Underseen Queer Films For Pride Month
There is a homogeneity to the oh-so-many articles of gay film recommendations that Google spits out; an endless array of films that anyone with more than the bare minimum passing interest in queer cinema has watched to death. Lists where Love, Simon is treated as a transgressive work, where Call Me By Your Name is an unknown indie, where Blue is the Warmest Colour is the first-ever lesbian film…
There is a homogeneity to the oh-so-many articles of gay film recommendations that Google spits out; an endless array of films that anyone with more than the bare minimum passing interest in queer cinema has watched to death. Lists where Love, Simon is treated as a transgressive work, where Call Me By Your Name is an unknown indie, where Blue is the Warmest Colour is the first-ever lesbian film.
What of the films that didn’t make it big? Those that never got showered in awards recognition? Those that don’t have listicle after listicle singing their praises? For that, there’s hyperspecific Letterboxd lists and threads only found in the deepest pits of Film Twitter. And me!
The criteria for this list is as follows:
First; The queerness must be central to the film and undeniable. No ‘blink and you miss it’ “representation”. You will not find one of Disney’s 12 ‘first queer characters’ here.
Second; The films must actually be underseen. Nothing with major awards recognition or box office success will be featured here (but you should still watch gay Oscar-winner Moonlight.)
And finally; The film must be somewhat accessible, something you can watch without having to buy an out-of-print DVD for a small fortune.
Suicide Kale (dir. Carly Usdin, 2016)
“If we were on a completely empty bus, I’d still sit right next to you.”
A lesbian dark comedy that punches above its micro-budget.
New girlfriends Jasmine (Brittani Nichols, right) and Penn (Lindsay Hicks, left) arrive for a meal at their married friends’ home. While snooping around, they find a suicide note. Trapped by social convention, the two lovers face a daunting dinner while trying to scope out the suicide risk. Cue an unravelling dinner where every line is a double-meaning, a potential confession, a risk of unleashing marital carnage.
Despite the heavy subject matter, Suicide Kale is a remarkably at-ease affair due to its mumblecore trappings. Writer and star Brittani Nichols finds the laughs in every interaction between the four lesbian lovebirds and their differing relationships. Its low budget production actually aids the affair, making it feel naturalistic and aiding the intimate and casual approach the script has to the central story. At only 77 minutes, the film flies by. Well worth the investment.
Own voices? Yes! The cast and crew are almost exclusively queer women.
Where can I find it? Rent on Amazon (UK), iTunes (UK), or stream for free on Kanopy (US)
Kajillionaire (dir. Miranda July, 2020)
“I’ll call you ‘hon’ for $1,575”. . ."Hon. Oh, hon. My sweetheart. My sweet baby."
A quirky crime drama becomes a scorchingly tender romance.
Two con artists use their daughter to commit minor fraud and mail heists. When a flimsy plan falls apart, they recruit a carefree stranger into joining them. Her presence sends this unconventional family dynamic into chaos.
Critical darling Miranda July brings her classic quirkiness to the affair, evident in every turn of phrase in her script and the distinct styling and mannerisms of each character. Actress Evan Rachel Wood gives one of the most vulnerable performances I’ve ever seen on camera, comparable to Ashton Sander’s performance in gay Oscar-winner Moonlight. Both are guarded, deeply lonely and deprived in ways they can’t quite verbalise.
Old Dolio (Wood, right) and Melanie (Gina Rodriguez, left) sell their love story, with tension and affection in abundance. Melanie, effervescent and experienced, boldly pursues Dolio while making space for her to open up, perhaps for the first time in her life.
In a Vulture interview, July said “I know how hurtful it is to not feel held. 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.”
If that speaks to you, this is the film for you.
Own voices? Yes! July is a queer filmmaker and Wood is bisexual. The end result is one of the most achingly vulnerable depictions of a queer person rising into their sexuality and one of the most tender love stories between women this writer has ever seen.
Where can I find it? Rent on all storefronts. Buy it on Blu-ray/DVD (US).
Benjamin (dir. Simon Amstell, 2019)
“You just like people who are well-lit and weak, don’t you?”
If you were a gay British child in the late 2000s, chances are you religiously watched the BBC fantasy series Merlin. Only seven years after that series concluded, you’d see the titular twink in a role perhaps even queerer than the legendary warlock.
On the eve of his sophomore film’s premiere, rising filmmaker Benjamin (Colin Morgan, left) grapples with his nerves and collides with French musician (Phénix Brossard, right) and begins a romance that challenges his anxious nature. Based on director Simon Amstell’s own experiences, the film depicts Simon fumbling his way through friendships and hookups while trying to figure out what he truly wants in life.
Morgan plays the lead remarkably well, having to balance Benjamin’s borderline neurotic behaviour with sincerity and dry humour in equal measure. His romance with Brossard’s Noah is incredibly sweet and balances Benjamin’s humour-as-defense-mechanism from ever being grating. Beyond that, the supporting cast keep the affair light, playing semi-caricatures of the film industry (the self-serious artists and divorced-from-reality PR agents). Benjamin is also shot in Academy ratio, lending a cinematic flair that’s fitting for a film about a director obsessed with his film.
The jokes land, the romance tenderises, the exploration of mental health hits, and the biting mockery of pretentious, self-obsessed artists definitely satisfies. All of it comes together to create a bittersweet romantic comedy with an unexpected punch.
Own voices? Yes! The director, Simon Amstell, is gay and based the film on his own experiences.
Where can I find it? Stream on Amazon (UK/US), Kanopy (US), and DVD (UK).
The Miseducation of Cameron Post (dir. Desiree Akhavan, 2018)
"How is programming people to hate themselves not emotional abuse?"
A schoolgirl, a lesbian hippie and their two-spirit gay friend enter a conversion camp.
The start of an audacious joke or a harrowing tale of gay brutality? The answer is both.
In 1993, Cameron (Chloë Grace Moretz) enters a Christian gay conversion camp after being discovered making out with her girlfriend. While juggling their absurd activities based in pseudoscience to help “cure her” of her same-sex (because what’s straighter than making arts and crafts of your gay shame followed by evening karaoke, even if it is Christian pop?) Cameron befriends two fellow outsiders; hippie Jane (American Honey's Sasha Lane, centre) and the two-spirit Native teen Adam (The Revenant's Forrest Goodluck, left). Together, the trio lean on each other through the trials the camp throws their way.
While a film about something as brutally homophobic as gay conversion seems like a miserable watch, especially for Pride month, there are few films as beautifully judged on the subject. Director Akhavan’s pen weaves her infamous dry humour and laugh-out-loud moments into the story without ever underselling the cruelty of the practice. Cameron’s sexuality is handled with refreshing honesty, showing her as a sexual person, even within the confines of the camp. In one sequence, she imagines making out with an English teacher in front of everyone before being snapped back to reality. More refreshing yet, we are spared from another narrative of self-loathing gay people who grapple with shame for a feature length runtime. Cameron and her friends are perhaps the only characters in the film who don’t have an issue with their sexualities or gender identities, emphasising how absurd the idea of a camp viciously dedicated to erasing these non-issues is. Simultaneously, the film never mocks or degrades their gay peers who are deeply resentful of their homosexuality, depicting that with the weight and compassion needed. All of this is a tall order and Akhavan handles it effortlessly.
Ultimately, The Miseducation of Cameron Post is a film about the resilience of queer people. How we, when faced with an inhospitable environment, will create a home within each other.
Own voices? Yes! The director Desiree Akhavan is bisexual (and you should watch her show The Bisexual) and the book is written by lesbian author Emily M. Danforth.
Where can I find it? Rent on all storefronts. Stream on Prime, Peacock (US). Stream for free on Kanopy, Tubi (US). Also on DVD/Blu-ray (UK/US)
1985 (dir. Yen Tan, 2018)
“You left home just as soon as you could. You couldn’t have left any faster.”
As the AIDS Crisis worsens, Adrian (Cory Michael Smith of Gotham fame) leaves New York to visit his family for the holidays. Little do they know it may be his last time.
Unlike many “queer person visiting their conservative family” narratives this is not a case of Adrian fighting against a small-minded family depicted as country bumpkins. In fact, Adrian is humbled by the unexpected layers he finds of his family; his mother is politically involved and secretly voting against Reagan, his brother has his own burgeoning sexuality, even his father reveals unprecedented layers of vulnerability.
Smith gives a layered performance, acting as the benevolent straight-edge son returning to the nest while holding the grief of a gay man who has lost his friends to a disease ravaging his community and likely himself. Virginia Madsen and Michael Chiklis put their Golden Globes chops to practise, making simple characters feel like real, lived-in people. This adds to the catharsis of Adrian opening up to them in the film’s latter half.
The gorgeous black and white cinematography and grainy filmic look creates an almost cosy aesthetic during the Christmas scenes, disarming you from the emotional gut punches lying in wait.
As far as AIDS dramas go, this is a fairly easy watch. There’s no depiction of the deterioration of AIDS on Adrian’s body. Instead, the film’s dread builds from what is on the horizion for him. The film’s decision to focus instead on the love Adrian holds for his friends and family and desire to leave them with joyful final memories, and more importantly to show how that love is reciprocated in abundance, makes this an incredibly sweet watch.
At the lean and mean runtime of 85 minutes, it’s well worth the gamble. But if you’re still unsure, consider trying the beautiful short film of the same name.
Own voices? Yes! The director Yen Tan is a gay man who lived through the AIDS Crisis himself. The lead, Cory Michael Smith, is also a gay man.
Where can I find it? Rent on all storefronts (UK/US). Stream on Peacock (US). Stream for free on Kanopy, Tubi (US). Also on DVD/Blu-ray (UK/US).
Professor Marston and the Wonder Women (dir. Angela Robinson, 2017)
“A person is most happy when they are submissive to a loving authority.”
To learn that the iconic character of Wonder Woman was created by a polyamorous throuple led by the inventor of the lie detector test is a jarring experience. But by the end of the first act, it felt perfectly reasonable. Three bold academic voices come together, bonding over their at-the-time radical views on gender and sexuality, challenging each other. Of course sparks would fly. And when they’re as absurdly hot as this cast, it’s completely believable that they’d fall into lust and love.
Luke Evans plays William Marston, an American psychologist trying to change how young men see women and war believing this can save the world. The film is framed around Marston being called to stand before a committee accusing his Wonder Woman comics of being vulgar, man-hating smut (if only Hollywood today would dare be so bold) and reflecting on the origins of the character and, by extension, the two brilliant women who inspired it.
It’s easy to think of Professor Marston as a film about kink and comics, but beyond that it’s about three unique voices that dared challenge a conservative society’s beliefs on sexuality and a woman’s place.
Rebecca Hall (right) steals the show as Marston’s wife and fellow psychologist Elizabeth, a firecracker unable to live in the constraints of her time. She’s simultaneously fighting a deeply-instilled puritanism in regards to her sexuality. Her journey to accept and submit to that is incredibly well done. She’s given grace to be the complicated and challenging person she is. Hall’s performance portrays all of this without ever letting you forget the deeply loving and devoted woman behind all of that.
The third part of this love story, the Marston’s assistant Olive (Bella Heathcote, left), is perhaps the heart of the group. To see her journey from a fearful girl longing to have the space to explore her deeply shamed curiosities into a mature woman comfortable in her power is among the most rewarding elements of the film. Her relationship with Elizabeth is electric, as sweet as it is erotic. Their chemistry ripples and the dialogue warms.
“I see you in everything you do. I think you’re magnificent.”
I feel obliged to put a disclaimer before this proclaiming that we don’t know the actual nature of the Marston’s relationship as they were very private people. What we do know is that the three cohabitated and that William Marston had children with both women, one of which Elizabeth named after Olive. They even continued living together long after his passing. Still, one of their grandchildren has come out insisting there was nothing romantic between the two women. The details of their relationship lived and died with the Marstons, but as far as speculations go this is a particularly engaging one.
Own voices? Yes! The writer-director Angela Robinson is a lesbian with a very queer filmography. The lead actor Luke Evans is a gay man.
Where can I find it? Rent on all storefronts (UK/US). Stream on Peacock (US). Stream for free on Kanopy, Tubi (US). Also on DVD (UK) and Blu-ray (EU/US).
Knife+Heart (dir. Yann Gonzalez, 2018)
“Let me smell your skin one last time. So I won’t be frightened alone in the dark.”
For the last film on this list, I offer a more out-there pick: a neon-drenched French slasher about a gay serial killer slicing his way through the picturesque cast of a lesbian producer’s gay porn studio.
With a broken heart and a diminishing cast, Anne (Vanessa Paradis) must trek through 1970’s France to unearth this leather-clad killer’s identity and motivations to stop him for good. With a cast as vibrant as its colour palette, a story as exciting and unpredictable as its killer, and a truly magnificent electronic score by M83, I cannot recommend this film enough. You will, however, never look at a dildo the same way again.
Own voices? Yes! The writer-director Yann Gonzalez is a gay man. A significant chunk of the cast is also gay and trans.
Where can I find it? Stream on Shudder (US). Stream for free on Kanopy, Tubi (US).
My initial list was twice as long and grows everyday, but I don’t dare go on for too long in this attention economy. A sequel is inevitable. In the meantime, please reach out if this article inspires you to try something new. My Letterboxd is @24framesasecond. A longer list can be found there for you completionists.