Cabaret Consensual and Issues of Duality in the Quest for Queer Visibility (Interview/ Profile)


An assault survivor and former addict, Bitsy offers insight that is highly motivated by personal traumas, giving her a powerful relatability and strength. Despite her status as an icon of openness, however, she approaches questions about her work with a sort of restrained professionalism, and in many ways, it is this reserve that revealed to me the internal conflict queers feel when they must be both empathetic and forward-thinking. Also illuminated, was the pressure leaders feel to build outlets for emotions that are discordant, namely aggression and acceptance. There is a need for forceful momentum when it comes to increasing visibility and fostering respect for queer people, but there is also a need for cautiousness when dealing with a large group of traumatized people. But when a single person tries to be both the voice of catharsis and the voice of revolution, progress is muddied.



Personally, Bitsy desires more spaces for anger and more uproar among allies who sometimes seem complacent, but as a producer, she wishes to create a respite from those types of negative and sometimes painful emotions. Together with spaces where anger and retribution are central, she believes her event can catalyze the healing process and provide clarity of purpose, and she acknowledges that the lack of other perspectives is problematic; She remarks: “Cycling through emotional stages is essential to moving forward. It allows for a full scope of reflection, and that helps us know what progress looks like.”


Although More than No and Cabaret Consensual champion survivors of sexual assault regardless of how they identify, Bitsy felt it important to dedicate a select night to queer performance art, with careful consideration given to diversity and representation in the realms of gender and race. As she explains, “sexual assault survivors are a minority group unlike any other because any person can all of a sudden become a part of it and there are certain minorities that experience violence at a much higher rate. The odds of our community experiencing assault is very high– assault is experienced at the highest rate among trans and bisexual, people of color so representation is extremely important.” These statistics indicate a community that is inherently mixed, so it is essential to book entertainers who sometimes fall outside of  her immediate circle of friends to ensure that all voices are heard and equality is actively maintained. Again, fostering inclusion here is complex as there are many contradicting viewpoints.



The potential friction here is avoided by directing attendees toward consent and open discussion about kink and other unconventionalities. Using provocative performances in the genres of storytelling, burlesque, and stand-up comedy to challenge widely held ideas about sexuality, pleasure, and intimate connection, the cabaret not only informs, but endears its audience to the kinds of issues that are ignored even among friends for fear of inciting conflict. Closeness is cultivated easily and quickly in such a comfortable and inviting space, and although this queer utopia doesn’t directly galvanize people to envision clear, direct goals, it provides what many more hostile iterations of Queer Pride cannot achieve: unification and hope for progress.

Girls on Film: Re-evaluating Nostalgia in The Great Gatsby

Girls on Film: Reevaluating Nostalgia in The Great Gatsby 

Event Review for The Show Tell Project 

Reviewed by Angie Hoover 7.26.13

Last night I attended Doug Benson’s Interruption of The Great Gatsby at The Cinefamily. I hadn’t seen the film, but had heard that it was a big, awful mess designed to win over young viewers with brain-numbing hip-hop music and party culture extravagance. I couldn’t wait for the mocking to begin. But something unexpected happened between Benson’s “Does this movie take place on Earth?” and Thomas Lennon’s “Can anybody tell me who that character is? For a million dollars? Anyone?”— I became interested.

Like a lot of people who heard about Luhrmann’s Gatsby before seeing it in a theater, I went in expecting to be offended by the off-base portrayal of the Jazz Age. Because I admittedly adopt the type of unfounded nostalgia that no person my age should. As the camera swooped into a lavish hotel room and the thumping bass of club music played over the speakers, my instinct was to say “Hey! THAT’S NOT HOW IT WAS! ” But I realized then, that I had no right to think that because all my ideas of The Jazz Age are based on images from Boardwalk Empire and Betty Boop

It’s true that the emotional nuances of the original story are stomped on by Luhrmann’s signature vulgarity. And it’s true that he made Gatsby’s house look like a rap music video, but when we strip it down isn’t Gatsby an excessively rich dude who throws parties littered with drunk girls, booming music, celebrities, and free booze?…  The interpretation isn’t exactly off the mark.

Luhrmann’s movies are often panned, but I really think that he has a talent for showing us that young, stupid people are young and stupid no matter what backdrop you throw them against. We want to believe that we’ve missed out on something, that superficiality is just the oozy afterbirth of the 1980s, and that our beloved Jazz Age was better than whatever we’re living in now. But the shallowness that we criticize without restraint in our own time, existed without question, in the times that we idealize.

It was not a tale of disillusionment ..or the hopelessness of time, but I left the film wanting to understand my attachment to worlds that can no longer be accessed and my need to believe that  the magic so absent in the world today existed decades ago

About

Angelisa Miranda is a writer, content creator, and artist living the cliche in Los Angeles. Her fascination with film, theater, camp, and critical theory can only be surpassed by her somewhat unhealthy obsession with corned beef hash. 

Cynical, though never dispassionate, she spends much of her time hoping to discover innovative art in all its forms, but is ever aware that she lives alongside the success of The Kardashians and more than 7 iterations of The Real Housewives. A former casting producer, Jr. college instructor, and executive assistant in charge of mainstream PR, her written work ranges from marketing, to psychology, to journalism and beyond. In the realm of academia, she has developed college level writing guides, presentations, and handbooks for The Moorpark College Writing Center & the Pacific Oaks Learning Center. She has also contributed to grants, trial methodologies, and literature reviews for NYU’s Marron Institute of Urban Management.

Alongside her work in higher education and entertainment, she has devoted her eyes, ears, and mind grapes to playwriting, performance art, and content development. She will continue to be an advocate for powerful cinema, performance art, music, and all works that offer sincere insight about the human condition.