Slovenia’s first LGBTQ-themed film, Consequences (or Posledice, 2018), is an arresting portrayal of what happens when institutional and judicial structures fail young gay men. The debut film by director Darko Štante asks: if men haphazardly placed in youth detention centers do not receive adequate support, what happens to the gay men in it? How do failing political structures further marginalise gay men, and leave them twice-removed from society?Continue reading “‘Consequences’: On Gay Loneliness and the Spectacle of Hyper-Masculinity”
“Is this paint the kind that shines in the dark? Do you have someone who makes you happy? Someone who makes you shine like paint?”
While an unflinching look at the plight of LGBTQ Brazilians up to this day, Hard Paint (or Tinta Bruta, 2018) is a sweepingly tender portrayal of gay love. Directed by Brazilian writer-director pair Filipe Matzembacher and Marcio Reolon, the film astutely illuminates the realities of poverty, sex work, and gay loneliness amidst the backdrop of rising homophobic violence against Brazilian LGBTQ people.Continue reading “‘Hard Paint’ and the Tenderness of Gay Love”
Animation opens up universes of possibilities. In worlds drawn from the imaginations of its creators, anything can happen. So then why is there so little queer representation in Western animation? There are a few examples out there, such as Steven Universe, that provide beautiful stories that speak to adults and children alike. But these examples are few and far between, which can lead one to believe that there’s something about non-heterosexuality that is shied away from in animation, despite stories that take place in space with plethoras of alien races. There is much more queer representation in anime, though it isn’t always for the best. Yet they still include these characters and themes more often than seen in the animated films of Disney and Pixar.
This list contains eight are examples of queer stories and characters created in the world of animation. Most of them are television shows, with a few short and feature films sprinkled throughout. The length of this list is a testament to the need for more gay animation, especially in the mainstream.
“They just disappeared.”
While The Lavender Scare reminds us that the political systems which reproduce our oppression can never be trusted upon for our freedom, it fails in its glorification of American patriotism. Josh Howard’s documentary details the height of McCarthyism in the late 1940s to 50s, when gays and lesbians were purged from state offices for fear that they were “morally susceptible” to Communist influences. Continue reading “‘The Lavender Scare’ Criticises Homophobia, But Errs in Glorifying American Patriotism”
Gentleman Jack (2019) makes me feel that my life is possible. As a long-time fan of Sally Wainwright, I trusted her to do justice to Anne Lister’s diaries. My expectations were high, but after having been let down time and time again by most lesbian-centered representations, they were still within reason. Before the series premiered, I expected a brilliant portrayal of Lister – one that is done with respect and empathy. However, on the topic of lesbian sexuality, I had far less hopes. Imagine my surprise when I found out that Gentleman Jack unabashedly delights in including its lesbian audience, and revels in speaking only to lesbians. The series goes beyond merely portraying lesbians on the screen, and takes lesbian representation a notch further by being unapologetic about its depiction of lesbian desire, lesbian sex, and lesbian mannerisms.
Just as the real Anne Lister was proud of her ability to seduce women, Lister’s fourth-wall breaks in the series seduces the audience, charms them with her wit, and most importantly of all – remind lesbians that we have always existed. In-between 200 years ago and now where our lives have been violently annihilated by virtue of homophobic cruelty, we always have existed, and we continue to exist.Continue reading “‘Gentleman Jack’ Celebrates Lesbian Existence, Bravery, and Love”
“Mum, I’m gay.”
For those outside of the LGBTQ+ community, the weight of these three words (or their counterparts; “I’m bisexual”/“I’m transgender”, etc) can be difficult to comprehend. Many well-meaning people even question the necessity of such a declaration, blissfully unaware of the continued assumption that everyone is cisgender and heterosexual. For LGBTQ+ individuals, however, ‘coming out’ is often an intrinsic part of our personal development; the reaction of family and friends to one’s true self has ruined as many lives as it has made. Within this community, the majority of us have our own story – whether that story be tragic or comic, neat or messy, drawn-out or quickly resolved— and it is the broadcasting of these tales that Denis Parrot’s documentary Out concerns itself with.
The film takes clips of individuals either informing their relatives of their sexuality/gender or reflecting on their coming out stories, and presents these videos in a clear manner void of all context bar the name of the person, their location, and the time of recording. Largely – though not entirely – from the perspective of young people, these intimate moments are captured and memorialised. Assembled roughly within Parrot’s film, the viewer is exposed to the full range of experiences, from the breathtaking relief of loving acceptance, to the despair of violent rejection.
In her short film This Perfect Day (2019), Australian-Chinese Director Lydia Rui paints an intimate, and quietly moving portrait of isolation, longing and reconciliation. We begin with a young adult, Jules, (Michelle Keating) who nervously braces themselves in a car before entering a music store, while their girlfriend (Hannah Koch) assures them that there is a reason why they are here today. They enter the music store and look around anxiously, as if suggesting to the audience that a robbery is about to happen. However, what happens next is a profoundly empathetic study on the desire to reunite with the ones we love, even when there is so much that can no longer be salvaged. Continue reading “Tribeca 2019 Review: On Reconciliation and Hope in ‘This Perfect Day’”