{"id":1858,"date":"2022-06-24T17:07:53","date_gmt":"2022-06-24T16:07:53","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.watershed.co.uk\/film-academy\/?post_type=faresources&p=1858"},"modified":"2024-10-18T17:22:04","modified_gmt":"2024-10-18T16:22:04","slug":"queer-is-not-a-genre-wildhood-girls-girls-girls-and-the-importance-of-multi-faceted-characters","status":"publish","type":"faresources","link":"https:\/\/www.watershed.co.uk\/film-academy\/resources\/film-criticism\/queer-is-not-a-genre-wildhood-girls-girls-girls-and-the-importance-of-multi-faceted-characters\/","title":{"rendered":"Queer is not a Genre\u00a0"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

As part of Queer Vision Film Festival<\/a>, Sally MacAlister explores the importance of having multi-faceted characters and other themes in Wildhood<\/em> and Girls Girls Girls<\/em>.<\/strong>\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Queer\u2019 is a beautiful term, but it isn\u2019t a genre<\/strong> <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

It\u2019s not rocket science: I\u2019m queer, but I\u2019m also left-handed, can\u2019t cook, and watch too much TV.\u202f I love Joni Mitchell. I have an appendix scar. I\u2019m part of a friendship group. I have a life beyond my sexuality; it makes up a lot but not all of me. Films are a lot like people, in that respect. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I love films that centre\u202faround<\/em>\u202fqueer people; their panic and joy make my panic and joy feel normal. But something inside of me stirs when someone refers to a \u2018Queer Movie\u2019.\u202f What exactly does that mean? Does it mean it\u2019s a film about being split in two, or being ostracised, or feeling like a disappointment? I understand where this sentiment comes from, but it seems to me that people have forgotten that \u2018Queer\u2019 isn\u2019t only a term for the genre of tortured-coming-outs and heart-breaking-HIV-epics. If you want to film a tragedy, say tragedy with your chest. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Girls Girls Girls<\/em>\u202fand\u202fWildhood<\/em>\u202fare what people may call \u2018queer\u2019 films. The main characters in each are unflinchingly and unapologetically themselves by the time the credits roll. They love who they love and they exist as a figure outside the usual rungs of society. But what makes these films so moving, at least to me, is that they are part of genres in their own right. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Still from Wildhood, part of Queer Vision 2022.<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Wildhood<\/em>, directed by Bretten Hannam, follows Link, a young man living with his abusive and aggressive father and younger half-brother, Travis. He\u2019s always believed his Mi\u2019kmaw mother to be dead but when he scours his father\u2019s room for keys to his truck and an escape route, he discovers a heap of never-received birthday cards that lead to a different journey entirely. Link and Travis thereby set off on what can only be described as a classic road trip, and the movie becomes a scenic masterpiece as the boys become\u202fbigger<\/em>\u202fboys (not men, they still have a lot of growing to do) in search of Link\u2019s mother. They meet Pasmay at a service station, who is the catalyst for Link\u2019s two dominant, but not exclusive story arcs: his coming to terms with his heritage and his acknowledgement of his sexuality. Their love story is beautiful but, as in real life, is a symptom of something greater: Link going on a journey with himself. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

They are queer characters, but they are dimensional<\/strong> <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

What\u202fWildhood<\/em>\u202fdoes so wonderfully is centre queerness within the Road Trip genre; it isn\u2019t treacherous in its portrayal of queer realisation and coming out and it shows that there\u2019s simply more to Link and Pasmay than their growing attraction and love for one another. Link is a substitute father for his little brother. Pasmay is a pow wow dancer, keen to help Link realise that he is stronger in appreciating his roots than denying them. They are queer characters, but they are dimensional and whilst all of the characters suffer some kind of hardship, we see what we would in any Road Trip movie. We see them grow, stretch, and accept themselves scattered amongst wonderful scenic shots of the Mi\u2019kma\u2019ki. The absent mother, appearing at the end, embraces her son, we don\u2019t see her approve or disapprove of Link\u2019s sexuality; she is simply, as she would be in that moment before the dust settles, thrilled to have her son back. The film on a whole encapsulates characters who are more than just queer and the journeys travelled are more than a commentary on sexual awakening.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Still from Girls Girls Girls, part of Queer Vision 2022.<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Director Alli Haapasalo\u2019s chosen genre of choice is Coming of Age, in the best way possible. Original Finnish title being\u202fTyott\u00f6 Tyott\u00f6 Tyott\u00f6<\/em>,\u202fGirls Girls Girls<\/em>\u202fcentres on the lives of three young women who navigate what is to be young, sexually active, and emotional. Best friends, Mimmi and R\u00f6nkk\u00f6 are clearly an \u2018opposites attract\u2019 situation; Mimmi is confident and comfortable with who she is sexually, but is cynical of love and lives in the shadows of her mother\u2019s new marriage and baby brother. R\u00f6nkk\u00f6 is sweet, charming and totally perplexed when it comes to sexual desire; she knows she\u2019s straight, but she has no idea how to get herself aroused when it comes to the act itself. Her exploration of her own desires is fresh and necessary; if I\u2019d watched something like this when I was younger, I\u2019d have figured a lot of stuff out earlier. It also opens doors to conversations about how much sexual intercourse is a necessary part of love and of life, and prods the viewer to remember that love doesn\u2019t require physical proof to be real. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Queerness is there and there is a wonderful safeness about the film, but the girls\u2019 nuanced experiences and identities go further than any term or label<\/strong> <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Mimmi embarks on a whirlwind romance after having an intense connection with Emma, a young ice skater so caught up in the need to be perfect she is missing what it means to be a teen. They connect, and disconnect, and rekindle by the end of the film. Once again, what\u2019s so refreshing about the portrayal of queerness in this film is that Haapasalo has thrown the rule book out of the window: these girls aren\u2019t trialling it. They aren\u2019t confused, or tortured. Sure, they\u2019re stressed and angry and they argue a lot, but that\u2019s because they\u2019re teenagers, not because they\u2019re a victim of bi-panic, or internalised homophobia, or familial rejection. In fact, when Emma\u2019s mother meets Mimmi for the first time, she is overjoyed for no other reason than Emma having someone, in any capacity, outside of her training. Queerness is there and there is a wonderful safeness about the film, but the girls\u2019 nuanced experiences and identities go further than any term or label. They\u2019re girls, some of whom are queer, who are coming to terms with who they are. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I suppose what this article is saying in part, has been stated before; that queerness isn\u2019t just about the\u202fbad<\/em>\u202fbits. But beyond that, I want to watch films where queer people aren\u2019t just about the queer bits. Yes, it\u2019s a huge part of who we are, but we are so much more than that. I want queer teens who are practising for a huge recital, I want queer mafia bosses, I want queer rom com characters and queer super villains and queer witches and wizards. I want all the genres available to us, with us in them, without our involvement being paused at our sexuality or gender identity. \u2018Queer\u2019 is a beautiful term, but it isn\u2019t a genre; it\u2019s not even a sub-genre. It\u2019s certainly a part of what makes us, but it alone is not enough to categorise an entire film- and if it is, the film maker is doing something wrong. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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