Your friend sets you up on a blind date. So you head over to your local, non-profit, organic, trans-friendly laundromat and pick up a black shirt for the occasion. You meet the mystery man at a unpretentiously chic New York bar only to find out: he’s a Republican! What do you say?

“I hope you enjoy rolling around piles of money soaked in the blood of your fellow queers,” naturally.

That funny scene is just one gem in It Gets Betterish, a new dark comedy series from Upright Citizens Brigade performers Brent Sullivan and Eliot Glazer. Sullivan is a stand-up comedian who has performed on Comedy Central’s Live at Gotham and toured his one-man show, “Fag Life: A Conversation with Fred Phelps,” with the UCB Tour Company. Glazer is an editor at New York‘s Vulture (my favorite blog) and has written for Urlesque, BuzzFeed, among other publications.

The rainbow rains on Brent and Eliot.

The series satirizes both the enlightened progressivism of gay men and their straight allies, along with our increasingly mainstream gay politics and culture. It Gets Betterish is one of the smarter gay web series out right now.

The nine-episode series will be released in the coming weeks. “You can look forward to an episode about a twinky club kid, getting an AIDS test, and a heterosexual drag queen,” said the duo, who are both gay.

The title of show is its best pitch. In the first episode, Brent and Eliot try desperately to convince their friends and family that, despite their homosexuality, they do not like Lady Gaga. The megastar has fought hard to take away the gay queen crown from the likes of Cher and Madonna, and we should be grateful, the thinking goes. This is the Lady Gaga who just announced a high-profile anti-bullying initiative, inspired in part by Dan Savage’s It Gets Better Project, which transformed the darkest moments of homophobia into a broad, positive campaign of self-fulfillment (see the Google ad below). Thirty years ago gays were far on the margins; Savage was a lefty queer. But now we are the minority du jour, on the front lines of the erstwhile culture wars with a broad base of support. Like wealthy Republicans. How do you be gay when seemingly everyone’s on your side?

The series is only the most recent web show to tackle the question of what it means to be gay today. From Louie-esque New York indies Two Jasperjohns, Jack in a Box and duder, to broad comedies like Husbands and Disappointing Gay Best Friend, some web series creators are trying to fill in the blanks left by the hits Modern Family and Glee. (The reality shows, well, that’s another story).

Below, I talk to Sullivan and Glazer about the state of gay culture, what inspires them and whether or not they really dislike the Lady.

TELEVISUAL: How did this series come together?

We wanted to show the other side of the gay community, the side that is, as we put it, two weirdos drowning in a sea of fabulousness.  There are a ton of gay guys who aren’t the slightest bit fierce.  I think it’s important to remember that you don’t have to be a porn star or wear body glitter to feel accepted within the community.

Eliot angers Gaga fans.

TV: What TV series, films or other cultural products inspired you?

You know, the usual: Modern Marvels, The Dog Whisperer, anything with Bob Vila.  We love Louie on FX, because it presents fatherhood in a completely different light than any other show on television.  That’s how we wanted to present our lives as gay dudes, with irreverence and humor.

TV: How would you describe your humor?

The best?  The tone of IGB could be described as a little dark and honest.

TV: What are your thoughts on the state of the gay community today? Are we better or worse off than we were five, ten or twenty years ago?

There’s no question we’re better off.  Gay rights is probably the fastest moving ‘rights movement’ in history.  Full marriage equality and protections in the workplace are inevitable.  But even if we accomplish full equality, we risk being pigeon-holed unless we start depicting ourselves in a more realistic, less cliched light.

TV: Do you really hate Gaga and love Enya?

Lady Gaga is honestly just fine.  Eliot likes her more than I do.  But “Poker Face” is on my iPod.  So is “Orinoco Flow” by Enya.  And “I Just Can’t Wait to be King” from the Lion King Soundtrack.  And a song from a LensCrafters commercial that I downloaded from Napster in 2002.  So, there, I don’t hate her, but she didn’t change my life.  With that said, her activism is undeniably awesome.

Posted at Tubefilter!

If The Burg is for Lovers, it’s also, according to East Willy B, for Latinos.

The new comedy series about a diverse community in Bushwick (or East Williamsburg) hopes to capitalize on both the popularity of Brooklyn among web series and the growing Latino market online.

Premiering last week  at a packed screening at Anthology Film Archives, sponsored by Licor 43, East WillyB centers on Willy Reyes, Jr., the self-proclaimed Nuyorican “King of Bushwick.” Willy owns a bar catering to Latinos in a community on the verge of gentrification. His ex-girlfriend and business partner wants him to upgrade the bar to cater to the coming influx of hipsters, but Willy would rather not.

The series humorously explores the complexities of gentrification: from the people within the community who accept the trend to the real estate agents who re-brand neighborhoods, all while giving audiences a big cast of crazy characters.

Creator/Producers Yamin Segal and Julia Grob

Creators Julia Grob, an actress, producer and Brown University graduate, and Yamin Segal, a filmmaker and NYU alum, created the series to target a “new generation” of Latinos: English-speaking, educated and raised in multicultural communities.

“It was important for us to come out as the trends were emerging,” Grob said, adding that the bulk of the Latino population in the US is young and the Spanish-language programming of Univision is seen as for the older generation.

The two producers spent time in LA pitching the show to networks but were told they were too “early.” Coming out with the show independently allowed them to get ahead of the trend.

As of now the web series is only releasing six episodes along with some viral content, with a plan for over two dozen episodes once a sponsor comes on.

East WillyB has a professional look and serious actors, may of whom have appeared in prominent indie films and TV shows from Dexter to Royal Pains, but the series was made without sponsorship. Licor 43, a popular European brand looking to move into the US market, approached them after the series was shot, a testament to the producers own marketing efforts, which have landed them coverage on MTV Tr3s and The L Mag, among other publications (UPDATE: New York Daily News).

“It really comes back to knowing your niche,” said Segal on how the series focused on its target population of young Latinos of all nationalities.

“The exciting thing about sponsorship as well is a lot of brands are trying to reach this population that we’re trying to reach,” Grob said, adding that Licor 43 is excited about the series and the creators are in conversations with a number of brands to sponsor the rest of the show.

East WillyB takes some serious shots at gentrification. Between the episodes, there are videos profiling community organizers working toward social justice and spoofs on real estate marketing. But at the end of the day, both Grob and Segal didn’t want to preach.

“This is about having fun as well,” Segal said. “It’s out there so people can have a good time and laugh.”

Thanks to Racialicious for reposting!

In Brooklyn one night in May I was treated to my very first performance from Monstah Black, an artist who defies categorization, but whose show I would characterize as part-rock concert, part-live art theatre, with a black queer bent. Despite my awe I managed to divert my eyes long enough to dwell on the audience, mostly avant-hip black Brooklyners, but with two notable exceptions: indie filmmaker and artist Hanifah Walidah and, looking a touch out of place, internationally renowned artist Chuck Close.

I started thinking that something rather trendy was going on. Monstah Black seemed to be just one of a several black artists, performers and personalities working today trafficking in what he calls “genderfuckery.” (Though maybe I was just flush from an unusually art-glamorous day at internationally renowned artist David Salle‘s salon with such art world luminaries as Dana Schutz, Amy Sillman and Eva Respini in attendance!).

Has black queer (and, in many cases, black androgyny) come back in style?

Monstah Black

Well, first, there are probably three immediate responses to that question, depending on who’s reading this: 1) What do you mean by “back,” it never left!, 2) What do you mean by “back,” it’s never in!, 3) What do you mean by “black androgyny” or “queerness”?

I won’t respond to 2) because the charge lacks merit. I’ll respond to 1) in a bit. Identifying the starting/stopping points of cultural trends is futile. My question is more of a provocation. It seems to me, for those who are aware, it has become easier than ever to access images of black artists playing with the Holy Trinity of cultural studies: race, gender and sexuality, my rather expansive definition for “androgyny.” (A better word might be “queer.” Ah, language.)

WHO IS HOT TODAY**

Andre J

The list is small but mighty. We have Kalup Linzy, pictured above with James Franco, who has over the past several years become the toast of the art and fashion worlds, headlining lush events, booking major museum shows, getting major fellowships, collaborating with major designers and, well, James Franco. Monstah Black appears to have amassed a loyal following in New York and rising visibility by the press. We should all remember personality Andre J, who a few years ago made the cover of Paris Vogue and continues to produce. Though decidedly less queer, out artist Kehinde Wiley had made a name for himself deconstructing masculinity…and selling sneakers. Andre Leon Talley‘s celebrity is blossoming, becoming an obsession of the gossipy press, most notably Gawker; his America’s Next Top Model colleague, Miss J, isn’t doing too bad either.

Along with Kalup Linzy, a number of these personalities maintain a strong presence online. Much has been written on B. Scott, who is remaking celebrity online and has been working hard by blogging, hosting his own radio show, vlogging on YouTube, and appearing on various television shows. My students keyed me into KingsleyBitch, the 19-year old who has amassed over 100,000 subscribers on YouTube in less than a year by kvetching, vlog-style whenever he feels like it. It’s the kid of transgression endemic to YouTube, the kind that Mr. Pregnant, who is a kind of queer figure, takes to the next level. New York-based performer Britney Houston moved from online to offline, making a name for herself doing music video remakes on YouTube then making music and performing live in NYC, much like Monstah Black and Kalup Linzy have, but with more pop. Online, black gay narratives are another small but mighty bunch, including Christopher Street, Drama Queenz, Lovers and Friends, Anacostia and Buppies.*

(UPDATE: Reader suggestions (of people I missed): Jonte’; Jean Paul Paula)

WE HAVE BEEN HERE BEFORE

Peter Sewally

We have been here before. Some would say we have never left, and they might be right. (Warning: really sketchy and incomplete history to follow).

But Ru is still here! The diva’s show, RuPaul’s Drag Race, is giving Logo is best ratings ever and has given the star, who turns 50 this year, a second (or third or fourth) revival.

So the pivotal question is “why now?” If there’s something special about this moment, there has to be a reason to explain it all.

It’s become a pat answer, but certainly the rise of new media — I know, I’m sorry for bringing it up! — has contributed to the heightened visibility of these narratives, at least for those, like myself, who are looking. The proliferation of blogs, vlogs, Facebooks, Twitters, websites, film festivals, cable channels, etc. has given performers an increasing number of venues for publicity and distribution.

Culturally speaking, I think it’s certainly possible the desire to consume in niches, a process beginning in earnest in the 1990s, has led people to marginal corners of cultural production, the same impulse driving TV watching to cable.

At the same time, I think a small group of people are now becoming dissatisfied with the relatively cookie-cutter predominately white gay representations we see on television and film (and even on television, we are somewhat far away from the mid-2000s of Noah’s Arc, Will & Grace, The L Word, and Queer as Folk). Black queer might just be fresh, especially in the the NY-LA epicenters.

WHAT DOES BLACK QUEERNESS LOOK LIKE TODAY

Is there anything that differentiates black queer performances today from those of yesteryear? I’m not an expert. However there are a few interesting cultural threads I see running through the examples I’ve been noticing.

I’d have to do more reading on this, but it seems there is a consistent pull (and always has been) among minority-produced media between resistance and integration. The desire to integrate oneself into mainstream society and the need to push against it. This perhaps most clear in Paris is Burning, focusing as it does on how performers articulate desire for fame, fortune and the American dream while still residing on its outskirts.

Today, this means black queerness can sometimes conjure the neoliberal (individualism, self-determination, self-help) and the spiritual alongside the anarchic and the transgressive. It can be as soft as it is sharp; it goes down easy, at times, and fights its way down at other times. To be popular is to compromise, to be marketable and trendy is to integrate oneself into easily understandable ideas.

Yet with markets and niches, someone can sustain their art and still hold true to some artistic ideals. It depends on one’s aspirations and industry. Artists like Linzy and Wiley have a relative degree of autonomy. Burgeoning celebrities like B. Scott have more constraints.

It takes more than one to map out a cultural moment. I’d love to here your thoughts on a) any big names working right now that I missed (because I know I missed a whole lot), b) any perspective on what it means to be black and queer today, c) any thoughts on the importance/limitations on being “hip,” d) anything else. In the meantime, here’s Kalup Linzy hanging with James Franco!

*That all these performers are men is a discussion that needs to be had.

**It’s important to note that many of these artists may not identify as “queer” or even “gay”. The point of this article is not to call anyone’s sexuality — as in sex — but rather cultural performance. So someone like Eddie Izzard, who is straight, can be read as queer, same goes for someone like Dennis Rodman or John Leguizamo, you get the idea.

Also filed under: “Things that make me feel old at the age of 25.” How quickly can one create a series riffing off a new HBO show? In a few weeks, apparently.

Smoke DZA, a rapper I’ve never heard of — excuse! This is a film and TV blog! I don’t do music — has crafted a web series called How to Make It in Harlem. Judging from the trailer, which I found thanks to The Rah Rah, it’s basing its concept heavily on HBO’s How to Make It in America. There’s a bit of inevitability to an independent artist taking HBO’s faux-grit and filming in an actually gritty part of town, Harlem (sort of; let’s be real, Neil Patrick Harris lives there).

The trailer’s a pretty faithful remix of the HBO show’s opening credits; same large white fonts, snapshot photo technique. Take a look:

The web’s always been about remaking and reimagining mainstream texts, and, especially as computers get faster and software gets cheaper and more accessible, the rate of turnaround gets faster. But still, an entire web series? My guess is the idea had been percolating and developing/in production for awhile and they reacted to the changing mediascape.

Some more info from Rah Rah:

With Samuel Rogers behind the shutter showing off Harlem and playing on the photo montage style of HBO’s ‘How To Make It In America’ I would say mission accomplished. Visually Inklined, who is also behind Hip Hop Confessions, is behind this video.

One of many still photos of New York from the opening credits. Originally published at Splice Today; Thanks to Racialicious for reposting this.

Dude comedies have become a staple of the American media diet, though they probably always have been in some form or another. Slacker dudes are particularly popular—the successes of Judd Apatow and Seth MacFarlane’s most popular fare are evidence enough.

HBO, in its perpetual effort to not be television, has taken this formula and turned it on its head. First with Entourage, a series about making it and staying on top, and now with How to Make It in America, about what happens before you’ve made it. Our two heroes, Ben (Bryan Greenberg) and Cam (Victor Rasuk) are too guys who are tired of doing nothing, and propose to start a line of designer jeans.

I suspect Ben and Cam will eventually get rich. The series can’t sustain itself on poverty and hardship (it’s too earnest); still, there’s something intriguing about How to Make It in America‘s emphasis on the less glamorous, or occasionally glamorous New York—as opposed to Sex and the City and its copycats’ perpetually glamorous city, or Entourage‘s Los Angeles. Sure, there are hot girls and gallery openings, even a cameo from John Varvatos, but the tone of the show is a little dour, like New York after The Fall. It’s certainly about the increasingly distant American dream and the ridiculous lengths people go through to achieve it. Yet it’s also, I suspect, about how the dream is almost just a handshake and a cocktail away.

A graffiti’ed American flag in the opening credits is particularly symbolic

More than anything, How to Make It is about the dream of post-boom New York City (perhaps also post-Boom America, but it’s really NYC-focused). This became very clear in episode two when Ben describes the philosophy behind his denim line to his former fashion professor. He wants to get back to the grit and authenticity of old NYC. “It’s inspired by 1970s New York, so you’ve got the birth of hip hop and the birth of punk rock … just the spirit of the 70s,” Ben says. “Were you even alive in the 70s? This place was a dump. Central Park was a war zone. Times Square was full of hookers,” the prof retorts. Ben: “What’s not to love, right?”

The “real” New York runs through How to Make It, especially in its use of still photographs over various parts of the city, both in its intro and between scenes. Unfortunately, these photos give the show almost all its verve—so far, it’s otherwise uninteresting. The photographs give us a sense of place, a grittier, dirtier, darker New York City, like in Scorsese’s Taxi Driver or After Hours.

How to Make It in America seems to be saying: it’s great to be rich and successful in New York, so long as everyone else is suffering. It’s a bit strange, really. The New York of the 60s, 70s and early 80s, is fantasized and longed for, with its “realness,” cheap real estate, empty storefronts and dirty streets. In this fantasy, a poorer New York is a playground. Gone from the discussion are rampant crime and unemployment. This New York is a great place to live, if you’re one of the few people to have “made” it. You can buy an enormous apartment; bolt downtown and take in some underground art, stopping by Warhol’s Factory, Oldenberg’s Store, Haring’s Shop; see Madonna sing; and jet back to your loft before you get robbed.

But the truth is, if this magical New York reappears, it’ll probably be at the expense of our heroes Ben and Cam. Independent luxury brands do not fare well in tough times, ceding ground to more established labels. Recently, Phi and Maria Pinto, a Michelle Obama favorite, have both shuttered. Zac Posen apparently isn’t doing too well. Even celebrity fashion lines have suffered. There are always successes, of course, but I doubt any investor would give much money to our former slacker dudes in this economy.

The appeal of the old New York, especially to many unemployed men who now populate the rolls, is understandable. Who wouldn’t want to see their smug high school colleague turned hedge fund manager down and out and living in New Jersey? But the truth is, if he’s forced out of Manhattan, you’re living on Staten Island with mom and dad, and there isn’t anything less glamorous than that.

How To Make It in America is off to a rough start, lacking the tight plotting of HBO’s dramas or sharp dialogue of Entourage and Sex and the City. I suspect the show will improve as Ben and Cam succeed, even if their success is utterly—and disappointingly—a fantasy.

Taking a break from film/TV/web series today to talk about an issue dear to my heart: the urban coffee shop. Specifically, the dying Manhattan coffee shop (and how Philadelphia is better).

I originally wrote this for Splice Today, but decided to re-post here after hearing from a friend, Madison Moore, that Esperanto, a 24-hour shop in the West Village/NYU-area had closed. Esperanto was, terrible service aside, a wonderful anomaly in Manhattan coffee shops: you could stay for hours, anytime, get a meal, free wi-fi and dessert all in a very central location. These stores are a dying breed.

Thanks to Racialicious for reposting this!

ORIGINAL: In my view, a city is defined by its coffee shops. As Madison Moore explored last week, coffee shops are meeting places to ogle and be seen, work and eavesdrop. They make the city less lonely.

New York has always, in my mind, been associated with coffee shops. Growing up in Jersey, I would go to the city with friends and go out on the town, but also coffee shop around. On break from college in Michigan, I’d do the same. It’s not just me. A generation of people has grown up with television shows and films romanticizing this experience—for me Woody Allen films, Felicity, Sex and the City and even Friends all played a part in creating this New York imagery.

No more. New York coffee culture is dying, especially in Manhattan. I used to be able to venture down to the Village, East or West, and find a café to sit and do work. I had numerous options. But on a recent trip to the city, I found myself hobbled by obstacle after obstacle. Coffee shops serving food and free wi-fi stopped offering one or the other, wi-fi networks in general were either not working or closed down, and because of the relatively small number of cafés, any decent place was too crowded to find a seat.

So what, right? New York is hard; deal with it, one might say.

Sure, but my troubles reflect some fundamental problems with the way the city has been run over the past couple of decades, showing us how something has been lost to the city’s rise to riches—a public sphere, perhaps, to abbreviate and simplify philosopher Jürgen Habermas.

Let me first describe the perfect coffee shop: 1) good coffee, 2) free wireless, 3) outlets for computers and other electrical devices, 4) plenty of seating, and 5) diverse food options (warm and savory to cold and sweet). Everything else is gravy: good music, abundant light and soothing decor are all optional.

New York coffee culture has definitely cramped down on what I consider most valuable, next to the coffee itself: free wi-fi. Stories abound about business owners cutting back on the apparent luxury, much to the ire of its customers, especially students. I don’t blame them, really. The truth is wi-fi makes customers take up space without buying anything. Who wants that?

It isn’t business owners’ fault. New York’s refusal to regulate the rise in real estate prices has made it economically unsustainable to own and operate a successful coffee shop. The sacrifice of Manhattan real estate to developers and corporations at the expense of the middle class (in particular, those tied to the education systems like teachers, professors, and, indeed, students) reached a crescendo with the sale of Stuyvesant Town, an enormous lot of downtown real estate, for $5 billion in 2006, a deal which has now gone horribly awry, marking, in many ways, the climax of gentrification in Manhattan.

But despite the housing downtown, the consequences have already been felt. Coffee shops are one such casualty. Rents are simply too high to allow people to sit and relax. Instead, New York is now restaurant-focused. People sit down, eat, pay and go. The perfect consumer experience. It’s like running a bank. People give you money and get the hell out. None of that sitting around, talking, thinking and learning mess.

Despite the financial difficulties, there are models for success, showing shop owners that it isn’t impossible to make money in Manhattan. Think Coffee, originally from the NYU area, seems to have a new branch every year. The fair trade/organic café has a recipe for success: be everything to all people. They offer free wireless, dessert and entrees, lots of seating (at the flagship), wine and cheese, live entertainment and plenty of outlets for computers. By offering high-margin items like food and wine, they can accommodate those people who only want a coffee and a place to sit and write.

Think Coffee is in the minority, leaving New York with little to brag about. Meanwhile, other cities are one-upping the great cultural metropolis. In Philadelphia, the economics of opening a business has led to a flowering of cafés. Within Center City, Philadelphia’s downtown, I’ve counted at least two dozen coffee shops with free wireless; some have food (one sells crepes), great dessert (another focuses on cheesecakes), or offer everything under one roof (Chapterhouse takes the prize). All of this within an area roughly the size of the East and West Village, where I can count no more than ten similar offerings.

How did Philly one-up New York? The main reason is gentrification happened slowly and with less force in Philly. Large buildings downtown (brownstones mostly) were still selling for way under $1 million as recently as eight-10 years ago. Downtown has only recently become chic. This means young people and couples, looking for an affordable urban experience, have flooded the area, snapping up adorable, classic homes for as little as $300,000—where comparable properties, in size, quality and location, would fetch well over $1 million in New York.

How can New York change course? I’m not sure. Certainly maintaining rent control, which Mayor Michael Bloomberg has sort of done, helps. But New York will not be able to say no to pricey development—and such developments (luxury buildings, etc.) are at a standstill anyway. Guaranteeing “affordable housing” in these buildings has done little, especially since “affordable” in New York is obviously a joke. In truth, broader generational changes—boomers selling their apartments and moving out—and economic shifts—the scaling down of the banking sector—will need to happen in order to make Manhattan comfortable for small businesses again. Something is always lost and something gained in these situations. In truth, New York will likely have to get “worse” in some ways in order to get “better” in others. It all depends on what you value most.