Queer Favourites #1: April 2022
A monthly segment on queer content.
Welcome to the first instalment of Queer Favourites, a monthly segment delving into the world of queer screen content that I’ve discovered, revisited, or reflected on during the month.
With Queer Favourites, I’ll be aiming to shine a light on titles that you might not have seen, so if my list is missing some popular additions, that’ll be why! As much as I love that queer screen content is becoming more widely accessible and universally loved, there is a diverse array of media that might not be getting the love it deserves!
Additionally, I think that it’s imperative to spotlight queer creatives when discussing queer stories, so I’ll be mainly suggesting content by LGBT filmmakers. In saying that, it’s important to acknowledge that queer identity is still valid if it isn’t publicised. For that reason, I won’t be excluding the works of filmmakers who haven’t explicitly discussed their identity. So, without further ado… here are my April Queer Favourites!
Hide and Seek (1996) • 63 minutes
Written by Cathy Nan Quinlan & Su Friedrich, directed by Su Friedrich
It feels fitting to start with Su Friedrich’s Hide and Seek, a pivotal coming-of-age film that follows 12-year-old Lou as she grows into herself and her sexuality. Her story is intertwined with a series of interviews in which lesbians honestly and humorously recount their experiences and discuss their identities. It’s a sweet and sincere exploration of lesbian youth that manages to address queer issues while maintaining a fun and uplifting tone. Discovering Friedrich’s work was, for me, almost monumental. To see lesbianism depicted on screen so candidly and without restraint, so obviously unfiltered and uninterrupted by constructs of patriarchy and cis-heteronormativity is both refreshing and healing. If any of that sounds appealing to you – watch Hide and Seek!
Hide and Seek is available to rent on Vimeo.
Kokon (2020) • 99 mins
Written & directed by Leonie Krippendorff
Kokon (Cocoon, in English) is one of my new favourite films, which should be enough to convince you to watch it! Written and directed by Leonie Krippendorff, Kokon is a German coming of age film that follows 14-year-old Nora through a hot, metamorphic summer. It’s as much about first love and teenage recklessness as it is about the unravelling that unpacking a queer identity can take – and how liberating that can be, in the end. Gorgeously intimate and crafted with a delicacy that does make it feel exactly like watching a butterfly break out of a cocoon. Watch it! You won’t regret it!
If you’re in Australia, stream Kokon for free on SBS on Demand!
Kajillionaire (2020) • 105 mins
Written & directed by Miranda July
As much as I promised to steer away from more popular media, it would be rude of me to not include one of my newly discovered favourite films of all time: Miranda July’s Kajillionaire. In fact, I’ve been digging my way through all of July’s work, and so far, I would highly recommend her shorts Somebody and Nichols Canyon Road. Kajillionaire is a film about two con artists, their 26-year-old daughter, and a heist that turns their reality inside-out. It’s a film that exists for anybody who has ever felt like their real-life was happening somewhere far away. It is deliciously queer and wonderfully kind and is best summed up in a quote from July herself: "If someone throws me a ball, I want them to know I've caught it because it's a terrible feeling to have it fall forever."
Here in Australia, you can stream Kajillionaire on Amazon Prime or Binge.
A.I. Mama • 5 mins
Written and directed by Asuka Lin
Over the past year or so, I’ve developed this deep and unwavering love for shorts. Initially, I started watching more short films because I’d been making short films, but I soon became enamoured and intrigued by the power that short-form content carries in its brevity. A.I. Mama is a post-cyberpunk exploration of loss, about a non-binary programmer attempting to reconnect with their lost mother. It’s hard to put to words each of the emotions that A.I. Mama makes me feel, and as a viewer I want to claim that it’s about every way that it connects to me personally, but that’s also the beauty of this film. In such a short time, it manages to be everything that you want it to be. And it’s only five minutes long! So you have no excuse.
A.I. Mama can be viewed for free via Asuka Lin’s website. Yay!
Hallelujah Anyway, Anyway (2021) • 5 mins
Directed by Neil Goldberg
Hallelujah Anyway, Anyway is a short documentary about a few things. Within its four-minute runtime, it looks at the simple moments that matter, and the gravity of those moments within the context of two pandemics: HIV/AIDS, and COVID-19. Goldberg walks us through his positioning within these two time periods, and what the phrase ‘hallelujah anyway’ means to him. Profound in its simplicity and touching in its humanity, Hallelujah Anyway, Anyway is a beautiful watch.
Watch it for free over at the New York Times.
Carne (2019) • 12 mins
Written by Ana Julia Carvalheiro & Camila Kater, directed by Camila Kater
Carne is the accumulation of five stories from five women about their experiences with their bodies. Each story is paired with a different animation technique and represents a different stage of womanhood: rare, medium-rare, medium, medium well, and well done. This short combines a range of different perspectives on what it means to exist within womanhood and the complex relationships that women and woman-aligned people have with their bodies. It’s a multi-award-winning short for a reason, so put aside 12 minutes and give it a watch!
Carne is available to watch for free on the New York Times website.
I’ve watched quite a few queer things this month (well, last month), and there are absolutely more than six that I’d recommend. However, in an attempt to not bombard you with recommendations, I’m going to leave this here. Except that I’m not, because I’m giving a special mention to all the lovely new queer content that has been keeping me busy over the past month, including but not limited to Heartstopper, Our Flag Means Death, and Crush.
Now I’m done! See you when I see you next, and if you found this fun, maybe subscribe!
this is a boon thank you for sharing aliyah 🌼🌼