At one point during Roland Emmerich's embarrassingly misguided take on the Stonewall Riots, invented character Danny (plush blond Brit Jeremy Irvine, whose accent emerges even more often than homophobic violence in the film) exclaims that he's so angry he just wants to break something.
So did I, not long after one the movie's earliest, most excruciating scenes, in which aw-shucks Indianan Danny, who we soon learn has been cast out of his idyllic Midwest home for being a damn dirty queer, is slobbered over by a drag queen who won't take no fucking way for an answer. The reason for my disgust was not that the character (overplayed to the hilt to Richard Jutras) was a cliché, so much as it was that the scene was constructed to make the audience cringe. Danny's excuse for being uncomfortable is that he's had zero exposure to any homosexuals other than the strapping fellow closet-case back home (played by a Marlon Brando-channeling Karl Glusman) with whom he is in love, but what is the filmmakers' excuse?
Why does a film so earnestly about LGBT rights that it ends with a mini history lesson on the subject spend so much time seeming to grimace at the LGBT characters who aren't pretty enough?