, you think all the way back to Terry Sweeney in the ’80s who was doing stuff at a time when gay men were completely stigmatized at every level [in] society. I think there’s been a queer sort of helix in the show for as long as it’s been on.

What about the “Pride Month Song” sketch from last year? What’s the story behind that?

I co-wrote that with Sudi Green and Celeste Yim. Just really funny writers. Queer writers. And we just were talking about how there is this pretty widely acknowledged reality now that I just don’t think we’ve seen on TV of how Pride is kind of exhausting. And it’s kind of not what you expect it to be: You think it’s gonna be this amazing thing and it actually ends up being really stressful and logistically a nightmare and someone has a meltdown at some point. You know, those are the realities of Pride. And there’s still something joyful about that, even so. And maybe that’s the thing that we kind of look forward to every year. So yeah, that’s where it came out of. And I was, like, listening to Charli XCX’s “Girls Night Out,” and I was like, “Let’s just map it onto this beat.”

Well, that’s your POV, right?  

My POV! Yeah. She counts.

It seems you’ve become a big name in such a short amount of time. How have you processed what I think is a relatively meteoric rise to notoriety these last few years? 

I got really lucky in terms of an incremental, segmented ramp-up, maybe? For me, so far, it’s been manageable at every level. Starting out doing stuff in New York, you kind of are putting yourself out there more and more with every show and every year that you do it. And then Matt and I started this podcast [“Las Culturistas”] together. That kind of got people who didn’t live in New York knowing who we were and connecting with what we were doing. And then going on “SNL,” obviously, kind of broke that open. But I think I’ve gotten some sort of training wheel taken off and there’s multiple sets of training wheels, I guess, in this metaphor. But I think I’ve gotten really nicely acculturated to that. And I’m very grateful.

Can you step into a gay bar in West Hollywood without being conscious of, “I know that there will be eyes on me because I’m Bowen Yang”?

It occurs to me that that might be the case, but I went to Hi Tops recently in LA, in West Hollywood, and was ignored at the bar. And I was like, “This is great.” Not that this was great but I was like, “See, there’s something very democratizing about going to a queer space like that where you’re like, ‘That’s why I go: to feel like a part of something.’” There hasn’t been anything fundamentally different about my reality, which I think is really nice, actually.

What do you want the future of your film career to look like?

I hope I get to just do a nice variety of things, across different genres probably. I feel like we’re about to get hit with a bunch of rom-coms, and I wouldn’t mind just staying in that lane for as long as possible.

I’m keeping an open mind because people have been asking me if I expected to be leading a rom-com ever. I was like, “No, no way.” And so I think me sort of keeping my expectations pretty sparse is kind of setting myself up for some delightful stuff in the future. I don’t really have a vision for what that is yet. And I think that’s OK.

Chris Azzopardi is the Editorial Director of Pride Source Media Group and Q Syndicate, the national LGBTQ+ wire service. He has interviewed a multitude of superstars, including Cher, Meryl Streep, Mariah Carey and Beyoncé. His work has also appeared in The New York Times, Vanity Fair, GQ and Billboard. Reach him via Twitter @chrisazzopardi.

Cavetown talks new projects, musical evolution and war on trans people

Cavetown: Transgender & Asexual Spectrum Artist

Sense and Sensitivity
Cavetown talks new projects, musical evolution and war on trans people
By Lawrence Ferber

As YouTube, social media, and self-released music platform Bandcamp grew in popularity, musicians could create music and garner followings from their own bedrooms: hence “bedroom pop” was born, and so was the career of UK-born, 23-year-old singer/songwriter/producer Robin Skinner (he/they), aka Cavetown.

Currently embarked on a dense, largely sold out U.S. tour through late spring with international dates to follow, the openly transgender Cavetown — who also falls somewhere on the aromantic and asexual spectrum — recently followed up his 2021 EP, “Man’s Best Friend,” with the single “Fall In Love With A Girl.” The song is a collaboration with Filipino-British next gen guitar hero beabadoobee, about “someone who’s struggling with their sexuality and how that affects their happiness,” Skinner explained in a press release. “This person is scared to take the leap to make themselves happy and tries to make things work in a hetero relationship. When they finally take the step to be in a same-sex relationship, they realize how happy it makes them and that it’s OK to trust yourself.”

Cavetown’s journey began at age 14, when Skinner uploaded his first original song, “Haunted Lullaby,” to YouTube, which, seemingly on brand for bedroom pop, boasts a ukulele (he’s swiveled more to guitars lately, plus gorgeous, richly melodic hooks and well-produced harmonies on even his most lilting tracks). A 2015 self-titled, self-released full length album scored acclaim and a quickly growing audience — which, today, includes eight million monthly Spotify listeners, over two million YouTube subscribers, and more than a billion global streams. At the same time, Skinner also kept busy dropping covers of songs by Twenty One Pilots, Elvis Presley, Ed Sheeran and Justin Bieber between subsequent singles, EP and LP releases (most can be found on Cavetown’s Bandcamp), including his 2020 major label debut on Sire Records, “Sleepyhead.”

Taking a break from tour rehearsals, Skinner fielded email questions about his new single, his musical evolution, touring, insect wars, other awesome non-binary/trans bedroom pop artists and the GOP’s war against trans people.

To get it out of the way, where did the stage name Cavetown come from?

I wish I had an interesting answer, but I came up with it when I was like 12 or 13, just because it sounded cool! I’m very grateful that it still sounds cool to me and didn’t end up being something cringey.

Was there an opportunity to do something new on Fall In Love With A Girl that you havent before?

Working with beabadoobee was something new, which I was super stoked to get to do! Her voice works so well in the song, and I had a great time recording with her and mixing her vocals, as well as [musician] Jacob Bugden’s synths and drums. I pretty much just work in Logic and haven’t really explored any cool plugins or hardware, so it was sick to watch Jacob do his thing with the synths he brought. There’s so much unique stuff you can do with external hardware, but finding where to start seems so overwhelming.

You dont shy away from being vulnerable and intimate in your lyrics. For example, in 2020, you told Billboard, I write songs about things that I find hard to talk about in person with people. Which song from your most recent EP, Mans Best Friend, is the most personal for you?

“Sharpener” is definitely the most personal and one that I’m really proud of. Sonically, I started by taking inspiration from one of my really old songs, “I Promise I’m Trying” [from the EP Nervous Friends: Pt. 1], which has maintained a special place in my heart since I wrote it in 2015. They both come from a similar subject matter of struggling with your mental health and looking for a way to ask for help while also finding it hard to leave behind the coping mechanisms you’ve relied on for a while.

How would you describe your musical evolution since 2015?

It’s hard for me to identify how my songwriting has changed, but my production has definitely improved a lot, and I just hope that it continues to do so.

Have you recorded some songs over the years that youre saving for a future release, or, like Prince and Paddy McAloon of Prefab Sprout, will keep in a vault forever?

No full songs that I can think of, but I have a ton of half-finished project files that I forgot about or got bored of. They’re great to keep for inspiration when I’m feeling stuck. Quite a few of my songs, like “Guilty” and “Boys Will Be Bugs,” came from unfinished projects that I originally got stuck with or thought I would be scrapping.

And what other projects are in the works that you can say something about?

I don’t know if I can share much, but I’m working on dipping my toesies into some film scoring.

There seems to be a proliferation of fantastic non-binary and trans-identified bedroom pop artists lately, including Kali, Khai Dreams and Addision Grace, your opening act on your current tour. What is it about that genre thats so perfect for you, and did I miss any artists youd add to that list?

I feel like I just fit so comfortably into bedroom pop as someone who’s always felt so protective over my production. I’ve always produced everything myself from home and plan on keeping it that way forever. And my friend Allie Cuva, aka allie, makes some stunning music, and an artist I played a show with a long time ago called NoSo has some of the most mesmerizing guitar skills I’ve seen in person. Highly recommend.

You performed at Lollapalooza in 2021. How was that experience?

It was cool! Definitely quite nerve-racking, as it felt very foreign to be around so many people after the pandemic, but we managed to stay as isolated as possible. The most memorable moment for me was watching a cicada and a bee falling from a tree while fighting. The cicada was screaming and I witnessed it die on the ground. [sad emoticon]

What separates touring the USA from touring your native UK and other countries?

The crowd is pretty consistent all over the world, which is really nice! Ninety-nine percent of the time everyone is super sweet and respectful, which is really comforting because it feels like I’m just going out into a room full of my buddies no matter where in the world I am. The biggest difference is definitely the travel time. The USA is huge. I’m very privileged to be able to travel in a bus and sleep through most of the long drives.

Any cities you love the most, or cant wait to visit on this current tour?

I’m really excited to spend more time in San Diego, Seattle and Toronto.

Have you been to Detroit before, and if so, any anecdotes you can share?

I have! I was in Detroit during that polar vortex a few years ago visiting [fellow singer/songwriter/YouTuber] Chloe Moriondo. I’ve never been so cold in my life; it straight up felt like my lungs were gonna freeze. I remember getting into Chloe’s car, and there was a bottle of soap in the cupholder that was frozen solid.

Republicans and GOP leaders are attacking trans people through hateful state bills right now and plan to make this a culture war point for the 2022 election. Are you aware of it, and any thoughts or words of inspiration to share with people who live in those states?

I hate to say that it’s not a surprising thing to see happening. I try not to read too much on stuff like this because I just end up feeling so powerless as an individual, but it’s important to remember how enormous, loving and active our community is. Just keep sticking by your friends and being unapologetically yourself. Things will always be OK in the end, and if they aren’t OK, then it’s not the end.

More than Moana

Auli'i Cravalho

More Than Moana 
Auli’i Cravalho on her new bisexual role, her first Pride and coming out on TikTok
By Chris Azzopardi

It’s still open to interpretation whether Moana is on the queer spectrum, but Auli’i Cravalho, who voiced the Disney princess, can assure you of one thing — she’s a proud bisexual. The 21-year-old actress portrays her first openly LGBTQ+ character in “Crush,” a Hulu Original Film with lesbian love at its center. Cravalho, as track-team runner AJ, plays an instrumental part — saying anything else would give too much away — in the teen rom-com about the unexpected twists and turns in high school romance. Donning a plaid Coach coat, which she was wearing “proudly for the rest of the day on this couch” since it wasn’t hers, Cravalho talked on video about inspiring LGBTQ+ youth to be themselves, her message to major corporations like Disney when it comes to queer issues, and what about her first Pride event she’s most looking forward to. 

As somebody older than you, I can say how proud it makes me to see people in the queer community be part of these movies. These movies did not exist when I was a teenager, so I can only imagine what it means to queer youth when they see not only themselves in these characters but people who are queer playing them.

Thank you. It felt really important to me, as well. I remember reading the script, and I was, for one, honored because I haven’t really played a queer role before. I do identify as bisexual, so it felt important, also, that my character was written in that way. It was really nice to have a rom-com that focused on teens that was positive and sex-positive. And also, not being focused on a coming out story, because we are so much more than just sexuality. It felt really refreshing. I was very happy to play AJ.

You’ve answered my next question, which was: What appealed to you most about this movie when you got the script?

I was just happy that it was a good script, first and foremost. But also, then I learned that the writers, Kirsten King and Casey Rackham, are also queer. And then, to top it off, our director, Sammi Cohen, is also queer. It felt so good, and after reading the script, it made sense. I was, like, “Oh, see, this is why the jokes land. And this is why the Gen Z humor is so on the nose, because we’re making fun of ourselves, and it’s funny!”

Working with so many people from the LGBTQ+ community, did you feel at home? 

Yeah. It’s really fun. I mean, just to know that we are making something that I’ve learned affects how people are treated in real life. So, to show films that are more diverse, inclusive, sex-positive — it broadens our audience’s minds, and I think we all knew that.But then, also, we’re all young. It’s a young cast, and we all got to, somewhat, [hang out] during a pandemic, because this is a pandemic film. I was skateboarding with some people because that’s what my character does, and I fell down a lot. It was just fun to be included in a cast that knew the importance of the film.

AJ is into girls, but do we know how she identifies? 

Yes, we do. AJ is a proud bisexual just like me.

How do you relate to her? 

I, for this role, practiced running, which is strange to say, but I did have to practice how to run. [Laughs.] I also took a few skateboarding lessons and drove myself to the skate park, and I fell down a lot. Like, truthfully, that really bruised my pride. It was important for me to do that, because that connected me more so to AJ, as someone who is a perfectionist. She wants to be on her A-game, always, in school, as far as grades are concerned, as well as with the track team. She is co-head of the track team.Then what we come to find out is she has this really strong inclination to art, and she draws. To be a perfectionist in your art is so common, but also so damaging because, at least for myself, when I make art, I’m like, “It’s not ready yet. It’s not ready to be seen.” Sometimes I wonder if it will ever be ready to be seen. These were traits that, suddenly, I understood, because I am also a perfectionist. 

In 2020, you came out on TikTok as bisexual. Did you expect that news to make the splash that it did?

 It was crazy! It was in the beginning of the pandemic, when no one had anything else to talk about. And I was like, “I’m gonna lip sync this Eminem song on TikTok at 3 a.m. with my mom literally snoring in the background.” It blew up. So, that was strange [laughs]. But I never felt the need to come out. Like, you don’t have to make a really big announcement to know who you are. And, for me, that’s how it was. I’ve always known that I like girls. Girls smell good, and they are soft, and I know how to talk to girls; that’s just something that comes naturally to me. So, if anyone relates to that, that’s your coming out story to yourself. When you have that conversation with yourself, that’s all it has to be.

Do your queer fans still come up to you or reach out to you on Twitter and talk about it, and what do they say?

Yeah! They said they’re impacted that I did that. I didn’t realize the impact, but now I do. Because it’s representation, and that’s what it comes down to. It’s seeing yourself on screen and more than it was important for myself, it was important for others to know that it was OK. 

Sometimes we’re just in our bubbles. For me, I’m surrounded by queer people all the time. But we have to keep in mind that some 12-year-old boy in small-town Kansas City might not have any queer friends, so the only people he has is someone like you.

Yeah, well said. And it truly is that, and I forget. I forget I’m 21, you know what I mean? To have an impact like that, it makes my heart swell. I’m truly so grateful.

What did you make of the “Moana is bisexual” headlines after you came out?

I also find that amusing. What is written and how it is portrayed, and then how the public takes it or how one person interprets it, is entirely their own. That’s what’s super special about it. A lot of movies are queer coded. A lot of characters are camp. 

Representation has changed so much in the last few years, and what I love about “Crush” is that it is just casually queer. Are those the sort of queer characters that appeal to you?

I think this ties back into: I am bisexual. I identify as queer. And every character that I play, moving forward, is an extension of me. And so my vibrancy and my experiences shape how I play a certain character. So, in the future, I absolutely want to play characters that are outwardly queer. But, even if they aren’t, I think the way that I interpret scripts will always be my own. And all my characters are gonna be a little bit like this, because I’m a little bit like this. I don’t know how to say it in words.

That all your roles get filtered through a queer lens?Yes! I think filtered through a queer lens is such a better way of putting it. Beautiful words.

There’s been talk about Disney for years and LGBTQ+ representation within Disney films,  about them falling behind and not keeping up with the times. What’s your take on that as somebody who has worked for Disney? 

I think it’s really important to stand on the right side of history, now. It’s important to support people, regardless of sexuality. And support people for their sexuality, as well. And, in times such as these, when corporations are tied so directly to bills and laws, I think it is imperative that people speak up. And I applaud individuals for standing up for what is right — for walking out, for striking when it’s necessary. Because it is. Because, sometimes, we need to take matters into our own hands in order to be listened to.

So, I believe representation is very important, but also the work on the ground is just as important, and staying up-to-date and staying informed. This is the world that we live in now. And if we’re fighting for our diverse and inclusive future, then be inclusive. Put your money where your mouth is.

We’re nearing Pride, and I don’t know if you’ve ever gone to a Pride event, but, this year, how do you plan on celebrating? 

I’m so excited. I’ve never been to a Pride event. But I lived in Hell’s Kitchen for a while.

Always Pride there. 

Always Pride! [Laughs.] I suppose my first Pride event… I live in Los Angeles, so I’ll be there. I’ll be taking to the streets. I will find someone to give a little gay flag. One of the great things about wearing a mask is nobody knows who you are. So, I’ll be there. I don’t know if you’ll see me, but I will be there. It’s so joyful to walk around and to scream Lady Gaga at the top of your lungs and to know that your community is surrounding you. And to watch “RuPaul’s Drag Race” on a TV in West Hollywood because it’s Pride. Like, everyone’s just playing things that are gay.

How fun to exist in that world for a period of time. And then to take that energy and throw it everywhere that you can, for the rest of the year. I feel like that’s Pride. 

Chris Azzopardi is the Editorial Director of Pride Source Media Group and Q Syndicate, the national LGBTQ+ wire service. He has interviewed a multitude of superstars, including Cher, Meryl Streep, Mariah Carey and Beyoncé. His work has also appeared in The New York Times, Vanity Fair, GQ and Billboard. Reach him via Twitter @chrisazzopardi.

San Francisco Hosts Largest Display of AIDS Memorial Quilt in a Decade

AIDS Memorial Quilt

The National AIDS Memorial will mark the 35th anniversary of the AIDS Memorial Quilt with an historic outdoor display in Golden Gate Park that will feature nearly 3,000 hand-stitched panels of the Quilt.

The free public event will take place on June 11 & 12 from 10 am – 5 pm each day in Robin Williams Meadow and in the National AIDS Memorial Grove. Expected to draw thousands of people, the display will be the largest display of the Quilt in over a decade and the largest-ever in San Francisco history.

“This year’s historic community display will be a beautiful celebration of life and a recognition of the power of the Quilt today as a teaching tool for health and social justice,” said National AIDS Memorial CEO John Cunningham. “The Quilt is an important reminder that the HIV/AIDS crisis is still not over and there is much work to be done, particularly in communities of color, where HIV is on the rise in many parts of the country.” 

The two-day 35th Anniversary event, presented by Gilead Sciences, will feature 350 12’x12′ blocks of the Quilt laid out on the ground, each consisting of eight 3’x 6′ individually sewn panels that honor and remember the names and stories of loved ones lost to AIDS. Visitors will be able to walk through the display to experience each panel, remember the names, and see first-hand the stories sewn into each of them. Featured Quilt blocks will include many of the original panels made during the darkest days of the pandemic and panels made in recent years, a solemn reminder that the AIDS crisis is still not over.

“The Quilt remains an important symbol of hope, activism and remembrance that reaches millions of people each year, opening hearts and minds,” said Alex Kalomparis, Senior Vice President, Gilead Sciences, a long-time partner of the Quilt and its programs. The company provided a $2.4 million grant to the National AIDS Memorial in 2019 to relocate the Quilt from Atlanta back to San Francisco. “Through community displays such as this, the Quilt is connecting the story of HIV/AIDS to the issues faced by many people today, touching their lives in a very personal, compelling way.”

An opening ceremony and traditional Quilt unfolding will start at 9:30 am on the 11th, followed by the continuous reading of names of lives lost to AIDS aloud by volunteers, dignitaries, and the public on both days. There will be panel-making workshops, community information booths, stories behind the Quilt, displays of memorabilia, and the ability for the public to share their personal Quilt stories. Volunteer opportunities and community/corporate partnerships are available. The public is also invited to bring new panels that can be displayed in a special area to become part of the Quilt.  

More than 100 new panels will be seen for the first time at the San Francisco display. Many of them were made through the Memorial’s Call My Name panel-making program, which helps raise greater awareness about the impact of HIV/AIDS in communities of color, particularly in the South, where HIV rates are on the rise today. Panel-making workshops are organized around the country, working with church groups, quilting guilds and AIDS service organizations to continue the Quilt’s 35-year legacy of bringing people together and to serve as a catalyst for education and action by pulling the thread from then to now for justice. 

“The AIDS Quilt has always been an important part of Glide Memorial Church and many Black churches around the country. Throughout the years, we have made panels and displayed them from the pulpit as a backdrop to worship, with parishioners calling, singing, and preaching their names,” said Marvin White, Minister of Celebration at Glide. “We are honored to be a community partner of this historic display, to celebrate their lives and to share their stories so future generations always remember.” 

According to the latest Centers for Disease Control and Prevention data, while new HIV infections in the U.S. fell about 8% from 2015 to 2019, Black and Latino communities — particularly gay and bisexual men within those groups — continue to be disproportionately affected. In 2019, 26% of new HIV infections were among Black gay and bisexual men, 23% among Latino gay and bisexual men, and 45% among gay and bisexual men under the age of 35. African American and Hispanics/Latinos account for the largest increases in new HIV diagnoses, 42% and 27% respectively. Disparities also persist among women. Black women’s HIV infection rate is 11 times that of white women and four times that of Latina women. Racism, HIV stigma, homophobia, poverty, and barriers to health care continue to drive these disparities.

The first panels of the Quilt were created in June of 1987 when a group of strangers, led by gay rights activist Cleve Jones, gathered in a San Francisco storefront to document the lives they feared history would forget. This meeting of devoted friends, lovers and activists would serve as the foundation for The NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt.  Each panel made was the size of a human grave and they saw the Quilt as an activist tool to push the government into taking action to end the epidemic.

“What started as a protest to demand action turned into a national movement that served as a wake-up call to the nation that thousands upon thousands of people were dying,” said Jones.  “Today, the Quilt is just as relevant and even more important, particularly in the wake of Covid-19, and the fact that the struggles we face today that result from health and social inequities are the issues we will face again in the future if we don’t learn from the lessons of the past.”

That year, the nearly 2,000 panels of the Quilt traveled to Washington, D.C. for its first display on the National Mall.  It then traveled to several cities, including a large display at the Moscone Center in San Francisco to raise funds for AIDS service organizations.

Today, the Quilt, considered the largest community arts project in the world, is under the stewardship of the National AIDS Memorial and has surpassed 50,000 individually sewn panels with more than 110,000 names stitched into its 54 tons of fabric. The Quilt continues to connect the history of the AIDS pandemic to the ongoing fight against stigma and prejudice through hundreds of community displays around the country and educational programs that reach millions of people each year. In 2021, an outdoor Quilt display system was constructed in the National AIDS Memorial Grove, located in Golden Gate Park, which allows for regular outdoor displays.

“Golden Gate Park has long been a place where history is made and where people come together for change, to heal and express themselves,” said Phil Ginsburg, general manager of the San Francisco Recreation and Park Department. “The National AIDS Memorial is an important part of that history, and we are honored to be part of this event that will bring thousands of people to our beloved park to honor a national treasure.”

A special web page at www.aidsmemorial.org has been created for the public to plan their visit to see the display that will be updated regularly with the latest details and information about this historic event.

SOURCE The National AIDS Memorial

Patti Harrison on being trans in Hollywood

Patti Harrison

The Lost City of P
Patti Harrison on being trans in Hollywood, her social media woes and Bowen Yang
By Chris Azzopardi

There still aren’t enough trans actors in Hollywood, but at least there’s Patti Harrison. Harrison is currently starring in the big blockbuster rom-com caper “The Lost City,” alongside Sandra Bullock and Channing Tatum, as the social media manager of Bullock’s character, Loretta Sage, a romance-adventure novelist. In the movie, Harrison’s Allison thinks that to help Loretta appeal to a younger demo, it’s just a matter of hashtagging Shawn Mendes’ name at the end of every tweet. 

As for Harrison, her name rose to even greater prominence in 2021 when she voiced Chief of Tale in “Raya and the Dragon,” giving her the distinction of being the first openly trans actor to lend their voice to a Disney film. Last year, she also starred in “Together Together,” a moving comedy about a single man (Ed Helms) and his surrogate, played by Harrison, that premiered at Sundance. But “The Lost City” could really take her career to the next level given it’s a major studio film with major star power, which can only bring more attention to Harrison’s signature brand of comedy.

Harrison’s wry deadpanning was first introduced on primetime TV, when, in 2017 on “The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon,” the actor-comedian made wisecracks about then-President Donald Trump’s ban on trans people in the military. Harrison, who was born in Ohio and whose father is from Detroit, starred in a recurring role on Hulu’s “Shrill” in 2020, along with smaller roles in “Bob’s Burgers,” “Broad City” and “Search Party.” 

During a recent Zoom interview with the actor, Harrison joked about what the movie might have been about when its working title was “The Lost City of D,” chimed in on her own interest in reading romance novels (and reading, period), and discussed how she feels about the “overcorrection” of queer people on TV. 

When you got the script for this movie, originally titled The Lost City of D,what exactly did you think the D stood for?

To be honest, I thought it stood for dick. Or dong. Maybe dildo. Probably less likely [it would be] dildo. Well, I guess it would be _dildos_, ’cause then it would be “The Lost City of the D.” So I think “Lost City of Dildos,” if it’s pluralized, is better.

I appreciate that the movie, even now that its called simply The Lost City,did still lean into the D, as theres a couple dick jokes in it.

Well, there’s a lot of cut scenes with a ton of dildos.

And those are all with just you, or you and Channing?

Well, there was one with me [that] got cut from the movie, but my character was a master in combat with, like, tonfas. But then there weren’t tonfas available, so she wields dildos. And it’s really a lot of work. I took about four months of martial arts classes to learn how to use tonfas correctly and they cut it. Because of dildos.

That’s a shame. Our society is just not ready for something as brave as that.

Doesn’t that suck?

That movie will exist 20 years from now when we’ve made even more progress than we already have.

And Elle Fanning’s granddaughter is doing flips and throwing dildos, and they’re, like, going through people’s heads.

I love that Elle Fanning is your go-to. 

Oh yeah. She’s always in my mind.

I don’t know how were going to be serious now, but I do want to ask if you read any romance novels, queer or not, when you were growing up?

Not at all. I never read a lot, and I never really read outside of what was required of me for school. I don’t think I really… I’m learning. I used to feel really guilty about not reading books, specifically. I think there’s a culture around shaming people who don’t read books. I just don’t absorb information that way. A lot of the stories that I absorb are visual. So I love movies, video games and TV. Maybe that makes me stupid, but I watched a lot of romantic movies and TV shows. But as far as novels go, I think I remember reading “Tess of the d’Urbervilles” in school. I think that is, like, a rapey book. It opens with a sexual assault. That’s probably the only book that comes to mind, actually.

And then no more books for you after that. You just stopped reading.

What if the only book I’ve ever read was “Tess of the d’Urbervilles”? That’s the one book. I should be studied by science if that were the case.

What if there was a romance novel based on your life? What might it be called? And who would be your cover model for it?

Well, I did get asked this question earlier today, but I think it’s probably for a publication that wouldn’t use [my answer] and wouldn’t care what I said. Because my answer when asked what the title of my romance novel would be [was], “Oh, Is There Poop?” And I don’t think I would be on the cover of it, right? It would be my mom and my fourth grade teacher, who’s my mentor. And they’re just kind of doing a thumbs up through a foggy window. They’re standing outside of a window. And then you see the crest of someone’s butt.

That’s beautiful, actually.

There would be more explained in the book. I promise.

While you were making this movie, playing a social media manager, did it hit you how ironic it is that in real life you might not cut it as a social media manager since you were banned from Twitter? 

I definitely think there’s some irony there. I, every day, am waiting for my Instagram account to be deleted against my will. Probably for the best. But now Instagram’s terms and conditions have changed and they, like, auto go through and will flag photos. Maybe once a week, I get a new photo flagged. And it’s always a post from, like, 2013. And it’ll be a photo of me being like, “I love this bitch,” and it’ll be me and my friend. And then it’ll be flagged for bullying and harassment, ’cause I called my friend a bitch. And I was like, “Well, that’s my whole Instagram page, me being like, ‘Love this stupid, ugly fucking slut.’” I guess if that’s bullying and harassment, then I’m not fated for Instagram anymore.

I think social media has had a big part in my career success, which has been great. I also think social media has evolved. So the version of it we have now is mainly a shopping platform. So I don’t think social media is intrinsically bad, but I think we’ve made it bad ’cause it’s corporatized. But I don’t remember exactly why Adam [Nee, who co-directed and co-wrote the screenplay], Aaron [Nee, Adam’s brother, who co-directed) or Sandy [Bullock] said they specifically wanted me for the part other than they saw me and thought I was funny. In other things I’ve been cast in, it’s usually ’cause of stupid videos or something I made on Instagram.

Or maybe it was Together Together,which was one of my favorite movies of last year. How major did it feel to be part of a film where you, a trans actress, is playing a surrogate? There was a lot of conversation around that and how I’m not even sure that that’s ever happened before in a movie. It all felt pretty groundbreakingly important casting-wise. 

Yeah. I mean, I think I definitely thought about what that meant and the optics of it. I had so many conversations with [writer-director] Nikole [Beckwith] about if it was stunt casting or whatever. But it really did feel like something I just never thought I was going to get to do, and I tried not to overload it in playing the role, like bring too much of that into it. 

I think what was really nice is that Nikole was so present in making sure I felt prepared and knew what was going on in each scene, like where my character was in her pregnancy. I think it helped me get out of my head and not think about the politics of what it means. You know, my whole thing when we were filming was, “Oh my gosh. Are people going to be staring at my Adam’s apple? Is this something that I’m going to deal with? A level of TERF scrutiny or something that would be really emotionally painful to endure?” But, ultimately, it’s been an incredible gift in my life. The only thing that I’ll ever earnestly talk about is that movie because it just felt so special. 

As a queer person, I try not to overthink the optics. But oftentimes, it’s hard for me not to, just because I’m always looking for us to be represented and be visible. 

Yeah. Speaking of social media, I feel like there is an overcorrection or overemphasis with development and TV, like stumbling over themselves to be inclusive in a way that I think can sometimes be minimizing to the creator or the artist or writer, whoever’s trying to make a project, if that person is marginalized in any way.

And if that marginalization is queer, then in an ideal world, that person could just make whatever they want. I think what’s stressful about it is that people who aren’t queer, who aren’t marginalized, and who are in these gatekeeping positions, are trying to figure out a way to capitalize on queerness or the more mainstream interest in it and it can feel very minimizing when the only stories they want to tell or they want to see from you as a queer person is stuff about being queer. It’s like, my sense of humor as a comedian has really been not about that, but it has kind of pivoted into that. I’m approached about being trans so much that it’s made me a little resentful. I’m like, “Oh, I see comedians who are peripheral to me who aren’t queer, and they can make a TV show about whatever they want.” But when I take a meeting, it’s like, they don’t want to hear my idea about, you know, Elle Fanning with dildos. They want to hear about a biopic about me coming out to my mom and her struggling with it.

On that note, its nice to see you and Bowen Yang in The Lost City,where you can both just be funny. 

Yeah. Bowen shot the last week I was there pretty much, and it was the perfect little ending to the trip. We had, like, golf carts where we were staying. It was so much fun. I wish he would have been there the whole time. It made me want to work with him on something.

On the poop book or the dildo movie? 

Yeah. Where we have unsimulated sex. A lot of penetration, me and Bowen. Really close friends just, like, really screwing for art. That’s representation.

Chris Azzopardi is the Editorial Director of Pride Source Media Group and Q Syndicate, the national LGBTQ+ wire service. He has interviewed a multitude of superstars, including Cher, Meryl Streep, Mariah Carey and Beyoncé. His work has also appeared in The New York Times, Vanity Fair, GQ and Billboard. Reach him via Twitter @chrisazzopardi.

John Cameron Mitchell on what we can learn from Joe Exotic

Joe Exotic

Power, Putin and, Yes, the Tiger King
John Cameron Mitchell on what we can learn about abusing authority from Joe Exotic
By Chris Azzopardi

What could Joe “Tiger King” Exotic and fictional genderqueer arthouse punk-rocker Hedwig Robinson possibly have in common? John Cameron Mitchell.

And so, the Farrah Fawcett wig comes off the 58-year-old actor who created Hedwig and brought her Off-Broadway in 1998, before “Hedwig and the Angry Inch” became a cult indie film three years later, in 2001. Instead, to portray the wildly controversial and buzzy gay subject of the Netflix docuseries “Tiger King” for the new Peacock series “Joe vs. Carole,” Mitchell’s rocking a “Bring Me Some Water”-era Melissa Etheridge mullet.

In this eight-episode dramatization of Exotic’s ludicrous run as the Oklahoma zookeeper infamous for his cruel treatment of animals and his plot to kill animal rights activist Carole Baskin (played here by Kate McKinnon), Mitchell slips out of Hedwig’s heels and into Joe’s cowboy boots. (Exotic is currently serving a 21-year prison sentencing for hiring two men to kill Baskin.) The purely scandalous story told in the Netflix series is still scandalous — how could it not be? — but with a humanizing bent to it. You might even find yourself liking the guy. Which, as we’ve seen with the Trumps and Putins of the world, is a slippery and dangerous slope.

From his apartment in New York, Mitchell, who recently came out as non-binary, spoke about why Joe Exotic is “the real Trump,” a podcast he’s working on that takes on cancel culture, and how this generation’s wokeisms are inadvertently working against the very allies they seek.

I’ve followed your career for a long time, and being this indie art guy, a lead role in a Peacock series must feel like a big moment.

I’m old enough to know that it comes and goes. I was able to buy a house for the first time. I’ve always kept my overhead low. And I was like, well, I’m getting older. And so this came along and it was a dream job. I loved everybody. I had a great time. They took my input. Kate’s amazing. Etan [Frankel], the showrunner, is amazing. And we shot in Australia, which was very fun and comfortable at the time. I had more fun acting in this on screen than in Hedwig because I had too much responsibility in Hedwig.

Wait, so “Joe vs. Carole” allowed you to buy the house?

Yes. It’s called money, baby. It’s a mainstream thing. I’m considering another job right now, whether I want to commit to a multiyear thing, but we’ll see. Nice to have options. I’m working on another fictional podcast, which is very fun. This one’s more zany and of-the-moment. Kind of on the subject of cancellation. It’s time to bring our wisdom and humor to bear on a somewhat humorless subject. And I’m also working on a TV series. Pitching a musical TV series. And continuing touring here and there with my concerts.

With “Joe vs. Carole,” I think it’s important to acknowledge that you and Kate, two queer icons, are at the center of this story. There’s something very special about that for me.

I wish we had more to do because we really hit it off and I’m writing her something now I hope she’ll do. Kate and I both obviously have strong opinions about our characters and about humor and about how the characters should be played. Because we’re not really doing the real people; we’re doing an interpretation of them. She’s much funnier than the real Carole. I’m adding my own things to it. It’s maybe 50 percent the real people and 50 percent what we’re bringing to it. Because we’re not doing a “Saturday Night Live” sketch. We’re not doing a karaoke version. We’re wanting to have a full emotional experience. And we’re guessing, also, what these characters might be like when they’re not on camera. And that’s a wonderful thing. We had enough freedom and Etan, the showrunner, was open to that. He cast two queer people in a kind of queer story. And when you see it, it actually feels very queer. The way it’s shot, even. It’s very artificial with hopefully an emotional center. It feels like it’s, perhaps, in that Hedwig model, where you’re not stinting on the humor and the camp, but we’re also honoring the people as real people who’ve been through shit.

Did you recognize that the series’ queerness would extend to its direction, as well, before you signed on?

I didn’t really know about the way it was shooting. Justin Tipping, one of the directors, came up with the way it’s shot. It has certain homages to the Coen brothers, to Danny Boyle, to Hedwig even. It’s highly artificial until it gets real. And that’s how their lives seem. They’re sui generis people. They came from trauma, but they triumphed and created their own kingdoms. But then got corrupted by that power, I think. Joe and Carole could have been buddies. Kate and I even had an improv where we just started making out in a dream sequence. It was improvised. They didn’t keep it in and they won’t let me put it on my Instagram because a lesbian’s kissing a gay man and that’s wrong. Seems right to me.

Seems very right to me.

Yes. Well, I’ll just have to make it happen in another project.

The one that you’re writing for Kate?

That’s for a podcast. We’ll still kiss on the podcast.

I didn’t realize that “Joe vs. Carole” was going to humanize these characters in the way that it has. And there’s so much about Joe that we learned from the series that I didn’t from the docuseries

Because you know, he’s larger than life and, to America, he’s a kind of “Duck Dynasty”-meets-“Real Housewives” [personality]. He’s not a real person. He’s a paper tiger that’s entertaining and maybe not necessarily empathetic. I actually think when you watch him, he’s so eager to please that you want to hug him and take the gun out of his holster and throw it in the river. And Carole presented a more controlled facade, in a kind of Hillary Clinton way. Which turned people against her, partly because of misogyny. But that’s her defense. And that was Hillary’s defense — to hold it together.

Joe screams about being tough, but you can tell [he] isn’t. He’s a megalomaniac, but he’s not exactly tough. It’s like Trump. If you keep saying you’re the best, you know there’s a hole in your soul if you have to keep reminding yourself. We all know the people who don’t mention it are the strong ones.

So then what do these people do? They exert their power, they become bullies.

They still do. And they can abuse it. Because they have to prop themselves up. That’s what Putin is in a more calculated way. Trump is too inept to be a Putin. But he still engenders popularity amongst people who love a dictator, who want a daddy, and they’re willing to ignore the facts because they think he’s authentic. I don’t know how someone who’s a Thanksgiving Day balloon can appear authentic. And a man of the people when he was born with a silver spoon up his ass. And Joe is the real Trump. He’s from the dirt. He made himself. Nobody handed him millions.

Though, he did build the zoo with his brother’s insurance. And he became a very abusive person, but he’s also a human being.

It dawned on me while watching this that you were born in Texas and raised in Kansas. How did your own origin story help you understand Joe when it came to an understanding of being gay in the South?

It was not exactly the South. I would call it more rural America. Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas are kind of this lower Midwest thing that’s different from the South. East Texas is more Southern. I’m from west Texas, which is more cowboy than Southern gentility. But we did live an hour from where his zoo was before the zoo in Fort Sill. And Saff [Saffery], the trans man whose arm is eaten off [by a tiger], is stationed there, actually.

So I’m conversing with my old friends from Kansas, high school friends, and they’re all like, “Johnny, you got it, you got the accent,” and I’m like, “I know; I grew up with all you all.” And so that makes me feel good that they bought it. Because I hadn’t been there in a while. But when I go back I feel that it’s in my bones the way I do when I’m in Scotland too. My mother’s Scottish, my dad’s American. And I’ve moved around a lot, and I had to feel comfortable in different places. Changed my accent. That’s why I became an actor. But I like the “say a few things in a minimal way, kind of Midwestern” thing. Texan is more loquacious. But Oklahoma, Kansas, Nebraska, Missouri — that’s all like, just say what you mean, try to mean it, say it in a few words. So there’s a warmth and not getting carried away with things. Which I love about it.

And I think that’s probably why Joe didn’t move. Another queer person would go to the big city. I mean, he went to Dallas for a bit, but it [wasn’t] exactly the same as New York or California at that time. So queer people at that time had three options. You either keep your head down and stay in your small community and become the hairdresser or the lesbian gym coach and just keep it quiet and have your wife or husband and maybe just shut up and help people out. That’s a valid way of living. Or you leave and go to the big city and find your queer community. Or you do what Joe did, which was make a community. Build a fortress in the rural area called a zoo or a pet shop or a drag parlor. And I identify with that because, though I did leave, I create my communities. My temporary creative communities with movies and shows and podcasts and the unwanted animals, the misfits with skills, come there and have a good time. But I know that it will end at some point before the infighting can begin, unlike the zoo. So I love a temporary community.

And he just dragged that on for too long.

And when you have ex-cons and rehab folks and you’re not paying them well, it’s going to end in tears. If you seek out lovers who are lost themselves, and there’s drugs involved, you know there’s going to be trouble. I feel like his first relationship was the most stable. Even though I think his husband had a drug problem and died of AIDS, that was [his] most healthy relationship. He was grounding for Joe and he had as much power as Joe. Later, he sought out people that he could Lord over, but save as well. There’s a thin line between savior and cult leader.

I was thinking about the physicality of Joe, because there’s a lot going on here. And none of it is really you. And that includes the wig, the facial hair, of which you have none, the jewelry, the tats and the shiny tiger print shirts. What piece really helped you transform into Joe?

A cowboy boot with a heel gives you something, a way of walking. All of it together felt like drag, felt like armor. So when I get into the wig and the makeup and the costumes, it’s the same as Hedwig. And in fact, the characters have a lot in common. They’re both misfits who create their own world to survive it and lash out at people because of their early trauma. Lord over people. Hedwig breaks that cycle. Joe doesn’t.

Watching you I was like, “Oh yeah, this is like dressing up as Hedwig.”

I felt like a drag king. I felt like a lesbian identified gay man. The Melissa Etheridge mullet and all.

Switching gears, let’s talk about “Shortbus,” your 2006 film that has been remastered in 4K and is currently screening across the U.S. before its Blu-ray and streaming release later this year. How do you think “Shortbus” plays to younger generations who are seeing it for the first time?

The screenings I’ve been to with people who remember it and people who it’s new to — young people — is interesting. The older people who saw it in their 20s and 30s were like, “Gosh, that sex is like whatever now, but it’s the deeper stuff that really gets me now.” And the young people are like, “People have sex like that?” They’re all like, “Is there a consent issue?” They’re looking for something un-PC about it and they can’t quite figure out what it is.

They love it. But they’re being taught lately they have to find trouble with most things. One of them who loved the film said, “What would you say if someone” — a very journalist way of saying what they’re thinking, “said, ‘Is it your right to tell the story of an Asian woman who can’t have an orgasm?’” And I said, “Well, to that person, whoever said that, which is not you, I would say, it is my story. We developed this together.” There’s elements of me, and I’m a Toni Morrison fan. When Toni’s students were like, “I’m going to write about my going to Europe,” she was like, “You will not. You will write about something you don’t know anything about. You, little Black girl, are going to write about that white frat boy in Houston. And you’re going to find out what that world is and you’re going to enter it.” And that is the beginning of empathy. There’s no other purpose for fiction.

If you keep splitting those hairs looking for trouble, you stop the organ called empathy. You clog it with unnecessary wokeisms that have good intentions. They cloud the mind, and they stop you from feeling. And they do Trump’s work, and you start lashing out at your natural friends and allies. That’s what he wants us to do, kill each other so he can take over.

That seems like your jumping off point for the podcast you’re working on.

Exactly. So when someone said that,“Have you considered remaking ‘Shortbus’ with a more diverse cast?” I’m like, “Why not talk to that other woman who said it’s not my story to tell?” We made this film with the very few handful of people who were willing to go into that sexual realm. And I wanted it to be as diverse as possible. But I also got who I got and I was very happy with them. I couldn’t find a lesbian couple, for example, who wanted to do it. So I recreated it. And I work with people who are in effect playing versions of themselves. “Shortbus” is as authentic as anything I’ve ever made in terms of the reality of these characters, the reality of the setting, the reality of the extras. No one had a problem on that film. Whereas today I don’t think it could be made because of the panic about sex and representation and everything else.

I wondered about the sex in particular, because I know it’s not simulated, but we have shows like “Euphoria” where we’re seeing a lot more frank sex in content.

It’s still grim, though. God. It’s still depressing sex. Depression porn.

“Shortbus” was not depressing sex. I remember feeling sexually empowered by watching it.

Good. God knows there are very creative people in the world. I think they’re being clogged. A lot of people turn to me, my young friends, and say, “How do I get rid of that feeling?” Because they know that my work embodies following your impulses in a disciplined way and not being afraid of not fitting in, or being famous, or being rich. There was something called art for art’s sake. That would be my drag king name — Art for Art’s Sake. May be even better than Hell of a Bottom Carter.

You have to play. This is your time to play. Now that COVID is over, it’s your time to travel to get out of this hamster wheel of American social media. Go to Latin America, go somewhere you’ve never been and find out that other people are living in different ways. We’re shocked by what’s happening in Ukraine. I think what’s happening there is a fucking a tragedy and a crime. But at least it’s reminding people that we’re human.

RuPaul will host ‘Lingo’ for CBS

Rupaul to Host Lingo

By Romeo San Vicente

You can probably chalk this up to the current online “Wordle” craze, but America’s most famous drag queen, RuPaul, is about to crash CBS’s primetime lineup with an updated version of the vintage ’80s series “Lingo.” After multiple iterations of the game show – in which contestants guess five-letter words to fill a bingo-like grid – aired in the United States, and after versions in other countries have kept going strong for decades, CBS is ready to revive it for primetime later in the year. It’s perfect timing, and, as for centering RuPaul as the host, that’s another no-brainer. He is, after the late Alex Trebek and alongside “Price is Right” vet Drew Carey, among America’s most beloved game show hosts. Now, we hope he hosts in drag but we’re guessing he won’t, most likely to insure that this show and “RuPaul’s Drag Race” stay in their own lanes. But honestly, it’ll probably be because a properly flawless Ru look takes hours and Mr. Charles is a very busy man.

Josie Totah Leads the Trans Charge on TV

Josie Totah

The former Disney star talks LGBTQ+ relatability on ‘Saved by the Bell’ and what’s next for trans representation
Chris Azzopardi

If you were expecting more of the same from “Saved by the Bell” when Peacock revived the series in 2020, you wouldn’t just be mistaken — you’d be pleasantly surprised. 

A staple of TV for a generation of teens, the show, which originally ran from 1989 to 1993, has undergone a woke update that, this season, includes a powerful trans storyline. 

Yep, in 2021, Bayside High now naturally reflects the world as we know it. And so there’s Lexi, the popular girl who just happens to be transgender. No big deal. At least that’s how the show treats it, and how former Disney star Josie Totah, the 20-year-old trans actor known for roles on “Glee,” the NBC comedy “Champions” and the Disney Channel series “Jessie,” prefers it. 

Recently, Totah spoke about the important message for trans allies in the show’s latest season of “Saved by the Bell” and how she thinks trans representation on TV has finally started to depict transgender people in a relatable and authentic way. 

This is not the Saved by the BellI grew up with when it comes to LGBTQ+ representation. What does it mean to you to be a major part of that kind of representation on this more evolved and more queer-inclusive revival that’s far less hetero-centric than the original?

It’s awesome. Our show is so funny, and we get to tell so many cool stories that [weren’t] told in the original that are [relevant] to conversations that we’re having today, that represent people who’ve been around since the inception of time. And it’s awesome. It’s such a privilege. 

Have you gone back and watched any original episodes of Saved by the Bell? I just wonder how you interpret the conversations that were being had then versus the conversations that are a part of this reimagining.

Yeah, we went back and watched it as a cast. I mean, I had seen the show before just in its rerun phase in the early 2000s. I feel like that was a very big thing. I really based my character on the classic “Mean Girls” trope that we all know and love, and [I] flipped it on its head and gave her some surgery to make her very interesting and cool. Less stereotypically basic.

Being a part of this show was so important to you that you put school off to be a part of it. Can you explain why?

Well, I put school off, and then school put me off because the pandemic happened. So I was ahead of the curve, but I’m still in college. Somehow, I’m still graduating in May. [Showrunner Tracey Wigfield] told me that she had an idea of a character that she wrote for me, and I fell in love. We met up at a coffee shop in downtown L.A., and she’s just so cool. I love that woman so, so much, and that’s sort of how it happened. It’s one of the best opportunities I ever said yes to. 

As a producer, can you talk about what kind of input you’re giving when it comes to LGBTQ+ representation on the show, specifically as it pertains to Lexi?

I got to sit in the writers’ room this season, which was so fun. I joined once or twice a week and sat in and had a great time. Just to get to be in the room with so many fantastic writers from so many different walks of life and getting to bring my own authentic journey and story to the show was awesome. And I think it [made] the story truer to real life and more entertaining because it was more unique, and there’s relatability. So getting to that was awesome, but also getting to be a part of the other stories that we get to tell, like Aisha [played by Alycia Pascual-Peña]; her journey through her life, particularly in episode seven, was super fun. I remember being in the writers’ room that week and getting to delve into that.

Episode five blew my mind, especially as a fan of the original series. If I would’ve seen episode five when I was a kid, it would’ve changed my life. How did the idea to explore Lexi dealing with a really serious incident of transphobia evolve? 

Tracey has been very cool from the beginning and she’s just like, “We can talk about however much you wanna talk about when it comes to Lexi’s gender identity.” It was clear to us that we wanted to tell a story that sort of delved into her identity in a way that was more nuanced, that we hadn’t been able to come to last season, and that also sort of progressed her arc as a character outside of her gender identity. I just had my second COVID vaccine at the time in March when we were pitching different things of how we would tell this story, and someone came up with an idea for Lexi to write a play that would solve transphobia, which I think is literally the funniest thing in the entire world. It just is a ridiculously beautiful episode in that way, and it’s so funny. 

It deals with a really important societal issue who carries the burden of having to make change for the trans community when transphobia happens? How did that resonate with you on a personal level?

That’s just a very real thing when it comes to the burdening of trauma, and it’s crazy how people put the oppressed in charge of educating and solving things that everyone really should be working on. It was sick to get to tell it; it was very cool. And I’m glad that we show people probably how _not_ to be an asshole when it comes to things like that, and also how to be a better ally.

By the end of the episode, Lexi realizes that she’s got real support in her peers. But you also have Slater, played by Mario Lopez, on your side. You’ve got Jessie on your side. The original cast is advocating for you; theyre allies of the community, clearly. What kind of conversations did you have with the original cast concerning that episode when it came to any kind of LGBTQ+ issues and transphobia? 

None of the original cast, but Belmont [Cameli, as Jamie Spano], Dexter [Darden as Devante Young] and Alycia are some of my best friends in the entire world, and I’m so honored, particularly with Bel and Dex and Mitch Hoog [as Mac Morris], just to have three guys who are straight and cis and really understand me and see me for my full self and not just one part of me. But also recognizing that life is different for me. It’s so beautiful, and particularly with Bel and Dex just because they were in that episode the most. They’re just the most supportive guys ever. And I felt so loved and so privileged. It brought me to tears. We shared a lot of love, and I really felt like they were carrying me on their shoulders that week. 

It’s important for straight men to see that it’s cool when you stand up for people in the queer community. 

Yeah, it’s hot.

What was your high school experience like?

I mean, I went to a Catholic high school where I would call teachers by their first names and they’d be like, “Shut the hell up, sit down. My name is Sister Rebecca.” And I’d be like, “Becca.” I thought that I was really cool, but I wasn’t. [I was] kind of just this kid who people knew from the Disney Channel and they’re like, “That’s that weirdo.” 

Yeah, I was crazy, but I met two of my best friends there, and we’re still best friends to this day, and we survived. I think if you can survive Catholic high school with people, you’re with them forever. But also it was an awesome Catholic high school, I will say. Very supportive of gender diversity and sexual orientation, and they were very cool. I was very, very privileged to not have a toxic experience.

I grew up Catholic too, and you don’t hear that very often about the Catholic experience.

You really don’t, but they always told me, “Boo boo, like, you might be weird, but God created you. So we blame him and not you. And you’re meant to be who you’re meant to be.”

Theres obviously been so much talk over the years concerning trans representation. How can we improve the representation of trans characters in TV and film? And how do you think Lexi advances trans representation in a positive way?

First and foremost, it’s played by me, an actual trans person, which obviously is unfortunately revolutionary since so many of our stories have been appropriated and have been told by people who have no idea what the trans experience is like and have surrounded it with [the] negativity of violence. Also, I’m a producer, which is sick. Like, that’s amazing because I think it speaks to the authenticity in front of and behind the camera, which is very, very important. I’m not just being tokenized; I’m being listened to and I’m being valued, and it does change the show. It makes it better in my opinion, at least I’d hope, because it makes it more authentic. And I think that’s sort of the goal, right? Not just placing people in these positions to sort of fill a diversity hire, but valuing their experience and capitalizing on their experience and their willingness to share for the benefit of the story, which is awesome. It makes our show so good.

Like you mentioned, so many trans narratives _are_ told through the lens of trans struggle.

That’s important, but it’s also important to tell other stories too, because we’re fully encompassing human beings.

Do you see a change in how Hollywood is representing trans people that isnt focused on trans struggle? 

I think we’re turning a corner, but I wanna see a trans rom-com of a girl starring in her own movie and living her best life. I wanna see an undercover spy movie where a trans girl has to travel to Bulgaria and take down a drug heist. There are so many different realms that I wanna see and I’m going to do. And I’m so excited that I get to be young and able and afforded that opportunity to throw my hat in the ring. I’m grateful that I’m living in this time, and I’m also excited to hopefully be able to tell other trans stories and other stories of people of color and people from different marginalized communities too, and highlighting their own journeys as well, which I think is very important.

Chris Azzopardi is the Editorial Director of Pride Source Media Group and Q Syndicate, the national LGBTQ+ wire service. He has interviewed a multitude of superstars, including Cher, Meryl Streep, Mariah Carey and Beyoncé. His work has also appeared in The New York Times, Vanity Fair, GQ and Billboard. Reach him via Twitter @chrisazzopardi.