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I’m re-posting (sometimes in expanded form) a series of reviews of lesbian-themed movies that I originally drew up in answer to a request for recommendations of "good movies involving lesbian romances that don't end up with the protagonists deeply unhappy, dead, or both." To this set of criteria I’ve added the question, “Is the story primarily about coming out?” This set of index questions will necessarily involve some spoilers, but since I'm not reviewing any current releases, I think the statute of limitations has expired.

Many of these items are not currently in print. I'll link each to their imdb.com entry for reference. But for those currently available, Wolfe Video is the go-to distributor for lgbt movies.

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When Night is Falling (1995)

Uptight college professor Camille, in a fit of uncertainty and confusion about her relationship with her boyfriend, meets free-spirited circus performer Petra for whom it is love at first sight. Petra pursues and Camille succumbs, followed by a hostile confrontation with her (now ex?) boyfriend. But in the end, with the circus leaving town, Camille runs away to join it. (Note that despite the "lesbian" in my review series title, Camille seems rather solidly bi rather than lesbian. I don't recall whether that aspect is directly addressed.)

No lesbians die, but Camille's dog's death is deeply intertwined in the plot’s symbolism. Definitely a coming-out/seduction story. No recanting within the scope of what the movie covers, and implications of happily-ever-after, but you have to have doubts about the stability of the relationship given the mis-match in personalities.

In essence, this is the queer version of the manic pixie dream-girl. As such, while the same-sex twist is refreshing, the story has a bit of a stale feel (even for 1995). The overall tone comes across as a bit dark and angsty, giving the viewer a fair amount of uncertainty over how things will turn out. And the secondary message about women making choices between their careers and their romantic lives isn't exactly progressive. But there are some lovely sensual scenes.

I’m re-posting (sometimes in expanded form) a series of reviews of lesbian-themed movies that I originally drew up in answer to a request for recommendations of "good movies involving lesbian romances that don't end up with the protagonists deeply unhappy, dead, or both." To this set of criteria I’ve added the question, “Is the story primarily about coming out?” This set of index questions will necessarily involve some spoilers, but since I'm not reviewing any current releases, I think the statute of limitations has expired.

Many of these items are not currently in print. I'll link each to their imdb.com entry for reference. But for those currently available, Wolfe Video is the go-to distributor for lgbt movies.

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If These Walls Could Talk (2000) A television ... concept, I guess you'd call it, rather than trying to shoehorn it into "series" or "movie" or some such. Each set of shows revolves around the conceit of three different sets of inhabitants of the same location, at three different eras, each dealing with the same social "issue". The topic for the second "set" is lesbians, with stories set in 1961 (depressing and infuriating, no happy ending), 1972 (feminism vs. the Lavender Menace! butch-femme culture vs. crunchy-granola! happy ending!), and 2000 (in the heart of the "gay-by boom", light comedy, happy ending). Refreshingly, none of the stories is a basic "coming out" tale. While the first episode is Not Happy, it's the sort to drive you to march in the streets rather than to mope in the corner, and there isn't the slightest whiff of "punishment for sin" themes. Nobody turns straight or dies (well, technically someone dies but it's before the story opens). The middle episode is very atmospheric for its setting. Sure, it relies on "types" that veer close to being stereotypes, but they are also types that reflect actual significant themes and issues of the day. And the final segment, while still counting as a "period piece" at this point, is a cute snapshot of significant (though not universal) themes of the day. Given that the least positive segment comes first, watching the set as a whole helps wash the bitter taste away.

I don't know how well this triptych stands as "entertainment", but if someone is looking for an emotional understanding of what it meant to be a lesbian in recent generations, this is a useful contribution -- far more so than glamorized shows like The L Word.

Some day I'll figure out how to predict how much programming any given con is likely to allot. I guess Westercon balances out the one lone panel I've been assigned for Worldcon. Here's what I'll be doing on the official schedule. Beyond that, I'll be wandering around trying to balance out introvert-overload and the desire to make connections with people.

{C}

Friday, Jul 3, 2015 12:00PM - How Does YOUR Writing Vary in Different Lengths? (Pacific Salon Three)
How does your writing change between, i.e., short story v. novel length? John DeChancie, Buzz Dixon, Heather Rose Jones, Lisa Kessler, David D. Levine, Fred Wiehe

Friday, Jul 3, 2015 4:00PM - Endangered Languages (Sunset in Meeting House)
We worry about endangered species—but 80% of the world's languages will be dead by the century’s end, often with no fossil remains. Should we be concerned? What can be done? H. Paul Honsinger, Heather Rose Jones, Katharine B. Kerr, Will Morton, Jason Vanhee

Saturday, Jul 4, 2015 4:30PM - Heroines as Catalysts (Pacific Salon Seven)
Most genre fiction features male heroes leading doughty groups against the Big Bad, whether it's a futuristic amoral megacorporation or an evil wizard-king. There are a few two-fisted female gun-toters leading the action, but there are far more heroines who act as catalysts for change. Why is that, and how do they do it? Compare catalyst heroines in all genres. Tera Lynn Childs, Dana Fredsti, Jude-Marie Green, Heather Rose Jones, Jenna M. Pitman

Sunday, Jul 5, 2015 1:00PM - Autograph Session: T. Childs, H. Jones, T. McCaffrey (Autographing in the Dealers' Room)
Meet and ask for autographs from Tera Lynn Childs, Heather Rose Jones, and Todd McCaffrey. Tera Lynn Childs, Heather Rose Jones, Todd McCaffrey [Note: well, at least I won't be contributing to any traffic jams. Shall I start a betting pool for whether anyone shows up for me?]

Sunday, Jul 5, 2015 2:00PM - No Time to create? (Sunrise in Meeting House)
You really, really want to write or film or build, but how do you find the time? Heather Rose Jones, Kirsten Imani Kasai, Deirdre Saoirse Moen, Eric Shanower
 

I picked this novel to read for a somewhat atypical reason: I'm pre-supporting the bid to bring WorldCon to Helsinki in 2017 and thought it might be a good idea to read some Finnish SFF. Memory of Water was getting some positive buzz so I decided to check it out. The story was written by the author simultaneously in Finnish and English (rather than being an after-the-fact translation) and has a lyrical, dream-like, poetic style. The action takes place in a post-climate-apocalypse Finland where today's geography has been greatly altered by both rising sea levels and shifting political hegemonies that have brought a dictatorial Chinese-origin government to power. Safe, pure drinking water is a scarce and rationed resource and "water crimes" are addressed with ruthless punishment. In a context where sweet water is at a premium, the protagonist Noria's family profession of ceremonial Tea Master (from the Japanese tradition) might seem not merely anachronistic but oddly luxurious. The fact that their clientele include ranking members of the military occupation creates an intersection of privilege and peril. Water is the pervasive theme of the story. In the most obvious terms: the daily struggle of Noria and her neighbors to secure enough water for their needs without overtly overstepping the law. The secret that Noria's family protects that brings her into conflict with both those neighbors and the law. And then there's the mystery of what happened to the water of the past and whether the official story of scarcity should be taken at face value. But more than that, water becomes the metaphor for Noria's path through life. Not, as it turns out, the relentless force of water to wear away mountains and scour valleys, but the flow of water to fill itself into whatever container is presented. For Noria is oddly and unsatisfyingly passive as a protagonist. The ventures she makes with her close friend Sanja to explore the mysteries of the past feel accidental and directionless (and, ultimately, vain). Even that friendship doesn't feel like a driving force in her life (or in Sanja's) but rather something they have flowed into and can flow out of just as easily. Noria rarely seems to act from principle, but rather from habit and tradition and--when pushed to it--from guilt. I fear that in some ways my take on this book is poisoned by the relentless message of U.S. dystopian fiction that lone protagonists should take up direct action against the oppressive regime and make their mark on the world. (And I am concerned that this is such a US-centric take on the genre that I'm not letting the story stand on its own merits.) Noria's story is, perhaps, far more realistic than that one, but realistic stories of ordinary people who bring only ordinary resistance and come to ordinary fates don't make for gripping reading. The language is beautiful. The world-building is vivid and intriguing. But the characters and story...just didn't do it for me. I feel pity for Noria, but not sympathy.