Review: QUEENDOM [SXSW]
The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.
— Albert Camus
The Camus quote is all I could think of as Gena Marvin strolled down the cold, judgmental streets of Moscow. Well, that’s not totally true. I was also thinking that she looked fabulous and that she was an incredible badass. When we meet her in QUEENDOM, Gena is a performance artist and college student who (amongst other things) designs and wears flamboyantly exceptional outfits while walking about Russian towns populated by bigots who have no patience or comprehension for such artistry. The documentary, from director Agniia Galdanova, chronicles a few years in the life of this defiant figure, using her art form and very existence as a way to protest against the horrible prejudice and inhumane laws of her home country.
Gena’s style of drag is a mix of the feminine and the extraterrestrial, often using high heels and stockings alongside homemade prosthetics and accoutrements that makes for an otherworldly presentation. Intercut between Gena’s daily life and her various sojourns into the public are some of her performances where she uses dance and impressive costumery (or sometimes wearing very little) to communicate the pain, anger, depression, hope, and defiance that wells up inside of her. Not everyone she encounters on the streets or subways of Moscow are hostile to her (many seem bemused or fascinated behind their cell phone cameras), but there’s a very large contingent happy to assault her verbally and even physically as need be. Even though she has the documentary crew and her own team of cohorts to help, there is a constant danger from others (including the police themselves) of immediate and grievous bodily harm. All she wants to do is live, but it feels like the entire country is hellbent on depriving her of even doing that.
Such complicated feelings with one’s homeland is best represented by Gena’s relationship with her grandparents. Born a male and orphaned as a teenager, Gena has a fraught relationship with her elderly caretakers; her grandmother seems generally accepting of Gena’s lifestyle and identity but wishes she would compromise more with others like Gena’s grandfather, who doesn’t understand it at all and is constantly worried about Gena’s economic prospects.
Being from a small fishing village in the north of Russia (think close to Alaska), their provincial lives have not been exposed to much performance art, Queer experiences, or rebellious actions embodied by their grandchild. There is clearly love between them, but the prejudices rear up constantly to cut Gena deeper than any barbed wire gown ever could.
QUEENDOM excels at showing the struggles, sadness, and strength of its subject as she navigate the waters of being an artist and surviving in the practical world—let alone a Queer artist in a country that is increasingly using LGBTQ+ as a scapegoat for horrific laws. The film was made from 2020 to about 2022, which encompasses not just Gena’s life but also major national events unfold in the background…often becoming the foreground as no one is able to avoid the impact. This is made especially true when the main focus is on a political activist that cannot sit quietly by as a pandemic, corruption, and war alter the very face of a country.
Impressively shot, QUEENDOM is able to move between a sort of fly on the wall approach—which is most pronounced during the performances through the neighborhoods, parks, and subways of Moscow, but also there when Gena is out of costume and grappling with her world from the confines of her residences. The interspersed performances are beautifully captured, a rich choreography set to powerful music that pairs spectacularly with Galdanova’s cinematography decisions.
While it’s never been a great time for LGBTQ+ people in the United States, the country is now facing new hateful restrictions and demonizations of drag shows and Queer populations. This makes QUEENDOM even more of a compelling movie, as it’s almost a preview of what those brave artists in Tennessee, Kentucky, Florida, Texas, and other such places will have to undergo and endure in their fight for recognition. And, like Gena, there is no promise for them that it will get better in their own land of the free. QUEENDOM is a wondrous film that is beautiful even in its tragedy, a defiant humanity and stunning artistry that shines through the bullshit heaped on a people whose only crime was existing. But thank god for such rebellious figures as Gena, and ardent filmmakers like Galdanova who capture them; they act like beacons of hope for a world where more people can be absolutely free one day.