Still Here: Catch Vancouver’s Queer Film Festival Online August 13-23
/Oh my god, is this the death of the festival?
Vancouver Queer Film Festival (VQFF) Artistic Director Anoushka Ratnarajah remembers thinking those words when it became clear there would be no large gatherings in 2020. It wasn’t just the VQFF she was worried about, but what the loss of in-person events would mean for the entire arts sector.
“But I really think that people still look to storytellers and artists and film for comfort and catharsis and distraction and hope and all the things you need during this time, which has been very stressful and uncertain for many of us,” says Ratnarajah.
She and her team have been heartened to see that there is still very much a hunger for queer stories and film. Both festival-goers and filmmakers have shown support for the team’s decision to host the 32-year-old-film festival digitally for the first time.
“In times like these, the importance of art and storytelling is even more apparent,” says Brandon Yan, the executive director of VQFF and Out on Screen Interim. “We must remain committed to being a platform to uplift and celebrate the LGBT2Q+ stories at the margins.”
An Online Gathering Place
Over the years, VQFF has fostered a vibrant and safe space for folks to come together and feel a sense of community through the shared experiences provided by the films. Without the ability to watch it all in the same room, milling about in the lobby afterwards, the team has taken unique measures to help create a sense of togetherness.
For starters, VQFF won’t be operating like a streaming platform. Viewers will have a three-hour time window in which they can start the film, and any time throughout those three hours they can watch it in its entirety. For example, if a film starts at 7:00 p.m. on Monday, you can tune in any time between 7p.m. and 10 p.m. to watch it all the way through.
“My hope is that audience members sitting in their homes with their bubble can imagine other folks in the city or beyond the city doing that as well,” says Ratnarajah. So even though we can’t see each other, we can energetically feel that we’re engaging with each other in that moment and having some semblance of that experience as a collective audience.”
Other programs will also still be accessible online, like workshops and Q&As with the filmmakers, in hopes that people will be able to engage with the work more deeply, ask questions, and get to know the creatives behind the films.
Still Here
VQFF’s theme this year is “Still Here”—a concept that resonates across the diverse lineup of films, all of which collectively deal with themes of resilience, longevity, and inheritance. To Ratnarajah, the filmmakers all seemed to be saying “We’re still alive, we’re still making work, we’re still having important, difficult conversations, we’re still worthy of being on screen. We’re worthy of being celebrated, and of experiencing joy and feeling connected.”
She came up with the theme in January; it wasn’t until March that it became weirdly poetic in the midst of global isolation, and more relevant than ever.
“Still Here” also feels relevant considering the way streaming platforms like Netflix and Crave have revolutionized the way we consume film. Prior to the pandemic, it’s become harder and harder for festivals like VQFF to compete, especially now that queer film has started to make its way into the mainstream.
But Ratnarajah believes the festival will still be relevant in years to come, noting that the progress society makes—be it regarding representation, human rights or politics—can be taken away all too easily. Ratnarajah points to the rise of white nationalism as an example.
“The work we do is so important to build empathetic solidarity for communities across separate identities...because when one domino of human rights falls, the rest will fall.”
Opening Gala: Pier Kids
VQFF opens with Pier Kids, an uncut guerilla-style documentary directed by Elegance Bratton. The film follows queer and trans youth of colour who find a sense of belonging at New York City’s Christopher Street Pier, and centres around Crystal LaBeija, a Black trans woman.
Pier Kids harkens back to 1990 documentary Paris is Burning, while also speaking back to it. Whereas the preceding director Jennie Livingston has been criticized for unfairly compensating her film subjects, Bratton gave the youth in his film a financial share in it—a move that is virtually unheard of in documentary film. Having grown up queer and homeless himself, Bratton has a deep understanding of what the film’s youth are going through, and spent five years building trust with them in the time it took to complete Pier Kids.
Festival attendees will have an opportunity to engage further with the film and delve into the process behind it in a virtual Q&A with Bratton and producer Chester Algernal Gordon.
More Queer Cinema from your Couch
Another notable work this year is VQFF’s Centrepiece Gala film Lingua Franca. Trans Filipina woman Isabel Sandoval stars in the feature film, which she also wrote and directed. Lingua Franca follows protagonist Olivia, an undocumented Filipina trans woman working as a caregiver in Brooklyn in order to earn enough money to pay an American to marry her, ultimately gaining a green card. Olivia’s careful plans are threatened when a potential love interest enters the story, and the realities and intersections of being trans and undocumented rise to the surface.
Pier Kids and Lingua Franca are just two of 61 films that will be showing during the 11-day festival. Among them will also be the work of local, emerging and established talent in VQFF’s recurring program The Coast is Queer. This year the program features eight shorts that cover diverse genres, from fantasy, to experimental, to romance.
Lingua Franca
“With the mainstreaming of so much queer representation and content, I think its important that we still stay true to our love of indie film and support our local film talent, because Vancouver shouldn’t just be seen as a place where American shows come to shoot on location—the film industry needs to also support our filmmakers,” says Ratnarajah.
A Resilient Community
While online streaming platforms have created competition for festivals like the VQFF, perhaps the popularization of staying at home in favour of the movie theatre will prove beneficial this year.
The ease of watching the festival’s films from home will lend itself to a wider audience, becoming accessible to those who previously may not have been able to attend, whether they live in a remote town or have different physical accessibility needs. For some people who may not have a lot of support or solidarity in their community, this could be a new opportunity to engage with queer film and stories that resonate with them.
The queer community is nothing if not resilient—a fact reflected not only in VQFF’s incredible 2020 program, but in the festival itself. Whether it’s politics or a pandemic, challenges may always exist. But they’re still here, and they’re here to stay.
