Let’s take a moment to appreciate that there are four queer movies in theatres right now — wild to witness as a 90s kid from a highly conservative country. I still remember matinee shows at the only culture?leaning theatre two hours away from home, catching the single screening of Carol (2015) in a room quietly packed with lesbians. And the disaster that was watching Freeheld (2015), while people behind me whispered about how “disgusting” it was to see Laurel (Julianne Moore) and Stacie (Elliot Page) kiss. Joke’s on them because Elliot is actually a man.
Anyway, moment of appreciation over. Without further ado, here’s a super quick review of this sparkling marathon:
Leviticus (2026)
Let’s start with the obvious: critics love this movie, and as a huge horror fan, I had to see if the hype was real.
Leviticus follows a queer teen in a hyper?religious rural community whose relationship sparks escalating violence, paranoia, and supernatural dread — a metaphorical descent into the horrors of conversion therapy and internalized fear.
Cue an hour and a half of deep, raw depression. I felt miserable the whole time.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great film. The performances are top?notch, and the technical craft is solid. It captures the terror of loving someone in a place where that love could get you killed. The metaphor of conversion therapy is sharp, and the psychological shaping of fear is painfully accurate.
The tension — the constant question of whether the protagonist is safe — feels like It Follows (2014). But this is one of those well?made films that simply isn’t for me. I left the auditorium with the same hopelessness I felt after Boys Don’t Cry (1999). I wasn’t in the headspace to be reminded how hard it is to live in an ultra?conservative place where leaving is the only way to survive.
Some scenes had me screaming internally at the sheer stupidity of certain characters, but if you can mentally handle it, it’s a solid flick.
Blood Lines (2025)
Oh man, I really wanted to like this. On paper, it sounded perfect.
Blood Lines follows a Métis woman who returns to her hometown to reconnect with her roots, only to fall for a local girl who’s dealing with her own family history and community tensions.
I was willing to ignore the over?explained dialogue and choppy editing because the leads were genuinely good. But then the co?protagonist mentioned she was searching for her “lost family,” and my heart sank. My sister and I looked at each other and whispered, “please, no.” We knew exactly where this story was heading, and it prevented us from enjoying what was supposed to be a beautiful journey of self?discovery.
It’s hard to talk about this film without explicitly addressing where it went wrong, but suffice to say: as a queer audience member, the “twist” subplot felt unnecessary, distracting from the anti?colonial theme and dragging the story into telenovela territory. It also unintentionally fuels a long?standing historic mockery toward the queer community.
It’s an okay film, and it shines for its Métis representation, but if you’re looking for a romantic queer film, this is not it.
Girls Like Girls (2026)
Based on Hayley Kiyoko’s song and directed by her as well, this film tells the story of two teenage girls navigating friendship, attraction, and messy queer first love in small?town America.
I saved it for last, sensing I’d need a pick?me?up after all the drama and tragedy. And while it’s cute and 100 per cent gay, I found myself frustrated with the main couple. I know they’re high?schoolers and cliché drama is part of the package, but by the end, I wasn’t rooting for their relationship. There’s only so much toxicity I can handle, and without the book’s context, some choices felt hard to justify.
I also wasn’t a fan of the dialogue — it felt more literary than how people actually talk. Still, with all its messiness, I reckon many baby gays will enjoy this one.
Regardless of results, I’m a sucker for queer content and have zero regrets about seeing all these films. 2SLGBTQIA+ cinema is often hit?or?miss, but the only way it grows is if we keep showing up.
Next up is Stop! That! Train! (2026) — I just couldn’t match the showtimes to squeeze in four movies in a row. Maybe next time. Okay, gays and allies, go support, reflect, and enjoy this Pride season.
