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Turn on one of these LGBTQ+ flicks to see yourself onscreen.
Even though the LGBTQ+ population is on the rise in the United States, lesbian and gay relationships are still underrepresented in much of popular media. But the good news is, a more diverse array of human experiences is appearing on screen just about every year. According to the 2020 GLAAD media report , of the 118 films released from the major studios in 2019, 22 included LGBTQ+ characters. That's the highest percentage of inclusive films in the report's history. And that representation really makes a difference. Media that shows LGBTQ+ people normalizes love and relationships between two people of the same gender, educates viewers on the long and difficult journey we're still taking toward equal rights and reinforces the fact that that gay, lesbian and LGBTQ+ people are just that, people who deserve to live loud and proud.
For newly out or young viewers, that validation is especially important as it can make them feel seen and heard in their experiences. That's a powerful thing, especially for those who don't otherwise have a safe place to be who they are. No matter your favorite genre, one of these movies focused on lesbian characters will be the perfect choice for your viewing pleasure. Be warned, though: some of them are a little hot and heavy. We've made a note of that where applicable, so you can save them for date night. Whether you want to help your LGBTQ+ teenager feel accepted or need a good film to watch with your partner, you'll find something to love on this list.
A wealthy woman and a department store clerk begin an illicit affair in this must-watch LGBTQ+ film set in the 1950s. Adapted from the cult classic The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith, it depicts how unexpected romance can change your life.
Fans of comedian Tig Notaro will love this tear-jerking documentary about life after a devastating cancer diagnosis. If you also cried your way through her stand-up set where she announced it, show this to a friend.
Many of us first watched this sleeper hit when we were teens ourselves, and it's well worth revisiting. It's poignant, hilarious and endlessly quotable.
Charlotte is a troubled musical prodigy and Elizabeth is a new star student. Before long, they find themselves starting down a dangerous path with sinister results. This LGBTQ+ thriller will send shivers down your spine.
High schooler Adele has barely begun exploring her own identity when she meets blue-haired, free-spirited Emma. Adele's friends don't accept her as she really is, so she grows even closer to Emma. As you may be able to tell from the poster, this one's best for adult audiences.
A comedic spoof on the Charlie Angels franchise, D.E.B.S. centers around the unlikely love story between the leader of an elite group of teen spies and a supervillain. You don't have to be too familiar with the original story to love this fun, flirty romp.
Like so many besties, Naomi and Ely have a firmly established "no kiss list" to protect them from getting romantically entangled. But in a surprising twist, they both come down with the hots for the same dude, even though Ely's a lesbian. Turn rom-com stereotypes upside down with this quirky, fun film.
Starring Ali Shawkat of Arrested Development , this intimate drama redefines what love between two women can look like. After getting fed up with the lies and deception their previous relationships have involved, two women spend 24 hours with each other to see if they can do any better.
Tear your eyes away from the poster image for a second, because the story is just as enticing. It follows the love story of Tala, a London-based Palestinian woman who's planning her wedding when she meets and falls for Leyla, a British Indian woman.
Simone's trying to work up the bravery to come out as a lesbian to her conservative Jewish family when she develops a crush on a dashing male chef. This snort-worthy comedy covers the spectrum of romantic attraction, with lots of heartfelt and funny moments along the way.
Comic book artists Holden and Banky have been buds for more than 20 years, but when they meet Alyssa, it could throw a wrench in their friendship. Holden falls hard, but there's just one problem: Alyssa doesn't date men. This fun comedy also has an excellent throwback soundtrack.
From the minds that brought you There's Something About Mary comes this cringeworthy holiday comedy. A woman brings her girlfriend home for Thanksgiving, intending to come out to the whole clan. But then her male roommate shows up and, well, let's just say it doesn't go as planned.
In 1901, Elisa Sanchez Loriga assumed a male identity to marry her lover, Marcela Gracia Ibeas. This classic movie is based on that riveting story, with beautiful scenery to boot. If you're a fan of foreign films and love stories, this one's perfect for date night
After Nina Shah's father dies, she has to move back to Glasgow to help keep her family's restaurant afloat. That's where she meets Lisa, who owns half. Romance (and lots of tasty-looking food) follows. Grab a snack before pressing play.
Most buddy comedies focus on two straight dudes, so check out this female-fronted flick for a change of pace. Sasha (who's a lesbian) and Paige (who's straight) are best friends, and always put their relationship first. But then Paige meets a new guy that threatens their unbreakable bond.
Buckle in for a dark crime thriller by The Wachowskis that follows Corky, a lesbian ex-con-turned plumber who concocts a plot with Violet to steal millions and pin it on Violet's boyfriend. If you're not in the mood for romance but still want an LGBTQ+ film, try this one.
If you're the type to watch holiday movies year-round (guilty as charged), this star-studded Christmas film works anytime. Our protagonist plans to propose to her girlfriend at Christmas when they spend the holidays with her family, but on their way there, she finds out she isn't out to them. It's heartwarming, funny and the outfits are on point.
After a long estrangement due to her sexual transgressions, Ronit returns home to her super-conservative, Orthodox Jewish community in London and rediscovers a passion for her childhood friend, Esti. It's a stirring exploration of faith, community and love.
Wil is busy with her career as a surgeon and balancing the expectations of her traditionalist Chinese mother, which don't include her dancer girlfriend Vivian. But then her mom shows up with a surprise that calls her bluff. The ending will get your toes tapping, guaranteed.
Gray and Sam are siblings who are so close, people sometimes assume they're actually a couple. They agree to branch out and find each other a mate, but when Sam does, it doesn't exactly go as planned.
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Within days of meeting Reshma, Preethi felt as if her heart had been gently cracked open and laid out in the sun.
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The day after her grandmother died suddenly on a hot summer day in 2017, Reshma Mokenwar stretched out in front of the family television. She was a 28-year-old sales assistant from Mumbai with a heart-shaped face stained yellow from a lifetime of turmeric fairness treatments and a tongue sharpened through the knife grinder of a bad marriage.
Secretly, Reshma was thrilled that her grandmother was finally burning in a hell that, for once, was not of her own making. But the old woman’s crumbling home in Chikhali, a godforsaken village on the border of the states of Telangana and Maharashtra, filled her with gloom even on good days like these.
As her mother, sisters, and aunts covered their heads with the folds of their white saris and squatted by the door to receive condolences, Reshma drifted in and out of sleep under the spell of television home shopping commercials.
She closed her eyes, pictured a door, and waited for it to open. After a while, when no one materialized, she grunted and turned over to reboot the dream. This time she saw eyes that burned with the luminosity of a thousand suns and tasted a scent that was the earth after it had rained. Preethi Sarikela, an 18-year-old daughter of her father’s cousin’s sister from the village who was stretched out on the bed beside her, shifted a lock of hair from her face and smiled. Even though Reshma had never met this girl before, it was Preethi who felt like her own in a room full of familiar faces.
“You girls have any shame?” An uncle’s voice boomed from outside the dreamy fog. “Want me to beat it into you?” Preethi’s eyes clouded with embarrassment, and she untangled herself from Reshma to make tea for a new flock of relatives at the door.
Years earlier, when Reshma found herself alone on the ground of a cotton field contemplating suicide, she had asked herself how much of her was alive and received no reply. Days later, when she woke up on a hospital bed, she vowed to never give up another opportunity to live. Now she followed Preethi to the kitchen and tapped her shoulder. “I am Reshma,” she said. “Did you feel a fire between us?”
On the night of their wedding, Reshma didn’t want her husband to touch her. When he slipped his hand inside her blouse, she threatened to break his arm and throw it to a pack of dogs. He slapped her, told her to lay down as instructed, and climbed on top of her. When he grew tired of her protests, he buried his head in her chest and kept moving. The next morning, Reshma went to work in her husband’s place in the cotton fields while he blew his dowry money in jugs at the corner liquor shop.
“Don’t think too much,” Reshma’s mother Rekha told her on the phone when she sensed her disquietude. “It’s a bad habit.”
Night after night, Reshma lay in the stench of her husband and tried to make sense of the anger, shame, disgust, and betrayal that consumed her when his ragged nails tore into her skin like a rusted farm sickle. She reminded herself of her mother and clenched her eyes shut to quit the bad habit of thinking too much. She saw the low-ceilinged home of her childhood in Friends Colony. A termiteproof shrine of Lord Ganesh and Lord Krishna fitted with a disco ball and an electric candle. The pink-and-yellow peplum frock of her school days. Her mother’s small hands. An overturned dinner plate. A dangling water pipe. Suddenly the silent images came alive, and she started to shake with anger. She saw herself as a child, crashing into her father, kicking him, biting him, punching him, and shouting at him to leave her mother alone. She saw him dashing around madly, flogging Rekha with a rubber hose, and her eyes filled with tears.
When Reshma looked into the mirror, she saw glimpses of her mother, and a familiar wave of confused anger broke inside her. Why did her mother bring her father a cup of tea for his headache after he had brutally beaten her the night before? And why did she bring her husband a cup of tea the morning after she felt that he had forced himself on her?
Those days, whenever Reshma talked to her mother, she could tell that whatever Rekha said to her was an echo of something her brothers and father wanted her to know:
“Your father is working overtime at the driving job to repay the loan he took for your dowry.”
“Your brother Ganesh has rented out his two taxis because he is still burdened with bills from your wedding.”
“Your brother Kishen has crushed his political ambitions and become a bank clerk to help out with household expenses.”
One day Reshma finally snapped. “A woman should leave her parents’ house in a palanquin and return only in a bier ,” she said sharply. “That is what you want to tell me?”
One night in 2013, days after their sixth wedding anniversary, Reshma’s husband dragged her to a shack in the landlord’s cotton field in a fit of drunken rage. Why did she not want him to touch her? Was she sleeping with her brother-in-law? Did he satisfy her after he satisfied her sister? Reshma looked up at the sky, saw the skeletons of cotton stalks swaying in a pale moonlight, and it occurred to her that she wanted to be free. She emptied a bottle of pesticide into her mouth, stared back into her husband’s bloodshot eyes, and wiped her lips.
“I am Reshma,” she said to Preethi in her grandmother’s kitchen four years after she climbed out of a hospital bed and walked out on her husband for good. “Do you also feel there is a fire between us?”
The clatter of teacups in Preethi’s hands stopped. “Yes,” came a bell-clear reply.
For the next 13 days, during the time it was said to take for her grandmother’s soul to break free from her mortal remains and transcend into the universe, according to Hindu funeral customs, Reshma and Preethi became fused into each other.
They wandered off on long walks together, fell into stacks of hay, sang songs, and felt the sun on their faces. Reshma braided Preethi’s hair. Preethi shaped Reshma’s eyebrows. When they made love, they let their bodies come alive.
So far, Reshma had floated through life, never willing the direction she was going in. Now, in Preethi’s company, she was starting to feel her heels finally digging into the earth. In their short time together, Reshma came to know a happiness that permeated her deepest memories and allowed her to finally grieve them.
One afternoon, resting her head in Preethi’s lap, Reshma narrated a sequence of dialogues she had recently memorized from a TV show called The “Other” Love Story. “This world, these rules, the unseen society, binding love, incomprehensible relationships, must-do obligations, the order, the rights and the wrongs of the conditioned mind. All this on one side,” Reshma told Preethi. “The look in your eyes when you look at me, that touch in your hand when you hold me, that word on the tip of your tongue which stays unsaid, and that sigh which gets heavy when we move closer.” Preethi paused to listen carefully, and Reshma continued: “That magnetic energy that gets created when we share the same space. And that tremble which gets etched on our beings when we move away. All this on the other side.”
On the 13 th day of Reshma’s grandmother’s wake, when the extended family prepared to disperse back to their towns and villages across Maharashtra and Telangana, Preethi’s eyes swept across the room and rested on Reshma in a silent accusation. Was she just going to watch and allow them to go their separate ways?
Reshma ran up to Preethi’s mother and took the bags from her hand. “Let me carry those for you,” she said. “Your knees must be hurting.” Narsa, a scrawny woman hunched from a lifetime of picking cotton, doddered behind, listening eagerly as Reshma exaggerated her experience as a sales assistant at Patanjali Ayurved, a chain of shops selling Ayurvedic medicines invented by a famous yoga guru, Baba Ramdev.
“Ginger and root pepper are good for joint pain,” Reshma said to Narsa as she helped her climb into the minibus headed for their village. “If you have any pain, call me, and I’ll make it all vanish.” As the bus turned, Reshma ran up to Preethi’s window and winked, hinting that she had figured out a plan for them to see each other again.
Days later, Reshma appeared at Preethi’s doorstep in Bazarhathnoor, a farming village 500 miles from Mumbai, carrying a bag stuffed with the Patanjali Ayurvedic medicines she had recommended to Narsa. As Reshma pulled out fairness creams, oils, face packs, shampoos, and conditioners, Preethi, bubbling with laughter, stood in the corridor and watched her mother’s face light up.
“Have you met Baba Ramdev?” Narsa wanted to know. The influential guru, who appeared in a saffron loincloth on television screens across the countryside, claimed to harness ancient Indian wisdom into affordable cures for diabetes, hypertension, baldness, heart problems, impotence, cancer, and homosexuality.
From the moment Reshma stepped into Preethi’s house, she made herself at home, a useful strategy she had learned from her grandmother. If you didn’t need to feel welcome, how could you be made to feel unwelcome?
Reshma slipped her finger into the hook of Preethi’s pinky as she marveled at how Narsa’s cotton crops had blossomed into fluffy little clouds. She followed the rustle of Preethi’s anklets to the kitchen and sank her face into her neck. They pressed their bodies together in a darkened afternoon room as Preethi’s younger brother, Tarun, recited multiplication tables outside.
One evening, when Preethi complained about a pulled muscle in her leg, Reshma asked if she wanted a massage, and began kneading her calves. Preethi’s father, Ushanna, who drank his tea silently in another corner of the room, watched Reshma’s hands move in widening circles farther and farther up his daughter’s legs. Preethi’s face grew soft in a way that made him uncomfortable.
Ushanna cleared his throat. “You must have important work in Mumbai,” he said. “Don’t let us keep you from work.”
“We are family,” Reshma answered. “What’s more important than family?”
As months went by, and the frequency and duration of Reshma’s visits increased, Preethi’s parents started to resent her for unsettling the peace of their home. Suddenly Preethi’s conversation overflowed with foolish ideas about moving to the city for work. Reshma’s name rolled off her tongue when she meant to call out to an aunt or a cousin. In Reshma’s company, she looked at her parents with a wild look in her eyes, as if she had just remembered that they also lived there.
Preethi’s father worried that his daughter w
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