Queer Horror: The Good, Bad and Ugly - While there’s definitely something for everyone in the realm of horror–queer or not–sometimes it’s easy to figure out why a film has mass appeal…or why a film is despised.

Celebrate Pride Month with QF's unique list of queer horror gems! Go beyond the usual classics and discover underappreciated, overlooked films in the queer horror canon.

Taking cues from early holiday horror classics, combined with the fun style of old teen detective shows, Mackay presents a high-octane, stylish slasher…

A pinnacle of vampiric homoeroticism for thirty years, the cinematic adaptation of Anne Rice’s first novel in her Vampire Chronicles continues to capture the imaginations of queer audiences.

Officially free and ready to make anyone that lays eyes on it transgender. Director Vera Drew’s 2024 version of the maniacal clown, the Bat, and the city of Gotham is multi-layered, multi-textured, and a full homage.

Rose Glass’ sophomore feature Love Lies Bleeding continues the weird sapphic energy from her previous film Saint Maud in spectacular fashion.

Killer Condom, written and illustrated by Ralf König, certainly falls in the satirical, angrier camp of gay comics. Following the exploits of a closeted detective as he attempts to solve the mystery of a seemingly sentient condom terrorizing a popular love hotel…

Queer Fear blogger Red Broadwell interviews Mackay about her third film T-Blockers, trans genre cinema, and Mackay’s very packed schedule over the last few years.

There are three things certain in life: death, taxes, and absolutely devastating friend group drama that changes you as a person. Bodies Bodies Bodies dares to ask: how toxic can a messy queer friend group get?

Lisa Frankenstein, from bisexual director Zelda Williams and queer-friendly screenwriter Diablo Cody, pack the story with characters that make you look sideways at your neighbor and wonder what dark secrets they’re hiding.

Safe, sane, and consensual: these are the last words anyone would possibly use to describe Eric LaRocca’s novella Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke. However, the reduction to just its (rightfully) infamous final act does a disservice to the narrative of lesbian isolation in the early Internet era.