#chosen-family

#chosen-family

Released in October 2000, The Broken Hearts Club hit theaters at a time when queer films in Hollywood were still being defined by tragedy, dated stereotypes, or coming-out angst. Directed by future TV/movie titan Greg Berlanti in his feature film debut, the movie instead focused on something refreshingly ordinary: friendship, dating, and the importance of chosen family among a close group of 20something gay men in West Hollywood.

Set in 1982, 11-year-old Lidia (newcomer Tamara Cortés) is coming of age in a mining town in the Atacama Desert, Chile. The young girl is the baby in a chosen family of LGBTQ+ performers, all of whom care fiercely for her. But Lidia is nestled under the loving Flamingo's wing (played by Matías Catalán) and within the matriarchal care of Mama Boa (Paula Dinamarca).

As the oldest of three sisters who grew up with two nurturing parents and involved grandparents nearby, my home and family mean everything to me. My family has always been my rock: from attending my first Pride parade with me when I came out as queer in high school to having my entire family drive six hours each way to move me in when I went to college.

Fresh out of juvenile prison, 18-year-old Wellington (Joao Pedro Mariano) finds himself at a crossroads; abandoned by his parents, the wide-eyed young man finds solace in the arms of others. On an evening out with his rowdy group of queer and non-binary friends, Wellington crosses paths with Ronaldo (Ricardo Teodoro), a hunky, charismatic hustler more than twice his age. Bathed in the flickering glow of a neon-lit porn cinema, their first meeting is sensuous and erotic, with an edge of danger.

"When Tina Romero set out to make a zombie movie, she knew she'd follow some of her father's rules for the undead. First, the zombies would be slow and shuffling, unlike the running ghouls of "28 Days Later" or the fast-moving hordes of "World War Z." Second, to kill them, you'd have to kill their brain. Third, a single bite from a zombie would turn you into one."

"What are you doing for Thanksgiving?" I have been asking myself this question since late summer as I sort through my work calendar, restaurant openings, and vacation schedules. My family asks too, and my friends remind me of their standing invites. I'm still not quite sure as I write this letter. I have been traveling the last few Thanksgivings-usually for work-and have had to send kind wishes through group chats and swoon over turkey and dressing and dishes of macaroni and cheese on FaceTime.

Charles says he instantly felt a bond when I demanded to sit on his lap as a toddler. All I know is that he has been the only man my mother has brought home (besides my father) that I've liked and accepted. While there was no initial plan to stay in my life, life (as we know all too well) had other plans.