Leviticus isn’t the first horror film I’ve reviewed for The Hollywoodland Revue. Horror and thrillers have always been some of my favorite genres. Over the years, I’ve watched and enjoyed many films that have scared, unsettled, or surprised me. What attracted me to Leviticus wasn’t just the promise of scares. While there are definitely moments that will make audiences jump, the film aims for something much deeper. It uses horror to tackle real issues like religious trauma, homophobia, repression, and the lasting emotional scars caused by conversion therapy. This shows that the best horror films aren’t just about scary monsters, but about the real ones we create ourselves.

Most people walking along Hollywood Boulevard today only look down to read the stars names embedded in the sidewalk. They notice the handprints, the souvenir shops, the superheroes posing for tips, the flashing signs, the traffic, and the constant noise. But hidden beneath all that is another Hollywood, buried under years of demolition, respectability, and selective memory. At 6724 Hollywood Boulevard, below what used to be the glamorous Christie Hotel and next to the now-gone Hotel Glidden, there was once one of the boldest queer nightspots Los Angeles had ever seen: the Club New Yorker.

Ann Blyth was one of the last living stars from Hollywood's Golden Age of movies. Possessing stunning good looks, a trained singing voice, and the ability to handle drama as easily as musicals or film noir, Blyth enjoyed a successful career that was classy, professional, and carried with it an air of dignity. She will always be remembered for playing one of film's most iconic villains, yet everyone who worked with her spoke of her as if she were the exact opposite: warm, gracious, devoutly religious, and a loving mother.

The final weekend of June brings moviegoers a surprisingly diverse lineup, ranging from a major superhero adventure and outrageous stunt comedy to independent dramas, thrillers, and horror films. Whether you're looking for big-screen spectacle, nostalgic laughs, or something a little more offbeat, theaters are offering a variety of choices as the summer movie season continues.

Anne Heche stood out among actresses of her generation for living openly and honestly. Long before most people discussed sexual fluidity, she was caught in a cultural debate she never asked for. She gained fame through her movies, but headlines often focused on her personal life. People remember her for her talent, her struggles, and her determination not to let others define her. In an industry obsessed with image, Anne often pushed back against the idea that identity is simple or easy to label.

Long before Clark Gable became the "King of Hollywood" and starred in classics like It Happened One Night, Mutiny on the Bounty, or Gone with the Wind, there was Josephine Dillon. She was older, experienced, and driven, with a deep understanding of theater. She recognized potential in a young actor that others overlooked. In many respects, she was more than just Gable's first wife—she played a key role in building his career.

Long before Hollywood Boulevard became crowded with tourists, before movie palaces lit up the skyline, and before Charlie Chaplin built his studio at La Brea and De Longpre, there was 1359 North La Brea Avenue. Tucked between strip malls and apartment buildings, this Craftsman home is one of the oldest still standing in Hollywood. Its story is as rich as the city’s and closely connected to its builder, Dr. William Francis “Frank” Traughber, an osteopathic physician who witnessed Hollywood’s transformation from a quiet farming area to the movie capital of the world.

Twenty-six years after the original Scary Movie gleefully skewered horror films and popular culture, the franchise returns with Scary Movie 6—or simply Scary Movie as the studio prefers—and its biggest selling point is also its greatest strength: the return of the Wayans family. Marlon Wayans, Shawn Wayans, Anna Faris, and Regina Hall are back, joined by familiar faces including Chris Elliott, Cheri Oteri, Lochlyn Munro, and members of the extended Wayans clan. Michael Tiddes takes over directing duties. The film largely ignores the later sequels and acts as a direct continuation of the first two movies, restoring the franchise to its original custodians.

James Burrows may not be a household name in the way that the many celebrities he directed are, but if you spent over fifty years laughing at something on your television, he probably directed it. The iconic television director worked on just about every popular television sitcom. Taxi, Cheers, Friends, Frasier, Will & Grace, The Big Bang Theory; the list goes on. Burrows passed away on June 19, 2026, at the age of 85, ending one of the most impressive careers in television history.

In June 1970, the Los Angeles Evening Citizen News featured a front-page story titled “A Man, A Minister … A Minority.” The article focused on Reverend Troy Perry, who was only twenty-nine at the time and a former Pentecostal minister. He had done something many people, both inside and outside organized religion, thought was impossible. He openly accepted his homosexuality while keeping his Christian faith. Even more, he started a church for people who had been told by almost every other church that God did not want them.

The summer movie season continues to gather momentum with a surprisingly diverse lineup of new releases arriving in theaters this weekend. Family audiences get the return of one of cinema’s most beloved animated franchises, while adults can choose between a revisionist Robin Hood tale, an LGBTQ coming-of-age drama, and a pair of darker independent offerings. Whether you're looking for nostalgia, adventure, romance, or something unsettling, this weekend provides an unusually wide range of cinematic choices.

When the history of the AIDS epidemic in Los Angeles is written, the names most often remembered are the politicians, physicians, and activists who became public faces of the crisis. Yet among those who quietly shaped the city's response from the earliest days was Hugh O. Rice, a man whose influence reached beyond headlines and television cameras. For more than two decades, Rice dedicated his life to serving the LGBTQ community, helping transform a small community clinic into one of the nation's most important centers for health care, advocacy, and support. He was not a firebrand. He was something rarer: a steady hand in a time of panic.