The Best LGBTQ Shows and Movies Now on Max, from ‘Laramie Project’ to ‘Six Feet Under’

“All the Beauty and the Bloodshed” (2022)

Laura Poitras’ documentary of photographer and activist Nan Goldin gets its narrative structure and arc through its subject’s battle against the Sackler family and the opioid epidemic. But throughout the film are sections where Goldin tells her life story through narration and the pictures she’s taken over the years. It’s through these sections that the audience learns about Goldin’s long history as a documenter of the queer scenes she has lived in, from the friends she made to the people she slept with to the AIDS crisis that left her friends suffering. Goldin is a terrific screen presence and a terrific narrator, and her recounting of how the AIDS crisis impacted her art, and the loved ones she lost from it, is one of the most sobering recountings of the tragedy put to film in recent memory. —WC

“The Color Purple” (1985)

With a new screen adaptation of the hit Broadway musical it inspired on the way, there’s never been a better time to revisit this epic and highly influential classic. Based on the eponymous Alice Walker novel, producer Quincy Jones shrewdly enlisted Steven Spielberg — fresh off a hit with “E.T.” — to direct the historical Black drama. His calculation that Spielberg’s involvement would get the movie made and seen by Hollywood’s white gatekeepers was correct, but it still wasn’t enough to prevent some of the most glaring Oscar snubs in Academy Awards history. (The film was nominated for 11 Oscars, including Best Picture, and won zero.) While the book’s outright lesbian love story was made subtextual for the film, Whoopi Goldberg’s incredible performance as Celie Johnson leaves little room for interpretation. —JD

“Desert Hearts” (1985)

Donna Deitch’s seminal queer classic marked one of the first time lesbians could go into a movie theater and see two women in love. The romantic drama told the story of a Columbia professor (Helen Shaver) who falls in love with a country tomboy (Patricia Charbonneau) while awaiting a divorce. Shot by Oscar winner Robert Elswit (Paul Thomas Anderson’s frequent DP), “Desert Hearts” has a sweeping romantic look and an intimate celluloid glow. The air is charged between the two actresses, who were highly aware of the history they were making and delivered the passion. —JD

“Happy Together” (1997)

Tony Leung and Leslie Cheung chart the highs and lows of a toxic, tumultuous relationship in Wong Kar-wai’s 1997 “Happy Together” which, in its visual expressiveness and New Wave rhythms, resembles the work of a filmmaker discovering cinema for the first time. Argentina proves an evocative setting for the story of Ho and Lai — with the Iguazu Falls an especially vivid backdrop — whose break-ups and make-ups make for compelling cinema even as you wish they would just walk away from each other. Christopher Doyle’s dazzling cinematography delivers one of the most sensuous Wong movies ever. —RL
 

“Je Tu Il Elle” (1974)

Chantal Akerman, best known for the Sight & Sound poll topper “Jeanne Dielman,” made her directorial debut with 1974’s “Je, Tu, Il, Elle,” a landmark in the bisexual cinema pantheon. The slow, minimalist film sees Akerman direct herself as Julie, an aimless and lonely woman who goes on a road trip that leads her to sexual encounters with a male truck driver and her former girlfriend. Best known for the 14-minute long lesbian sex scene that closes it out, “Je Tu Il Elle” is a provocative and resonant film about connecting with people carnally, even when you can’t quite manage it emotionally. —WC

“Jennifer’s Body” (2009)

At the peak of her “Transformers” fame, Megan Fox starred in a little ol’ demonic possession flick called “Jennifer’s Body.” Directed by Karyn Kusama and written by Diablo Cody, the 2009 feminist fright fest was horrifically misunderstood upon release, with male audiences angry that it didn’t subvert the genre tropes they were interested in seeing subverted.

But hidden just beneath the surface was a heart-stopping revenge flick with plenty to say about patriarchy and power. It’s since become something of a cult classic among women and nonbinary horror fans, with particular attention paid to its brilliant queer and bisexual representation. —AF

Read IndieWire’s guide to the Best Horror Comedies of the 21st Century.

“The Laramie Project” (2002)

In 1998, college student Matthew Shepard was murdered in the city of Laramie, Wyoming, and his murderers received life setences for their assault on the gay teenager. Shepard’s death received significant media attention at the time, and the events surrounding it inspired “The Laramie Project”: a 2000 play by Moisés Kaufman inspired by interviews of Laramie citizens conducted by the Tectonic Theater Project. Kaufman would write and direct a film version of his play in 2002, featuring a gigantic ensemble cast that included Nestor Carbonell, Christina Ricci, Dylan Baker, Terry Kinney, Laura Linney, Clea DuVall, Michael Emerson, Margo Martindale, Steve Buscemi, Janeane Garofalo, Joshua Jackson, and Lois Smith. Remarkably, the film manages to retain the original play’s raw, documentary feel, while its top-notch cast does the searing, difficult material complete justice. —WC

“Love Is Strange” (2014)

Ira Sachs’ films vary between soft and hard-edged, distant and compassionate; what all of them have in common is a probing interest in the realities of relationships and the messy work it takes for two people to build a life together. In “Love is Strange,” one of Sachs’ warmest movies, there’s plenty of history for the director to mine in the relationship between the central duo: longtime partners Ben and George, played terrifically by Alfred Molina and John Lithgow. After almost 39 years of comittment, their comfortable lives are shaken up when they can no longer aford their apartment, and are forced to live seperately with friends. As they struggle to adapt to newfound distance, the film movingly and hilariously explores the difficulties and beauties of making a relationship last. —WC  

“Moonlight” (2016)

One of the most beloved and acclaimed films of the century, Barry Jenkins “Moonlight” is the story of Miami-born Chiron, and his growth from child (played by Alex R. Hibbert) to teenager (Ashton Sanders) to adult (Trevante Rhodes). Troubled and sensitive, Chiron struggles in school and at home with his troubled mother (Naomie Harris), finding solace only in his father figure Juan (Mahershala Ali), and in his tender friendship with Kevin (Jharrel Jerome and André Holland) — which, in a moment on the beach, blossoms into something more. Barry Jenkins’ cinematic heartbreaker is a thoughtful consideration of masculinity, Blackness, queerness, and sex, packaged together into one of the most moving film experiences of the last decade. —WC  

“Paris Is Burning” (1990)

Before “Pose” led to a surge in mainstream interest in ball culture, Jennie Livingston’s 1990 documentary “Paris is Burning” was probably the most famous depiction of the thriving subculture during its period of growth in the ‘80s. Featuring prominent members of the scene in prominent roles —  Pepper LaBeija, Dorian Corey, Angie Xtravaganza, and Willi Ninja included — the movie features incredible footage of the ball competitions that the various houses take part in, and shines a light on how its subjects deal with the racism, poverty, and homophobia surrounding them during the peak of the AIDS crisis. The film has never been without its controversy: several participants sought legal action due to feeling that they received no financial compensation for their work in the project. Still, it remains a vital historical record of one of the queer community’s most vibrant subcultures during one of its most spectacular periods. —WC

“Shiva Baby” (2020)

More stressful than most thrillers, the comedic “Shiva Baby” is the brilliantly uncomfortable feature debut of “Bottoms” director Emma Seligman. Rachel Sennott stars as college senior Danielle, a frequently messy Jewish woman who gets herself into a horrifically awkward situation when she ends up at a shiva with her parents, her sugar daddy (Danny Deferrari), and her sugar daddy’s wife (Dianna Agron). While attempting to avoid the landmines that the circumstances have caused, she flirts with her law school-bound ex Maya (Molly Gordon). Sennott is terrific as Danielle, who is best described as a classic gay disaster, screwing herself over and over time and again in a way that’s all too familiar to anyone who’s ever been young and dumb. And she and Maya have spicy chemistry that will make you swoon when you aren’t wincing. —WC

“The Times of Harvey Milk” (1984)

Way before Gus Van Sant’s rousing if glossy and conventionally shaped “Milk” biopic earned Sean Penn his second Best Actor Oscar for playing the first openly gay man to serve public office in California, Rob Epstein’s 1984 documentary “The Times of Harvey Milk” captured that watershed LGBTQ moment in time. Narrated by Harvey Fierstein (the ASMR poster boy for the gravel-voiced), this celebratory and unembellished film offers a rich and authoritative chronicle of Milk’s journey to becoming San Francisco’s first gay supervisor among the lively milieu of his cohorts and lovers. But it also snapshots the rise of San Francisco’s Castro neighborhood in becoming one of America’s gay meccas, and why that process was inextricable from Harvey’s influence.

Milk and San Francisco mayor George Moscone were assassinated by Dan White in 1978, shortly after the former’s victory over the Briggs Initiative and Proposition 6 (which sought to discriminate against public servants based on their sexual orientation), a tragedy that Epstein’s film deftly contextualizes into the larger fabric of American history. The cast of characters it introduces along the way represent a jaunty bunch, from Milk’s aide Anne Kronenberg to archival footage of Dianne Feinstein, who became mayor after Moscone’s death. All adored Milk, and this portrait helps us see why. The gay movement in the United States owes a great deal to Harvey Milk (as much as it does to Stonewall and to the ACT UP activists that fought against American governmental suppression of AIDS, a groundswell Milk would’ve undoubtedly been part of), and Epstein’s film now serves as a sobering reminder of how far we’re backsliding in his absence. —RL

“Victim” (1961)

One of the earliest films to explicitly acknowledge queerness in a positive light, 1961’s “Victim” took courage to release. It came out at a time when homosexuality was still illegal in England, and vicious censorship in both the United Kingdom and the United States threatened to leave it underappreciated. Directed by Basil Dearden, the neo-noir stars Dirk Bogarde as Melville Farr: a successful barrister on track to become a judge and seemingly happy in his marriage to wife Laura (Sylvia Syms). His perfectly and carefully compartamentalized life comes crashing down abruptly when he discovers a blackmail ring is threatening to expose his former relationship with a younger man. As he desperately attempts to chase down the culprits, the revelation of the romantic relationship puts a strain on his complicated union with his wife.

Nowadays, “Victim” is credited with helping to improve British support of queer rights, and ultimately the decriminalization of homosexuality six years later. Bogarde, himself a closeted gay man who never publicly came out during his lifetime, took on the film as a passion project, and his gorgeous, lived-in, and heartbreaking performance makes the story resonate far past the political circumstances it was created against. —WC

“Jerrod Carmichael: Rothaniel” (2022)

Jerrod Carmichael was a great comedian before “Rothaniel,” but his 2022 comedy special felt like a clear level-up, earning him his first Emmy Award, and an introduction into a new phase of his career. That becomes obvious before the special is even halfway through, when Carmichael comes out as gay onstage, to cheers from the audience. From that jumping point, Carmichael structures his set around questions of identity and honesty, as he speaks candidly about his struggles to come to terms with who he is and how his private coming out impacted his relationship with his family and loved ones. It’s moving, but never overly heavy, thanks to Carmichael’s understated but sharp comedy style that lands every punchline. He’s aided by gorgeous direction from Bo Burnham, and an unseen but very vocal audience, who frequently guide him through his storytelling by asking probing, intelligent questions about his self-discovery. Whether this seemingly raw audience interaction is actually unscripted is open to your interpretation; all that matters is that “Rothaniel” makes it feel real. —WC

“And Just Like That”

Has there ever been a title more descriptive of how a TV show landed into the media landscape? And just like that… people are declaring which “Sex and The City” character they are again. And just like that… Brady is having loud sex. And just like that… Che Diaz became a unifying cultural phenomenon, one you don’t know whether to love or hate or simply pat on the back in stunned amazement. Played by Sara Ramirez, the non-binary podcaster and “comedian” arrived like a thief in the night, sweeping Miranda off of her feet and out of her comfortable Brooklyn townhouse life — and marriage. Of the many unhinged choices Michael Patrick King made to usher the ladies into 2021, Che Diaz was the most chaotic. We may not like it, but it’s certainly one way to keep viewers tuning in week after week. —JD

“Angels in America”

One of the great plays of the 20th century becomes one of the great TV masterpieces of the 21st century. Mike Nichols directed HBO’s 2003 miniseries adaptation of Tony Kushner’s “Angels in America”: a sweeping text about a variety of people living in the mid-80s during the AIDS crisis, and the director did the beloved play justice with an incredible, lucious film version of the epic. It helps that he had so many brilliant actors in the cast — Al Pacino as Roy Cohen! Patrick Wilson as the closeted Joe! Mary-Louise Parker as his wife Harper! Justin Kirk as the prophetic Prior! Jeffrey Wright as the fabulous Belize! Emma Thompson as the angel! Meryl effing Streep as Joe’s mom! — who provide definitive interpretations of these classic characters. “Angels in America” is a masterpiece on stage and on screen, but the 2003 version might be just a bit more masterful than all the others. —WC

“Betty”

Since her impressive debut with 2015’s riveting hybrid documentary “The Wolfpack,” filmmaker Crystal Moselle has continued to push the envelope with her distinctive style. Her narrative feature debut “Skate Kitchen” (2018) was an evocative portrait of an all-girl skate crew, which cast first-time actors dripping with style and charisma and shaped the story around them. The result was one of the best movies in recent memory to portray contemporary young adult women with the style and tenacity they deserve.

Shrewdly building on the solid foundation Moselle laid in “Skate Kitchen,” HBO gave the filmmaker a six episode, half-hour series to further explore her unique cast of characters. Re-titled “Betty,” the show brings back tomboy shredder Camille (Rachelle Vinberg), stoner lothario Kirt (Nina Moran), beguiling weed dealer Indigo (Ajani Russell), shy but totally funky Honeybear (Moonbear), and good-natured Janay (Dede Lovelace). The members of the all girl skate crew spend their days nailing tricks, smoking weed, and alternately fighting and flirting with the asshole dudes who think they own the skate park. —JD

“Euphoria”

One of the most exciting TV discoveries of the 2019 season, “Euphoria” set the high bar for “teen” shows, if it can even be considered one. The characters in “Euphoria,” though in high school, act more like European 20somethings than American teenagers. But they certainly have their finger on the pulse when it comes to gender and sexuality. Pulsing with an innocent but open-minded eroticism, “Euphoria” wears its queerness like any Gen Z’er — casually and entirely. In addition to Zendaya’s star turn as sleepy tomboy Rue, the show also gifted the culture with the elusive and compelling Jules (Hunter Schafer), one of the best trans characters to ever grace a screen. —JD

“The Flight Attendant”

While it seems every show has a gay supporting character these days, “The Flight Attendant” has a few, all inside a quick-witted, totally addictive, woman-fronted thriller. “Big Bang Theory” star Kaley Cuoco made an impressive leap to prestige TV this year in this literary adaptation, which she also exectuive produced. We stan a woman making moves. 

With killer comedic instincts and hate-to-love-her charm, Cuoco thrives as Cassie, a flight attendant with a drinking problem who inadvertently stumbles into an international murder investigation after a promising one night stand. As she attempts to make sense of her blacked out memories, she is aided by co-worker Shane (Griffin Matthews) and stymied by her uptight brother Davey (T. R. Knight). With solid support from two gay characters, both with distinct personalities totally unrelated to the other — not to mention delicious turns from seasoned actresses Rosie Perez and Michelle Gomez — “The Flight Attendant” will have you flying high. —JD

“Gentleman Jack”

Created, written, and co-directed by Sally Wainwright (“Happy Valley,” “Last Tango in Halifax”), this lighthearted period dramedy tells the true story of Anne Lister, an early-19th century diarist and landowner who lived fairly openly as a lesbian. Wainwright had a wealth of material to draw from in Lister’s 4 million-word diary, and the relationships and characters are uncannily vibrant in their specificity. Lister was a dynamic figure who dressed in men’s undergarments, collected the rent for her family estate long before women got the vote, and wooed and bedded some of 19th-century England’s highest society women. The show is driven by a charismatic turn from British actress Suranne Jones, who imbues Anne with enough swagger to make any butch stand up a little taller. —JD 

“Hacks”

“Hacks” Season 2 leans heavily into Ava’s (Hannah Einbinder) queer identity. “You speak lesbian, because you’re half,” Deborah Vance (Jean Smart) tells her the night before she’s set to deliver her standup routine on an all-lesbian cruise in the middle of the ocean. The series created by Lucia Aniello, Paul W. Downs, and Jen Statsky seamlessly integrates Ava’s queerness as less a story device than a thing that’s just humming along in the background. The show is also careful to skewer the lopsidedness of attitudes — both hetero and homo — toward bisexuality as something that, as Carrie Bradshaw would say in another HBO series, is perceived as a “layover on the way to gay town.” “Hacks” is hilarious and touching in equal measure, like a vacation read you won’t want to put down. —RL

“Harley Quinn”

For a genre that thrives on hot people in tight clothing fighting each other, superhero media on TV and film can be boringly, insultingly straight. The queerness and campiness of the comics tend to get sanded off and replaced with, at most, embarrassing tokenism inserted in to fill a diversity quota (the “first gay character” in “Avengers: Endgame,” anyone?) Which is why it’s so refreshing to watch the HBO Max “Harley Quinn” series: a bawdy superhero comedy that contains one of the most rewarding queer love stories on TV.

Harley Quinn was a character initially defined solely by her obsessive love for the Joker, and attempts to move her beyond that zone have had mixed results. But Justin Halpern, Patrick Schumacker, and Dean Lorey’s animated series does it most successfully, telling a lovely story of growth and recovery from a toxic relationship through Harley’s friendship and eventual romance with her best friend Poison Ivy. The two are heavily flawed villains, and “Harley Quinn” doesn’t shy away from portraying the numerous faults both have as individuals and romantic partners. But it’s also surprisingly and movingly sincere about how their relationship makes them better people, even when they’re planning to destroy Gotham City as a testament to their love. —WC 

“I May Destroy You”

The majority of the brilliant “I May Destroy You” focuses on Arabella (Michaela Coel, who also wrote the show) and her struggles to pick her life up following her sexual assault. But the show is concerned with issues of consent from every angle, and so Arabella’s friend Kwame (a terrific Paapa Essiedu) is also provided a meaty subplot about his own dating life and his eventual sexual assault. The show’s depiction of modern queer dating is one of the most realistic put on TV, with attention to detail on hookups, bisexual erasure, and the specific experiences of Black queer men that feels granular and specific without crossing over to didactic. Kwame’s assault is shattering — so much so that he goes a long time before hr can admit it happened — and watching him recover from it, and find a way to let himself open up to a real relationship, is one of queer TV’s most difficult but rewarding stories. —WC

“Irma Vep”

French director Olivier Assayas walked a tightrope with his 1996 unclassifiable, meta-moviemaking drama “Irma Vep.” It starred Hong Kong icon Maggie Cheung as herself, starring in a French film whose director was played by cinema legend Jean-Pierre Leaud, as they attempted to remake Louis Feuillade’s classic silent film serial “Les Vampires.” A treatise on Hollywood? A lampoon of the French film industry? A meta exercise in the negotiations between a major actress and a serious director? All of the above.

Now, Assayas has remade his own movie with Alicia Vikander as the movie star, a blockbuster icon now flung out of her element in Paris. She’s on the set of the “Vampires” remake, reeling from a breakup with her former assistant, who she’s begging to get back. Only one episode in, and Assayas’ HBO Max series establishes itself as a slinky, loose-limbed takedown of the movie business and a queer woman’s shattering psyche. —RL

“It’s a Sin”

Since creating “Queer As Folk” (the original, pithier British one) in 1999, Russell T. Davies has been one of the most reliable creators of quality LGBTQ entertainment. After a hiatus as showrunner of “Doctor Who,” where he left an indelible mark on the landmark series, Davies returned to his LGBTQ roots with two queer miniseries: “A Very English Scandal” and “It’s a Sin.”

In five episodes that are equally heartwrenching and fun, “It’s a Sin” colors its AIDS story with a new layer — joy. Set in London throughout the 1980s, the series follows a group of queer friends as they navigate the early days of the epidemic through its worst times. But “It’s a Sin” is, at its heart, a celebration of the community that was lost, making it all the more tragic without flattening the human stories to another number. By sublimating the tragedy in favor of pleasure, Davies offers a much more realistic portrait of queer life at its most critical era. —JD

“The Lady and the Dale”

Truth is always stranger than fiction, and in the case of “The Lady and the Dale,” wildly so. HBO’s four-part docu-series, executive-produced by the Duplass Brothers and directed by Nick Cammilleri and Zackary Drucker, charts the improbable story of Elizabeth “Liz” Carmichael, a larger-than-life entrepreneur who developed a fuel-efficient three-wheeled car named The Dale at the height of the 1970s oil crisis. While The Dale was her crowning achievement, Carmichael’s life took more twists and turns than the futuristic three-wheeler’s ill-fated test run.

Part investigative mystery, part eccentric character study, “The Lady and the Dale” renders Liz’s adventurous life with inventive zeal, using whimsical paper cutout animation to bring life to the decades-old characters. A subject of media fascination at the time, Liz’s identity as a transgender woman became inextricably linked to her duplicitous business dealings, making her a powerful, real-world example of the “trans deception” trope at its most insidious. Her trans-ness is explored with tender nuance; carefully extricated from the more complicated parts of her story and contextualized in trans history. While not the whole story, this is one of the reasons “The Lady and the Dale” is essential viewing. —JD

“Last Call: When a Serial Killer Stalked Queer New York”

True crime is a fraught genre, consumed by millions in rapid supply but constantly under criticism for exploiting victims, glamorizing killers, and neglecting important issues of police corruption and race. From director Anthony Caronna, “Last Call”is a careful, conscious rejection of true crime’s common failings. The four-part HBO series tells the story of four queer men murdered by an unidentified killer in Manhattan between 1991 and 1993. The so-called Last Call killer, who was convicted for two of the murders in 2005, gets some backstory in the fourth episode in order to explore the ways institutional homophobia allowed his killings, but the series doesn’t linger on him. Instead, “Last Call” makes an effort to prioritize the victims beyond all else, as their surviving loved ones share their stories and memories, while queer activists of the early ’90s dig into the police prejudice that helped the murderer escape consequence for so long. It’s a searing, emotional work that trades the surface-level thrills of true crime for something far more impactful. —WC

“The Last of Us”

The cast of “The Last of Us” is too busy surviving in their bleak world for much in the way of romance. But when the videogame adaptation lets a little joy break into the misery it tends to be the queer kind. The series caused a major stir during its first season for its acclaimed standalone episode “Long, Long Time,” which stars Nick Offerman and Murray Bartlett as two gay men who attempt to build a life together in the remnants of their broken civilization. The two are only in a single episode, but the queerness doesn’t stop there, because series lead Elle (played in an MVP performance by nonbinary performer Bella Ramsey) is also queer, and gets her own wistful love story with Storm Reid’s Riley in the episode “Left Behind.” —WC

“Looking”

Created by “Weekend” filmmaker Andrew Haigh, “Looking” is often dubbed the gay “Girls.” While Haigh’s understated style was an outlier against the snappy tone of episodic storytelling of the time, “Looking” has aged almost as well as its star Murray Bartlett. Naturalistic and a bit drifting, “Looking” follows a group of friends living in San Francisco, mainly following the romantic entanglements of a well-meaning but mostly clueless white boy named Patrick (Jonathan Groff). The series introduced viewers to the now-iconic Bartlett, as well as Russell Tovey, Raúl Castillo, and Lauren Weedman. With a stylish perspective on everyday interpersonal dramas and charming performances, it’s well worth a revisit. —JD

“Los Espookys”

There aren’t enough shows aimed at queer weirdos, which makes the too-soon cancellation of the proudly freaky  “Los Espookys” sting all the harder. Over the course of two seasons, the Spanish language comedy series — created by Julio Torres, Ana Fabrega, and Fred Armisen, all of whom starred — marched by the beat of its own drum, telling wild stories about a group of misfit, mostly queer friends who create their own business of bringing horror film hoaxes to life. Episodes swerve into bizarre storylines with haunted mirror demons, water spirits, and rewriting Don Quixote for children, all portrayed with a melodramatic, campy touch and delightfully ramshackle special effects. And although the Espookys’ sexualities usually aren’t the main focus, the show isn’t shy about it either — particularly with Andrés (Torres, a standout in a rock-solid ensemble), a pampered, preening prince who flits around from man to ma, -looking for someone to take care of him. In most shows, a figure like Andrés would be a joke — in the off-kilter, sweet, and queer world of “Los Espookys,” he’s a flawed but fabulous hero. —WC

“Nuclear Family”

In this sensitive and gripping three-part docuseries, indie filmmaker Ry Russo-Young (“Nobody Walks,” “Before I Fall”) mines her personal history for a compelling cautionary tale about the early days of queer parenting. Through interviews with her two moms, thoughtful Robin and headstrong Russo, Russo-Young tells the story of her family; how it came to be and how it almost was torn apart. Pioneers of lesbian parenting, Robin and Russo had a fantasy of collective queer parenting, inviting their gay sperm donors into their family lives. But without a roadmap or a legal agreement, their queer utopia is disrupted when Ry’s bio-dad suddenly reneges on his agreement. Darkly personal, surprisingly funny at times, and engaging from start to finish, an important chapter of queer history is artfully preserved. —JD

“The Other Two”

One of the funniest actual comedies to come out in recent memory, “The Other Two” humiliates its diabolically self-involved characters with surgical and distinctly millennial precision. Created by former “SNL” co-head writers Chris Kelly and Sarah Schneider, “The Other Two” revolves around two adult siblings, one a struggling actor (Drew Tarver) and the other just struggling (Heléne Yorke), whose younger brother becomes an overnight Justin Bieber-like sensation via YouTube. With ambitions thwarted and egos crushed, they must jump on the bandwagon and attempt to ride his success.

Tarver and York have an endlessly appealing frisson, and Molly Shannon is hilarious as their faux-naive stage mother who secretly loves the spotlight. We can thank HBO Max for rescuing “The Other Two” from Comedy Central cable login purgatory and making it available for countless re-watches. —JD

“Our Flag Means Death”

“When [Taika Waititi and I] were talking about it early on, the reason to do the show is figuring out how these two people fell in love,” series creator David Jenkins told IndieWire of the “Our Flag Means Death” Season 1 finale in 2022. “It’s essentially a rom-com. It’s a pirate romance between these two characters.” Starring Rhys Darby as Stede “The Gentleman Pirate” Bonnet opposite Waititi as Ed “Blackbeard” Teach, the beloved HBO Max comedy charts one man’s unlikely journey into piracy and the depths of love. —AF

“Search Party”

One of the funniest and sharpest shows on television arrived on HBO Max not a moment too soon and just in time to premiere its long-simmering third and fourth seasons practically back to back. Originally premiering on TBS in 2016, the wryly funny hipster murder mystery was the perfect balm in a stormy sea of apocalyptic news, balancing a fatalistic sense of humor with compelling storytelling and a healthy sense of self-deprecation for an entire generation of disaffected semi-youth.

Created by Charles Rogers and Sarah Violet Bliss with Michael Showalter, “Search Party” revolves around a group of four friends who unwittingly become involved in an acquaintance’s death. The latest seasons continue to push the dark comedy envelope further into probing social satire, revealing the courage and creativity to push the envelope ever further. —JD

“Six Feet Under”

Premiering on HBO in 2001, “Six Feet Under” was once as important to the HBO brand as “The Sopranos” was. Created by gay screenwriter Alan Ball, the hour-long dark comedy takes place in a family-run funeral home, and each episode opens with a death scene. But the heart of the series is the lovably eccentric members of the Fischer family, who are reluctantly thrust together after the death of their patriarch. In addition to just being extremely good TV that never dips in quality over six seasons, “Six Feet Under” introduced much of America to its first long-term committed gay relationship in Keith (Mathew St. Patrick) and David (Michael C. Hall). Though they had their ups and downs, ultimately their relationship became the show’s strongest and most enduring, as confirmed by the gutting last episode, which ranks high on any list of the best TV finales ever. —JD

“Somebody Somewhere”

Who would have thought that the powerhouse cabaret performer Bridget Everett would produce one of the most elegant and nuanced TV shows about small-town life? Kansas City stands in for anywhere, U.S.A. in this understated and poignant comedy, which mines humor and meaning from the humdrum reality of real people. Guided by the deftly funny touch of writers Hannah Bos and Paul Thureen (“Driveways”), “Somebody Somewhere” finds subtle drama in the every day: Aging parents, entrenched sibling dynamics, and unrealized dreams. What else is there to life, really? The charming Jeff Hiller, too often relegated to cliched character bits, is given center stage as a sweetly optimistic gay man making the best of dating in the Midwest. New York drag legend Murray Hill sheds his flashier bits to play Sam Rococo, offering a rare depiction of a small-town trans man finding happiness. Everett is every bit the hilarious ringleader, but she also sets the tone with a down-to-earth pathos. As delightful as it is moving, “Somebody Somewhere” is a rare and gentle gem in the noisy TV landscape. —JD

“Sort Of”

Sabi, the protagonist played by Bilal Baig in the Canadian dramedy “Sort Of,” is in many respects exactly the type of character we’ve seen in so many shows of its ilk. Like Hannah Horvath or any dramedy protagonist, they’re slightly directionless, bad at communication, with a tendency to get themselves into emotionally fraught situations. Sabi’s identity as a Pakistani nonbinary person sets them apart from almost everyone around them, and it bleeds into their different lives — as the nanny of their friend’s kids, as a bartender at a queer café, as the child of a dysfunctional family of immigrants — in varying ways. But Baig and Fab Filippo’s series doesn’t treat its lead as an educational tool for white cis people that may be watching. Instead, Sabi’s allowed to be a beautifully complicated mess, and the series is all the richer for it. —WC

“Steven Universe”

Animation wasn’t exactly a queer wasteland before “Steven Universe” came to town — “Sailor Moon,” you will always be famous! But what gay characters existed in shows aimed at kids were generally hidden, and their queerness only hinted at instead of confirmed. Rebecca Sugar’s “Steven Universe” changed that in its Season 1 finale, “Jail Break,” which revealed that Garnet — the badass alien gemstone and the leader of her squad of Earth’s protectors — is actually the product of a fusion between Ruby and Sapphire, two female gems who love each other.

That was a boundary breaking moment, and “Steven Universe” could have made history just by resting on those laurels alone. But the show didn’t stop getting more and more queer: Ruby and Sapphire married, the tortured love of Pearl for the late Rose Quartz was explored in more depth, and the title character and his friend Connie fused to form a nonbinary character “Stevonnie.” Sugar’s show lead to an explosion of children’s series with more explicitly gay characters, but you got to give credit where credit is due. This sparkling series paved the way. —WC

“Tuca and Bertie”

The dearly departed “Tuca and Bertie” was one of TV’s best shows about friendship, dating, and being a hot mess: tried and true subject matter many queer people can relate to. The titular avian duo — impulsive party animal toucan Tuca (Tiffany Haddish) and sensible but anxious song thrush Bertie (Ali Wong) — have one of TV’s loveliest friendships, as the two total opposites support each other through career and romantic struggles. While the main romantic relationship of the show is between Bertie and her adorably square boyfriend Speckle (Steven Yeun), Tuca is very much an out-and-proud bisexual bird, flitting around from romantic partners of all genders and species.

Season 2, the show’s finest outing, features Tuca entering a relationship with Kara (Sasheer Zamata), a seagull nurse. Initially a positive bond, the show steadily tracks the flaws in the pairing, as Kara puts Tuca down and forces her to change to fit the mold of her perfect partner. It’s a hard few episodes to watch, but a fascinating and rare TV depiction of a genuinely toxic queer relationship and a satisfying arc for Tuca as she learns with Bertie’s support how to be more unapologetically herself. —WC
 

“Veneno”

The sleeper hit of the season, this brilliant Spanish drama tells the story of Cristina Ortiz Rodríguez, a real-life transgender singer also known as La Veneno. After appearing on one of Spain’s popular late-night TV shows, La Veneno became a beloved national celebrity in Spain. Told between flashbacks and the present, the eight-episode series follows the ups and downs of her improbable life, from childhood traumas to the creation of a charismatic persona that afforded her the freedom to be an inspiration to generations of queer and trans people. —JD

“We Are Who We Are” (2020)

Luca Guadagnino’s divisive 2020 limited series focuses on the struggles of growing into your identity and the joys of queer friendship and community. Set in 2016 during the run-up to the U.S. election, the series follows the lives of various teenagers living on an American military base located near Venice, Italy. At the heart of the group is Fraser (Jack Dylan Grazer), a bratty 14 year-old who moved to the base with his mothers and begins questioning his sexuality, and Caitlin (Jordan Kristine Seamón), a confident mainstay of the base who experiments with their gender identity. Guadagnino’s show is a bit of a mixed bag, with some wild narrative swings that don’t hit and dangling plot threads that never quite resolve. But the tender friendship and bond between Caitlin and Fraser is exceptional, and the show’s earnest exploration of growing into your queerness has all the honesty and romance of Guadagnino’s “Call Me By Your Name.” —WC

“The White Lotus”

A show that needs no introduction is a rarity these days, but Mike White’s over-the-top class satire is one of the few shows keeping appointment viewing alive. (The others, “Succession” and “The Last of Us,” are also on HBO.) For those of us who like a lot of camp with our intrigue, there’s nothing more addictive than the high-budget, low-class drama of the self-absorbed elite in “The White Lotus.” From Murray Bartlett’s fugue-state breakdown in Season 1, to Jennifer Coolidge’s iconic “these gays, they’re trying to murder me” awakening, White seems to have crafted the beats of his darkly witty melodrama like a queer fantasy football league. Sardonic Aubrey Plaza, a gay cabal, and an ensemble of newly discovered eye candy that can also act? Leave it to a bisexual to exactly know what everyone wants. —JD

“The Wire”

Though it may have caused terror in the streets, when fans of “The Wire” hear the warning call “Omar’s coming” — it announced the arrival of one of television’s greatest gay characters of all time, Omar Little. Played by the late Michael Kenneth Williams, Omar was the hardest vigilante poet on the tough streets of Baltimore, doling out his own form of justice and taking care of his own. But don’t just take our word for it: None other than President Barack Obama called Omar his favorite TV character on one of the best shows of all time. Omar’s hall of fame status often overshadows the show’s other queer character: Detective Kima Greggs, played by the also excellent Sonja Sohn. Not only is Kima a more central figure in David Simon’s urban epic, but her ongoing relationship with Cheryl (Melanie Nicholls-King), though tumultuous, is a loving and realistic portrayal of an everyday partnership between two Black women. —JD