The Best LGBTQ TV Shows and Movies of 2023

“The Last of Us” (Season 1, HBO)

How it’s queer: “The Last of Us” Episode 3, titled “Long, Long Time,” was a headline-making tearjerker that saw Nick Offerman and “White Lotus” Season 1 star Murray Bartlett playing survivalist farmers living as close to an idyllic life as they could muster in a world overrun by zombies — before tragedy inevitably strikes the dreamy couple’s protected compound. But the whole show is queer with nonbinary lead Bella Ramsey playing lesbian hero Ellie opposite Storm Reid as love interest Riley in Episode 7, “Left Behind.” 

Why it’s exceptional: In a sci-fi world overwrought with suffering, “The Last of Us” is believably emotional without playing too much into queer cliche. HBO’s new hit makes LGBTQ characters an intrinsic part of its fabric throughout. But its most memorable episodes focus in on their homo-romances, giving us some classic horror beats through a lens that’s radically more inclusive. —AF

Read IndieWire’s Review of “The Last of Us” Season 1: “One of the best things a show can do is break the illusion that everything is a foregone conclusion. Sometimes you’re fortunate enough to enjoy storytelling that makes each choice feel like just one of a wave of possibilities. Watching Episode 3 of ‘The Last of Us’ for a second time, it’s hard not to be struck by that first meeting of Bill (Nick Offerman) and Frank (Murray Bartlett), when one single decision sets the events of the next 16 years in motion. After Frank falls in a makeshift trap Bill set up to snag would-be invaders, the gruff libertarian and self-described ‘survivalist’ decides to let in his first houseguest since at least the end of the world. That split-second choice turns out to be the thing that changes both of their lives.” —Steve Greene 

“Of an Age” (dir. Goran Stolevski)

How it’s queer: Out Macedonian-Australian filmmaker Goran Stolevski’s bittersweet love story summons memories of “Weekend” and “Before Sunrise” in the romance between an Aussie dancer and his friend’s older brother. Kol (Elias Anton) and Adam (Thom Green) first bond over Franz Kafka, Tori Amos, and Wong Kar Wai’s “Happy Together” over a leisurely, hot car ride, stoking an overnight connection that carries into the next decade during a run-in at a wedding.  

What makes it exceptional: “Of an Age” is an exquisitely shot and aching ode to furtive glances and verbal attraction. Stolevski freely quotes from his own queer media literacy in bonding Kol and Adam in their mutual love of obscure music and movies. Adam is an idealization of the kind of person that young closeted gay people yearn to connect with, especially those struggling socially who bury themselves in the arts rather than people, who mostly disappoint anyway. “Of an Age” should offer anyone who loves turning a missed romantic opportunity over and over in their minds, going in circles over what went wrong or didn’t, a chance to relive regret all over again. —RL 

“Yellowjackets” (Season 2, Showtime)

How it’s queer: In Season 2 of Showtime’s supernatural plane crash saga, Liv Hewson and Jasmin Savoy Brown return to the woods as the younger versions of survivors Van and Taissa — while Tawny Cypress as adult Taissa is joined by cast newcomer Lauren Ambrose as adult Van in the present day. The whole sophomore outing was a campier, gayer affair than the freshman season, but specifically developed the pair’s relationship into a more believable lesbian coming-of-age romance. 

Why it’s exceptional: Could any show but “Yellowjackets” pull off one girl professing her love to another by using the blood from her freshly bitten lip to write “I love you…” on her girlfriend’s withered arm? The young lovers were the heart of the show from the beginning, but Van and Taissa were especially compelling this time around. And what’s gayer than Shauna’s obsession with Jackie? —AF

Read IndieWire’s Review of “Yellowjackets” Season 2: “‘Yellowjackets’ remains wickedly clever. Great jokes pop up consistently (Misty gets the most, but don’t sleep on Shauna), and the performances, soundtrack, and thematic focus remain first-rate. Season 2 pits its characters in quite the quandary: How much do they have to change, in order to live a healthy and lengthy life? But that’s balanced against how much they want to change.” —Ben Travers

“Schmigadoon!” (Season 2, Apple TV+)

How it’s queer: How is it not? Apple TV+’s premiere streaming musical relocates to “Schmicago” for six episodes looking at jazzier mid-century musicals with a cast including queer stars Tituss Burgess, Dove Cameron, Ariana DeBose, Alan Cumming, and more in a season following Season 1 protagonists Josh (Keegan-Michael Key) and Melissa (Cecily Strong) as a straight married couple attempting to rekindle the joy they found in the town of Schmigadoon. 

Why it’s exceptional: A stellar cast, over-the-top gorgeous production design, catchy tunes, and impressive choreography make the encore performance of this song-and-dance favorite one of the more outright entertaining gay titles of the year. —AF

Read IndieWire’s Review of “Schmigadoon!” Season 2: “‘Schmigadoon!’ Season 2 finds Josh and Melissa in a slightly different state. They’re married now, but something is a little off. Now finding themselves a second time in a mystical place at the end of a foggy bridge, their new temporary home of Schmicago has some slightly different surprises in store. Those new wrinkles make room for a little more darkness, a little more pizzazz, and an ambiance that goes beyond one-size-fits-most. The underlying formula is still generally the same, but used to different ends, swapping in the revolutionary history of ’70s Broadway as the base. With that slight tweak in approach, this “Schmigadoon!” Season 2 trip might actually have a better chance at reeling in fans who aren’t automatically sold just by the premise.” —SG

“Dead Ringers” (Amazon Prime Video)

How it’s queer: Taking over Jeremy Irons’ parts from the original 1988 David Cronenberg film, lesbian (adjacent) icon Rachel Weisz leads as twin gynecologists Beverly and Elliot Mantle in a spine-tingling role that has the actress doubling as two sides of one supremely slippery coin in this tale of duplicitous doctors who will stop at nothing to forward their own agendas. 

Why it’s exceptional: “Dead Ringers” lets women be evil and then some, with complex queer manipulation at play that make an already startling premise take on a wicked new viciousness that elevates and justifies its six-episode arc. —AF

Read IndieWire’s List of the Best New Shows of 2023: “A lot of coverage for Alice Birch’s Prime Video series raves at the double dose of Rachel Weisz — and for good reason. Weisz is all but transcendent as twins Elliot and Beverly in this adaptation of the 1988 David Cronenberg film, superbly directed and edited to maximize psychological dread. Hollywood doesn’t shy away from the horrors of childbirth, but ‘Dead Ringers’ tangles that all up in sisterly affection and abandonment, scientific stigma, death and sex. Beverly’s yearning for motherhood is inextricably linked to her independence and dependence on Elliot, while everything around them must contort to fit into a life occupied by not one but two people. At six episodes, it doesn’t prolong the tension too tortuously, but keeps it at a sustained, suspenseful hum throughout. It’s a masterful adaptation and turn for a dangerously talented actor.” —Proma Khosla

“The Other Two” (Season 3, Max)

How it’s queer: Cary Dubek becomes Disney’s so-called “first” openly gay character in Season 3 of “The Other Two”: a finale victory lap for the Max series that let Drew Tarver go out on a high — before letting his character fall apart over an obsessive need to get an Oscar — as the older brother to his hyper-successful pop star sibling next to Heléne Yorke’s retired dancer-turned-assistant Brooke. 

Why it’s exceptional: Season 3 wasn’t the best of “The Other Two” (hilariously, the other two are far better), but its singular voice shines through every episode with a number of particularly gay storylines coming towards the end. —AF

“Monica” (dir. Andrea Pallaoro)

How it’s queer: Trace Lysette stars as a trans woman who hesitantly reconnects with her mother (Patricia Clarkson) during her dying days in “Monica”: a rich portrait of longing and the intimate disconnects found in the divides we can’t bridge. 

Why it’s exceptional: Visually stunning and poetic in its execution, the critically acclaimed drama premiered at Venice and has received extensive praise for its complex consideration of grief and forgiveness — as well as accolades for its committed, nuanced acting portryals that value silence and restraint as much as passion. —AF

Read IndieWire’s Review of “Monica”:  “Mirrors are more than just refracted light — they are how we see ourselves and a reflection of how others see us. Reflections are everywhere in ‘Monica,’ an understated family drama starring Trace Lysette as a woman who reluctantly returns home to see her estranged and ailing mother. Shot in an elegant 1:1 aspect ratio, we see Monica through French doors left ajar, in the glass frames of childhood photos, and the patina of the antique mirror in her mother’s girlish bedroom. If there is a reflection to be found, Monica is there.

Caustic and frail, Eugenia (Clarkson) doesn’t recognize her daughter, though it’s unclear whether that’s the dementia or because Monica is trans. Spare but poignant, ‘Monica’ is a pensive family drama that’s loaded with the empty space of things left unsaid.” —Jude Dry

“Will-o’-the-Wisp” (dir. João Pedro Rodrigues)

How it’s queer: João Pedro Rodrigues directs this phantasmagorical and very sexy musical rom-com about Portuguese prince Alfredo (Mauro Costa) who flees royal life to become a rookie fireman, falling in love with one of his fellow men in red (André Cabral). 

Why it’s exceptional: At just a sliver over an hour long, “Will-o’-the-Wisp” is the most potently joyous of any queer film to come out this year. From his deathbed in 2069, Alfredo recounts his teenaged erotic odyssey through the firehouse across a tableau vivant of exuberantly staged (and quite naked) choreography. Rodrigues is best known as the transgressive queer filmmaker behind cult gay classics like “O Fantasma,” about a dissolute trash collector on a psychosexual bender in Lisbon. With “Will-o’-the-Wisp,” the director once again combines social commentary (environmentalism is at the fore as Portugal wildfires burn all around and Alfredo cites an anachronistic speech from Greta Thunberg) with filmmaking that succeeds on its own terms as entertainment. Can’t a movie be both? —RL

“Somebody Somewhere” (Season 2, HBO)

How it’s queer: Bridget Everett returns as Sam in Season 2 of “Somebody Somewhere”: a warm and grounded tribute to small-town queer community also starring Jeff Hiller as Joel, her best friend in barely tolerable Kansas suburb. —AF 

Why it’s exceptional: Minor key, major impact. Co-created by Hannah Bos and Paul Thureen, “Somebody Somewhere” is a series so sweet it may be overwhelming and so tender it will leave you shaken. Bridget Everett plays Sam, a native Kansan brought back to her hometown by her ailing, now deceased, sister. At first, the complexities of grief and seeming simplicity of small-town livin’ confounded Sam, leaving her lost and a little bit angry. But in Season 2, she’s found her people. She’s hit her pace. She’s searching again, in a manner that’s healthy and captivating. “Somebody Somewhere” feels similarly confidant, matching its lead character while building on the sturdy blocks that launched an impressive first season. There’s plenty of formal choices that help set the half-hour comedy apart from the rest of TV — its setting, its tempo, its patience, its cast, I mean, Everett’s performance, along with Jeff Hiller and a dynamite Mary Catherine Garrison, are reason enough to tune in — but its sensitive spirit, so tuned in to its big, beating heart, will soon have yours pounding, as well. —BT

“Blue Jean” (dir. Georgia Oakley)

How it’s queer: Georgia Oakley’s feature debut “Blue Jean” is a coming-out story set in the oppressive Thatcher world of 1980s Britain as a PE teacher (played beautifully by Rosy McEwen) in Newcastle deals with homophobia in the workplace that now threatens her queer private life. 

Why it’s exceptional: “Blue Jean” shimmers with the confidence of an already much-heralded filmmaker, suffusing the sort of British 1980s kitchen sink aesthetic we associate with Mike Leigh and Ken Loach with a gritty lyricism worthy of Lynne Ramsay. The film is never sentimental or clichéd or generous with easy emotions, even as Jean’s (McEwen) compartmentalized world blows open with the introduction of a new student, played by Lucy Halliday, who threatens to expose her identity to her peers. The chemistry Oakley shares with McEwen, who gets the award for best coming-out-to-your-asshole-family scene of the year, across the camera results in one of the most moving queer debuts in recent times. —RL

“Nimona” (dirs. Nick Bruno and Troy Quane)

How it’s queer: Directed by Nick Bruno and Troy Quane, and adapted from ND Stevenson’s graphic novel of the same name, this fantasy adventure story centers on the Institute for Elite Knights, where the titular female hero (Chloë Grace Moretz) joins a fugitive knight (Riz Ahmed) and his boyfriend (Eugene Lee Yang) as they attempt to clear his name.  

Why it’s exceptional: In addition to boasting a jaw-droppingly beautiful animation style, “Nimona” sets a great example with a believable, joyous centerpiece relationship that doesn’t make being queer the whole epic’s point and values friendship as much as romance. —AF

Read IndieWire’s Review of “Nimona”: “‘Nimona’ unfolds in a storybook animation style that blends the ancient and futuristic influences into a singular story. The film is never afraid to follow its characters into dark places, eschewing convenient answers in favor of the bittersweet realities of life. And rather than force fans to read between the lines, the gay romance that forms its emotional core is given room to flourish in plain sight.” —Christian Zilko

“Theater Camp” (dirs. Molly Gordon and Nick Lieberman)

How it’s queer: A summer camp so gay attendees are worried to come out to their parents as straight takes center stage in this zany comedy starring Molly Gordon and Ben Platt as theater-obsessed camp counselors. 

Why it’s exceptional: Weaving queerness into every aspect of the world it fabricates, “Theater Camp” somehow manages to further reinforce the bond between musicality and gayness with delightful panache. —AF

Read IndieWire’s Review of “Theater Camp”: “While the entire film is very amusing, the first half in particular is chock-a-block with jokes that don’t let up (everything from plans for a production of ‘Crucible Jr.’ to an introduction to the ‘Fosse Kids’ is funny, and the film makes off with a late-breaking gag about JFK that’s painfully, darkly hilarious). But there’s plenty of heart here, much of it livened up by a wonderful cast of young stars who play the plucky campers, including Bailee Bonick, Donovan Colan, Luke Islam, and ‘Minari’ breakout Alan Kim. They’re credible as rising theater stars (and movie stars to boot), adding veracity to this already winning outing.” —Kate Erbland

“Passages” (dir. Ira Sachs)

How it’s queer: Your basic love triangle with heart-shattering consequences takes on even rougher edges in Ira Sachs’ “Passages,” starring Adèle Exarchopoulos, Franz Rogowski, and Ben Whishaw. 

Why it’s exceptional: This layered look at nonmonogamy and betrayal considers the fluid nature of sexual orientation — and brilliantly separates quality of character from legitimacy of desire or pursuit in a surprisingly delicate film. —AF

Read IndieWire’s Review of “Passages”: “A signature new drama from a director whose best work (‘Keep the Lights On,’ ‘Love Is Strange’) is at once both generously tender in its brutality and unsparingly brutal in its tenderness, the raw and resonant ‘Passages’ is the kind of fuck around and find out love triangle that rings true because we aspire to its sexier moments but see ourselves in its most selfish ones.” —David Ehrlich 

“Mutt” (dir. Vuk Lungulov-Klotz)

Read IndieWire’s Review of “Mutt”: Though queer and trans visibility does have its limits, there’s no denying that trans men and transmasculine people have traditionally been sidelined in the fight for trans representation. Through no fault of queer and trans storytellers, mainstream media and the culture at large only had so much space for trans stories it found understandable and digestible. Now, coming up on almost ten years after what Time Magazine dubbed “The Transgender Tipping Point,” film and television is finally starting to tell trans stories that trans viewers and queer community can recognize as their own. Though it started long ago, it’s getting a healthy boost from this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Debuting in U.S. Dramatic Competition, “Mutt” follows a day in the life of Feña (Lío Mehiel), a young trans guy living in New York City. Over one sweltering and sometimes rainy day, Feña navigates the in between stages of transition, adulthood, and relationships, all while just trying to get through the day. Anchored by a charismatic performance from newcomer Mehiel, “Mutt” keeps a tight focus on its dynamic protagonist, who graciously rolls with the punches of being broke and heartbroken in the city that never sleeps. With three people from Feña’s past pulling him in different directions, “Mutt” sometimes meanders off course, but it manages to string together some beautiful moments in between. —JD

“Bottoms” (dir. Emma Seligman)

How it’s queer: In Emma Seligman’s deliciously funny and spectacularly named “Bottoms,” Ayo Edebiri and Rachel Sennott lead as dirt-bag teenagers Josie and PJ: best friends and lesbians who start an afterschool fight club in order to get closer to the hot cheerleaders. 

Why it’s exceptional: A movie that no-so-jokingly gives voice to loser lesbians, this tale of uncool underdogs combines camp with extreme slapstick sensibilities for an instant cult classic that appeals to LGBTQ audiences and any comedy lover worth their salt. 

Read IndieWire’s Review of “Bottoms”: Unlike “Shiva Baby,” which used tight shots and quick edits to create tension, Seligman squeezes every ounce of awkward humor from the characters in “Bottoms” by letting the camera linger in order until you are just about to start cringing. Yet, what is most impressive is Seligman’s skills at building and executing action scenes. This is a movie about a fight club, after all, so fists are often up. There is one particularly bloody, big-scale fight that has clearer and more intricate choreography than most action scenes in big blockbuster movies of the past year.

At the bottom of the film’s knotted plot and raunchy jokes, however, lies a rather poignant story about female friendship and empowerment. Though it starts as a genuine desire to protect themselves from a rival school that is literally kidnapping and beating up students (free of consequence, one might add), the girls get more out of the club than just good fighting skills. —Rafael Motamayor 

“Rotting in the Sun” (dir. Sebastián Silva)

How it’s queer: Sex, drugs, suicide, and the collapse of creative ambition in the gig economy — and, really, what’s gayer than that? Filmmaker Sebastián Silva plays a version of himself as an artist running out of ideas and money in Mexico City until he meets content creator Jordan Firstman on a gay nude beach, and suddenly a new soul-eroding career opportunity awaits.  

What makes it exceptional: Firstman interrogates his own image as a social media bon vivant in this raunchy, sexually explicit lambasting of gay male life whose target audience will both revile and revere this film. Firstman has so much joie de vivre that it’s difficult to anticipate what kind of chemistry he’d have with the misanthropic, death-wishing Sebastián, who eventually disappears in a wild second-act twist that flips the movie on its back. Scenes in which Sebastián or Jordan scroll through their own internet content with empty eyes are a pungent reminder of the, at times, inherent vapidity of gay life, the thirst for someone else’s approval or body to quell what’s missing inside us. Basically, any queer person knows that being queer is often about feeling bad, and Silva isn’t afraid to drive that nail in when it’s not all a trip to the beach. —RL 

“Cassandro” (dir. Roger Ross Williams)

How it’s queer: Gael García Bernal stars as the gay luchador from the ’80s, Saúl Armendáriz — aka the titular “Cassandro” — in Roger Ross Williams’ biopic for Amazon Prime Video. 

Why it’s exceptional: Shedding fresh light on a real queer history figure, this smile-inducing consideration of manliness and showmanship. —AF

Read IndieWire’s Review of “Cassandro”: At once hypermasculine and flamboyant, Mexican lucha libre has for long been a popular form of entertainment for the masses. An escape from the burdens of poverty and real violence, the spectacle features brightly clad heroes known as técnicos who personify the forces of good. Their adversaries, the rudos, play easily recognizable bad guys one can also cheer for. Their duels inside the ring display as much artistry as they do physical prowess.

In this larger-than-life performance of testosterone-fueled fracas, of bodies flying through the air, choreographed uppercuts, and arranged victories; the emergence of gay wrestler Saúl Armendáriz (stage name: Cassandro) in the 1980s, came as a shockwave against homophobia. Deceptively delicate in appearance, reclaiming stereotypes with colorful defiance, but just as much a brawler with ample technique as the burliest of them. —Carlos Aguilar

“Sex Education” (Season 4, Netflix)

How it’s queer: Netflix’s second-most beloved comedy about adolescence and puberty (“Big Mouth” has a bigger audience and you know it!), “Sex Education” continued to champion a number of queer main characters — as well as introduce a gaggle of gender-expansive popular kids at Otis (Asa Butterfield) and Eric (Ncuti Gatwas)’s new school featured in the series’ final season. 

Why it’s exceptional: Joyous and complex, Laurie Nunn’s British teen sex comedy was informative the whole way through, with an attention to detail that made its queer storylines a proper masterclass in inclusive representation through education. —AF

Read IndieWire’s Review of “Sex Education” Season 4: The beauty of “Sex Education’s” ending is that you can answer these questions anyway you want. You can always imagine Otis as a counselor for confused teens or Maeve as a published author… or you can remember that’s who they were in high school, taking comfort in knowing they’re happy and on a path to future, unknowable happiness. Nunn’s series has always been about discovery: kids discovering the world around them whilst discovering their own emerging identities. Driven by open-mindedness and encouragement, the four seasons take plenty of unexpected pivots (Otis and Ruby’s lengthy affair among the shockers) while staying as honest as a fictional narrative can to their core selves. —BT

“Strange Way of Life” (dir. Pedro Almodóvar)

How it’s queer: Ethan Hawke and Pedro Pascal play estranged cowboys given a second chance at love in this florid Western short film directed by Pedro Almodóvar and funded by YSL. 

What makes it exceptional: Almodóvar offers his cowboys the opportunity that Jack Twist and Ennis del Mar of “Brokeback Mountain” never had — and to enjoy the opportunity they never got to give the filmmaker in return. (Almodóvar was originally attached to direct the film that went to Ang Lee.) Here, a seemingly carefree rancher played by a smiling Pedro Pascal makes a beeline for the cold-blooded local sheriff the moment he arrives in Bitter Creek (a gruff and grumbly Ethan Hawke). The two men initially seem like a mismatched pair, but it’s only a few short minutes before they’re slurping down hot soup and tearing off each other’s chaps. Almodóvar leaves most of the sex to our imaginations — what happens in the bedroom above the sheriff’s office stays in the bedroom above the sheriff’s office — but Hawke and Pascal still manage to squeeze more heat and tenderness into a single fade-to-black than “The Power of the Dog” allowed for in its entirety. —David Ehrlich 

“Dicks: The Musical” (dir. Larry Charles)

How it’s queer: Writers/stars Aaron Jackson and Josh Sharp lead as two “straight” [wink] assholes living it up in a version of Manhattan that definitely isn’t actually constructed in Burbank, California, in this zesty, gay “Parent Trap” situation turned sexually explicit musical. 

Why it’s exceptional: Shabbily crafted for maximum charm, this feature film from Larry Charles delivers killer performances from queer icons Nathan Lane and Megan Mullally — but swings for the fences with an outrageous finale that provokes even in a controversial year. 

Read IndieWire’s Review of “Dicks: The Musical”: There are two kinds of people in this world: Those who might want to see a ridiculously irreverent musical riff on “The Parent Trap” in which the estranged identical twins aren’t cute tweenage children but rather grown-ass men who sing about sacks of cum and clearly want to have sex with each other… and those who might not. I have fantastic news for the first group. 

Directed by Larry Charles (“Borat”), funded by the petty cash that A24 didn’t have to spend on interns during the pandemic, based on Aaron Jackson and Josh Sharp’s off-Broadway show “Fucking Identical Twins,” and starring that same duo as overtly gay parodies of straight white men who still find something to complain about, “Dicks: The Musical” is — in all likelihood — the best movie I’ve ever seen in which Megan Mullally plays a 94-year-old shut-in who carries her vagina in a handbag (and has done so ever since it detached from her body like the creature in “The Thing” and had to be stunned into submission with a whack from her son’s flip-flop). —DE

“Fellow Travelers” (Season 1, Showtime)

How it’s queer: This eight-part adaptation of Thomas Mallon’s popular 2007 novel stars Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey as secret gay lovers in a political thriller who clandestinely meet during the peak of McCarthyism. 

Why it’s exceptional: Creator and writer Ron Nyswaner’s melodrama is passionate and sincere — delivering exactly what’s required from a competitive chemistry-driven vehicle in a TV and cinematic season full of them. 

Read IndieWire’s Review of “Fellow Travelers”: Nyswaner is delicate and precise in depicting Hawk and Tim’s romantic evolution. Sex scenes that began as blunt, intense encounters develop into tender, telling moments before turning back again and advancing with added nuance. “Fellow Travelers” is sure to enrage the silly, conservative-minded crowd advocating for sexless cinema, but it serves as a powerful example of how revealing such scenes can be, beyond the obvious. Hawk and Tim can only disclose their most naked wants and needs while behind closed doors, and without these vivid depictions of their sex life, audiences would be missing out on the urgent, overpowering nature of their desire — a desire that motivates choices beyond their relationship status, as the historical drama surrounding their ardor so obviously denotes. —BT

“Scott Pilgrim Takes Off” (Season 1, Netflix)

How it’s queer: The universe of Scott Pilgrim as imagined by Bryan Lee O’Malley has been queer since its graphic novel origins, but this new Netflix animated adaptation better fleshes out those relationships for the streaming screen — with particular attention given to Ramona and Roxy, as well as Wallace’s romantic pursuits. 

Why it’s exceptional: We always love to see queer texts get even more queer, but “Takes Off” has a particular finesse with rich LGBTQ representation making the fantastical and emotionally nuanced world feel more real. —AF

Read IndieWire’s Review of “Scott Pilgrim Takes Off”: After endless reboots, sequels, and revivals, fans of big movies and TV shows aren’t clamoring for more the way they once were. But with “Scott Pilgrim Takes Off,” Netflix and creators Bryan Lee O’Malley and BenDavid Grabinski show that a franchise reset doesn’t mean the death of creativity or more of the same; it can be a fresh opportunity for a beloved property like “Scott Pilgrim” to completely revamp itself and find a brand new audience — while still satisfying old fans.

With one general spoiler for the entire series ahead, “Scott Pilgrim Takes Off” is not the story of O’Malley’s six graphic novels, which wrapped up in the same year as Edgar Wright‘s big-screen adaptation “Scott Pilgrim vs. the World” — and it’s not that movie either. The animated series is a secret third thing, a total reimagining of how Scott Pilgrim (Michael Cera) meets the girl of (or from) his dreams (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) and what happens when he tries to fight her seven evil exes. This time, Scott is presumably killed in the very first fight with Matthew Patel (Satya Bhabha), his friends and Ramona then faced with life in a Scott Pilgrim-less world. —PK

“Saltburn” (dir. Emerald Fennell)

Read IndieWire’s Review of “Saltburn”: A daft but undeniably amusing stick in the eye that dares to imagine what Pier Paolo Pasolini’s “Teorema” might have been like as a piece of Abercrombie & Fitch spon-con from 2003 (a magical time when shirtless hunks stood outside of history’s most pungent mall stores like bouncers to a world of elite white belonging), Emerald Fennell’s “Saltburn” is a movie sustained by the friction between identity and reinvention, and therefore a fitting second feature by a filmmaker whose Oscar-winning debut made it hard to tell if she was an underachieving dramatist or an overachieving provocateur. 

If nothing else, the even more self-assured “Saltburn” puts that question to bed for the time being. Another smirking and vaguely satirical psycho-thriller that wants to have its cake, eat it too, and then soil the plate for good measure, Fennell’s immaculately crafted follow-up to “Promising Young Woman” might have a lot more fun pushing your buttons if it had any clue how to get under your skin. It’s exciting when someone makes a movie bursting with raw talent and half-cocked ideas — much less so when they make two of them in a row. —DE

“Eileen” (dir. William Oldroyd)

Read IndieWire’s Review of “Eileen”: In the first scene of “Eileen,” the protagonist stakes out in her car on a dreary winter lakefront lovers’ lane in the Boston outskirts. As another couple makes out in a backseat of the next car, Eileen watches, glowering lustily, and grabs a handful of muddy snow, shoves it down her pants, and masturbates.

The rest of “Lady Macbeth” director William Oldroyd’s second feature never quite matches the giddy perversity of that image, but no matter, because this stylish 1960s-set noir adapted from Ottessa Moshfegh’s mean and pungent novel of the same name is a dark treat throughout. Thomasin McKenzie, playing the title character, and Anne Hathaway, playing the alluring blonde-headed woman that seemingly drops from the sky and into her life, give career-best performances in an oddly touching queer almost-romance that feels like a cross between “Carol” and Hitchcock (Moshfegh herself has named his film “Rebecca,” which shares a name with Hathaway’s character here, as a touchstone). But it’s also entirely its own weird, beautiful thing, even if it doesn’t quite rub audiences as deeply in the muck of Eileen’s miserable existence as the novel did. —RL

“All of Us Strangers” (dir. Andrew Haigh)

How it’s queer: Paul Mescal and Andrew Scott play flirty neighbors in a huge empty apartment building outside of London, whose love story takes them in the gay night club scene in part, in writer/director Andrew Haigh’s emotional ghost story also starring Claire Foy and Jamie Bell.

Why it’s exceptional: Although its divisive with some queer audiences, this tragic adaptation of Taichi Yamada’s “Strangers” delivers a searingly memorable coming out scene from Scott and a truly heartfelt performance from Foy as his baffled mother — separated in experience and time. —AF

Read IndieWire’s Review of “All of Us Strangers”: At the same time, “All of Us Strangers” is as much of a lament for the present as it is for the past, and while Adam assures his mom and dad that “Everything’s different now,” Harry — despite his comparatively outgoing persona — offers a heartsick reminder of how deep certain fissures can cut across a family. People are products of their time, and yet the fear of vulnerability is universal. Cosmic. Interstellar. And so Haigh, in rather overt terms, slowly begins to recontextualize Adam’s sexuality as more of a conduit for his despondency than a root cause, leveraging a personal story about the consequences of keeping pain out into a primordial one about the catharsis of letting it in (a dynamic reflected by Haigh’s decision to have Adam’s parents live in his actual childhood home). Adam doesn’t have to open the door himself, he just has to lower the latch. —DE