Sitting in the University of Western Ontario's Conron Hall, I cannot help but be embarrassed that despite having had three classes in this room, this is the first time that I have ever really paid attention to what was going on. I check into full student mode, pawing uncaringly through a Gazette, sneaking sips of Coke Zero in a room that expressly forbids food consumption, and doing my best to pretend that I belong in the room. This time, however, I am not here to “Read Pop Culture” or because I thought that “Children's Literature” would be an easy credit. I am here because I saw a poster stapled to an electricity pole in downtown London advertising the Emergence Queer Film Festival.
Not sure what to expect, I set up my little writing station at one of the desks and watch as around 30 people, all of whom seem to know each other (or at least members of each others' packs), trudge into the theatre and find seats. Of those thirty, I notice that only about 5 of them are people who immediately register in my mind as male. Even for a festival that celebrates the liquidity of gender and sexuality, the demographic seems a bit skewed. However, I have neither the know-how or the inclination to try to understand what this means.
As we get closer to the start time, I start to feel a bit nervous that I am not the “Queer Ally” I think I am. I am worried that one of these films will expose some latent, unconscious homophobia in myself which I have, in the past, unwittingly unleashed upon a person or group that I did not understand. Coupled with this fear is my frustration with the woman behind me eating a brownie loudly enough that I can hear her saliva lubricating her mouth. This is the last thought that I have before the first of ten short films plays in front of me.
The Queen is an interesting fictional piece which is received well with the crowd. It shows a brief moment in the life of a teenage boy working at a dry cleaner's. After a minute or two, it becomes clear that this young man is gay, as he slips into a fantasy about wearing the dress a classmate of his has dropped off in preparation for prom, while he dances passionately with the prom queen's boyfriend.
During various moments, the audience laughs as the young dry cleaner discovers himself in front of us, most notably in the film's final moment as the shop owner (I believe it's his mom), walks in to find him wearing the gown. Perhaps because of the look on his face, half the room sees the scene as comedy, laughing at the boy's exposition. Perhaps because of my nervous sense of hyper-sensitivity, I was bothered by the laughter. This is someone who feels secrecy about their sexual identity, and whose preference for wearing women's clothing is exposed to a woman who we have earlier been led to believe represents a traditional way of thinking. This could possibly an enormous moment in this young man's sexual development so I cannot help but be puzzled at the crowd's amused reaction.
Poker Face is one of my favourite pieces of the night. In it, a woman, when given news of her father's death, chooses to reveal to her lesbian peer group that she used to live in a male body, or in her words “used to be a man.” The truly compelling thing about this film is that it shines a light on transphobia as a separate issue from homophobia. Even amongst a group of homosexual women, the idea of one of them having undergone gender reassignment is shocking and possibly problematic. It's an important distinction that helps educate the uninitiated (such as myself) in having a better understanding of the different variations of human sexuality. It's one thing to be able to claim solidarity with the queer community but it's a whole other experience to be exposed to the difficulties of individual identifications along its spectrum. At its conclusion, the film discusses these issues within the context of a romantic relationship, recognizing that despite these differences, love is love, no matter how you dress it up.
While I may have felt a bit out of my element before, Somebody is Watching Us is among the more challenging films of the night. Split between an English as a Second Language class and a men's room, the film follows a young, homosexual immigrant has a spontaneous, although interrupted, sexual encounter with another young man who turns out to be a new student in his class. After the encounter, the two realize that they are in the same class but it becomes immediately apparent that the second man is uncomfortable about the arrangement and that is where things get hairy.
Eventually, we learn that the second young man is new to the concept of a culture where his orientation is more accepted. The first man's methods for introducing him to this new reality are confusing and problematic, however, as his method of acclimatization involves increasingly aggressive behaviour, starting with uncomfortably long looks and escalating to the forceful grabbing of the second man's thigh before they nearly come to blows and end up in an extended chase. While everything does resolve, with both men walking together, as friends (or more), in solidarity with each other, the actions which lead to this resolution are forceful and violent. Whether it is in either party's best interests is beyond the point that excessive attention and unwanted touching are harassment. Perhaps this violent coming out is meant to be read as more of a metaphor than a literal action, however there is certainly irony in overcoming oppression with violations of personal freedom and space.
The Price of Flowers is notable for being the only film in the series to deal with queer issues almost exclusively as a framework rather than as content. The story, set in New Orleans, deals with a homeless gay couple who are struggling to get by. One of the men is dealing with physical issues which prevent him from working while the other spends the bulk of his days selling flowers to passersby for just enough money to live. I do not mean to suggest that other queer films “overuse” their gay elements but rather than being a movie about gay culture, this is a movie about poverty, courage, addiction, fear, and hopelessness, and it just so happens that it is within the context of a gay relationship. All of these other elements are potential universal concerns, which encourages a sympathetic reaction from the viewer.
The only “gay” parts of the story are the bookend scenes. We open with the two men in a shelter, with one wishing that they could be sharing a bed. The last scene, following what may be one of the worst days of his life, the same man hops off of his top bunk and lays down to cuddle with his partner. It is a poignant moment where a man, in need of comfort, seeks love from the one person he can count on it from. He is not trying to make a statement or educate the world about equality. He is a man in a desperate situation who reaches a point where all he needs is companionship and love and Who could possibly deny him that?
I'm Just Anneke is a short documentary about a child who has struggled, from a young age, with gender identity. Compared to Poker Face, which deals with a trans woman who is well-established in her female identity, Anneke, at least in pronouns, still identifies as female but prefers the clothing of male identification. This is not a child who necessarily feels like a boy trapped in a girl's body, rather Anneke is a child who is choosing to arrest her puberty and sexual development until she can make an informed decision about which, if any, gender she will ascribe to.
While the movie does not dwell on the negatives of this decision, it does paint the picture of a child who has developed self-awareness and is able to express herself enough to understand the potential consequences of her choices. We are told that Anneke exhibited signs of Depression and even suicidal tendencies from as young as 5 years old. Nonetheless, I'm Just Anneke is a story of hope and acceptance. It shows well-informed people making important medical decision and surrounding themselves with supportive, understanding people. Among the most poignant moments of the film is one where Anneke is sitting on a trampoline with a bunch of her female friends. One says, and I paraphrase, “When I first met Anneke, I thought she was a boy. Then I found out that she was a girl and I said, 'Oh, ok.'” It's a moment that shows the acceptance of childhood logic when left unpolluted by intolerance and fear. It insists that if Anneke's okay with who she is, it shouldn't be of any concern of yours.
I'm not going to bother to pretend that I understand this piece the way it is intended, especially since I can't figure out its mood. Its increasingly frantic pace and dramatic sounds create a feeling of stress and urgency, meanwhile its silly premise (a mysterious figure handing out flyers stating that the protagonist is a lesbian) and occasional moments of goofiness (like a baby holding a flyer) give it a possibly unintentional comedic twist. If I'm reading it right, I believe the film is about confrontation with sexual identity and the nagging unease of not being able to recognize or express your sexuality but at just a couple of minutes long, it's difficult to say with any certainty.
Of the films this evening, Go Go Reject is the most familiar in terms of form and execution. It's a fictional story with a fairly typical structure (young man wants to become a dancer, meets resistance, changes the rules of the game in order to succeed) that one could imagine being fleshed out into a half-hour TV episode or even a full length feature film. That's not to say that it's an incomplete piece,, rather just that as far as short films go, it is quite accessible to someone like myself who is fairly unfamiliar with the form.
Go Go Reject goes out of its way to entertain as much as it does to inform. It recognizes that issues like stereotypes and body image are important but it never wants you to stop looking at the screen and enjoying what you're seeing. It's silly, and fun, and introduces its challenges without pretending that it's going to save the world. It is the film of the evening to receive two rounds of applause, a reaction which is not entirely undeserved.
Since the film festival is happening at Western, I think it's fair to drop a university-centric reference in saying that Genderbusters has the look and feel of an Orientation Week promotional video. It bathes in its amateurity while still confronting some very relevant and under-discussed issues. As a would-be organization of injustice fighters, the Genderbusters are a group of young individuals, all of whom defy traditional ideas of gender. In the film, they encounter situations which seem to demand a black or white answer and, through direct action, insist on a rejection of binary gender norms.
The last gender issue they “bust” stands out to me, especially, because it shines the light on a system which I have, unknowingly, been a part of. The scene plays out with a person struggling to know which box to check when applying for a job. As the person does not feel that either the “male” or “female” box applies, the Genderbusters rush in, cause a distraction, and replace the form with one that has options like “Neither” and, my favourite “My sexual orientation and gender has no bearing on my ability to perform this job.” The playful tone of the video makes the discussion accessible and easy to engage.
The Island is a speech made in response to an ignorant e-mail sent to the filmmaker about how all of “them” should just be sent off to an island somewhere to give each other AIDS. Rather than biting back with malice or hatred, the film follows this train of thought, imagining what such an island would look like. As the ideas are presented, animated representations of the island start to pop up. I'm unsure as to just how tongue-in-cheek the whole experience is, especially when it gets to the point about celebrating anyone who does contract AIDS as a deity before pushing them into a volcano but the final statement is perhaps the most important one. The last line suggests that an island filled only with people with identical identifications would be, in his words, lonely. Instead of biting back, the filmmaker responds to the island-e-mail by saying that he'd rather not live in a world with just homosexuals, which, of course invites us to do the same.
The last film of the series is called Pleasure Craft, a documentary-style short filmed in London by a filmmaker named Anthea Black. Since her film has come with a Q&A and plenty of content, I'll talk about it tomorrow instead.
All in all the first night has been both educational and inspiring. It is a testament to the progress of society that films like these, films which can challenge and incite, as well as comfort and enable, have a place, even if that place is in a tragically underattended film festival. By no means do I wish to criticize the work of the people who have put Emergence together, rather I hope that discussions, like the ones above help bring an even bigger audience to next year's festival.
I love your raw honesty in writing these reviews, Quod. There's a kind of vulnerability that not everyone would have the stones to be honest about.
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