Queer Culture, Almodóvar, Verhoeven and More, Now Available to Stream

Hopefully now we’ve got some folks in charge who are at least trying to help facilitate the distribution of the COVID-19 vaccine, and hopefully we can have this one thing as a foundation to build on. But it’s Tennessee, so even that is a big question mark doing a lot of conditional heavy lifting. If things have got you stressed, then the following streaming selections should help you decompress, either by thwarting your anxieties or fulfilling them in increasingly baroque ways. As always, visit past issues of the Scene for many more recommendations: March 26, April 2, April 9, April 16, April 23, April 30, May 7, May 14, May 21, May 28, June 4, June 11, June 18, June 25, July 2, July 9, July 16, July 23, July 30, Aug. 6, Aug. 13, Aug. 20, Aug. 27, Sept. 3, Sept. 10, Sept. 17, Sept. 24, Oct. 1, Oct. 15, Oct. 29, Nov. 5, Nov. 11, Nov. 26, Dec. 3, Dec. 17, Jan. 6, Jan. 21.

‘T’ via The Criterion Channel

Part of The Criterion Channel’s exceptional program on Afrofuturism, “T” is a haunting and dynamic short film from director Keisha Rae Witherspoon. It’s a documentary about a community commemorating those who have been lost with an event called “T Ball,” with remembrances emblazoned on T-shirts, as well as an exploration of how grief fuels art. In a little less than 15 minutes, Witherspoon depicts a world of boundless imagination and the deepest of emotional stress. Do not miss this — or Witherspoon’s other short, “1968 2068,” which uses a protean series of Aretha Franklin performances of “I Say a Little Prayer” to demonstrate retrocausality.

Starship Troopers via Amazon Prime, Starz, Tubi, Sling, more

It’s impossible to express how far ahead of its time this film was. But I do recall the day after 9/11 thinking, “Why is Dubya lit like Sky Marshal Tehat Meru now?” That’s why Starship Troopers director Paul Verhoeven and writer Ed Neumeier are treasures; there’s no other filmmaking team whose run of science-fiction films has ended up becoming prophecy with such gonzo wit and not the slightest hint of taste (see also: RoboCop, which launched in theaters as raucous satire and now just looks like real life). A cast of 90210/Melrose Place synthetic youths dolled up to battle superbugs for the good of a fascist global government is a wild concept that hasn’t lost any of its bite in the intervening 24 years, and the many creatures are a marvel of malignant design. The fact that this film lost the Best Visual Effects Oscar to Titanic remains a bunch of bullshit. Also featuring special appearances by a Golden Girl and Mazzy Star’s “Fade Into You.” Like Lost Highway, Se7en, Intimacy, Basquiat and the SpongeBob SquarePants stage musical, Starship Troopers is subject to the rule of 1. Outside, whereby any film or artistic work that features a song from David Bowie’s 1995 album 1. Outside is a masterpiece.

The Queen of Black Magic on Shudder

It wasn’t specifically the centipedes that did it. But they were certainly part of the unsettled spell that this Indonesian horror epic wrought, leaving me at several different points covering my eyes because what was happening was completely overwhelming. There’s a lot to be said for Indonesia’s willingness to confront a lot of the horrors in its past, and like its thematic sibling May the Devil Take You Too (also on Shudder), The Queen of Black Magic (Indonesian title Ratu Ilmu Hitam) features a visit to an orphanage with secrets that respectable society would prefer remain buried. It shares a title (and some credits-sequence imagery) with the 1981 film of the same title starring South Asian cinema legend Suzzanna (note: anything starring Suzzanna is worth checking out, especially Perjanjian Dimalam Keramat, which is like a simultaneous remake of A Nightmare on Elm Street and Last House on the Left with big Elaine Stritch energy). But this is its own nightmare, built on the foundation of institutionalized patriarchy and exploitation, and it is not here to fuck around. Director Kimo Stamboel and writer Joko Anwar (he directed 2019’s Impetigore and the exceptional remake of Satan’s Slaves) tap directly into the part of the brain where nightmares live, and they shower your cerebral cortex with it.

Queer Japan via Video on Demand

There’s incredible art on display in Queer Japan, and conceptual drag like nothing you’ve quite seen before. There’s performance art from the incredible visionary Saeborg (who merits their own documentary), a remarkable interview with Gengoroh Tagame (even if you don’t recognize the name, if you’ve been on the internet, you know his art), and countless instances of creativity leaping over the limitations of the conventional and coming up with something delightful and provocative — the stories of the Department H fetish extravaganzas and how the Boyish Friend events came to be are captivating tales for viewers of any situation. But what director Graham Kolbeins has done with this enthralling portrait of the many facets of the queer experience in contemporary Japan is impressive from a structural perspective as well, because there is no aspect of the modern queer experience (nomenclature, incorporating trans issues, racism, fighting discriminatory laws, STI education, evolving perspectives on intersectionality, the protean nature of gender) that doesn’t find a place in the discussion. That’s what lots of documentaries and social movements aim for. But Kolbeins makes it all fit effortlessly and sensibly, finding space for all the voices in a way that lets the film work as a discussion rather than a lecture. A remarkable documentary.

Labyrinth of Passion via Turner Classic Movies

TCM has been doing the world a solid with its recent programming of Pedro Almodóvar’s ’80s films, leading up to his 1988 international breakthrough Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown. This programming is essential both for showing us the artistic foundations of one of global cinema’s most endearing personalities and for giving audiences the world over a look at La Movida Madrileña, the artistic revolution that swept Madrid (and the rest of Spain) following the death of fascist dictator Francisco Franco. The director’s second feature, Labyrinth is a farce that believes wholeheartedly in mercurial identities of all kinds, a cruisy approach to daily life, a bemused ambivalence toward drugs, and the knowledge that terrorist plots and the machinations of previous generations still caught up in fucked-up right-wing fantasies can pop up at any moment to wreck your day. And while not as rough around the edges as the John Waters-y bad-girl picaresque of his first feature Pepi, Luci, Bom, this film is still more than shocking enough for the modern palate. Have a mental margarita and check this one — or the myriad Almodóvar films TCM Is currently showing — out.