In the current landscape of queer cinema and television (episodic streaming being the dominant form of narrative storytelling now), what defines something as aesthetically or narratively queer in film has become less clear. As writer’s rooms adamantly hammer out similar identity-politics-driven work without giving much thought to why that work exists, it’s important to acknowledge what queer cinema actually is and where it came from.
Although there have been some great films and television works in the past decades that could all be loosely termed queer, for Pride month I wanted to shine a light on the groundbreaking essay that coined the term ‘new queer cinema’ in the early 1990s, and the filmmakers (many still working today) who spearheaded that queer cinema movement – creating many of the tropes and aesthetics that are beloved in the genre.
It was a moment that can now be viewed as a turning point
Today, it feels like everything is over-saturated with identity politics, and artistic value is being sacrificed. But there was a time when the queer movement in cinema was totally new and created some great filmic work. In the early 90s, there was a substantial boom in gay and lesbian films in a short span of time, but it wasn’t initially termed ‘queer’. It’s interesting to consider that now, over 30 years later, as the word queer is everywhere and one that many identify with.
Back then, the term could be found more within academic circles. It entered the wider cultural lexicon when the phrase ‘new queer cinema’ was coined in 1992 by the critic B. Ruby Rich in a seminal essay for Sight and Sound magazine. Rich’s essay was groundbreaking in its full breakdown of the film and video art that was reshaping and broadening the gay and lesbian filmmaking scene. It was a moment that can now be viewed as a turning point, both aesthetically and politically, and Rich’s essay propelled this loose but distinctive movement and the filmmakers that came from it.
“Of course, the new queer films and videos aren’t all the same, and don’t share a single aesthetic vocabulary or strategy or concern,” wrote Rick. “Yet they are nonetheless united by a common style. Call it ‘Homo Porno’: there are traces in all of them of appropriation and pastiche, irony, as well as a reworking of history with social constructionism very much in mind. Definitively breaking with older humanist approaches and the films and tapes that accompanied identity politics, these works are irreverent, energetic, alternately minimalist and excessive. Above all, they’re full of pleasure. “They’re here, they’re queer, get hip to them.”
They are nonetheless united by a common style
Of course, queer cinema existed before she wrote about it. Some notable examples (and there are so many!) are lesbian avant-garde video artists like Sadie Benning and Cecilia Dougherty, the transgressive 1969 Funeral Parade of Roses out of Japan and Andy Warhol’s Factory films. But the 90s were a time when the festival circuit met distribution viability, and a whole new wave of filmmakers began to create work that changed the landscape and reached a wider audience.
Among the key filmmakers who defined the era were Derek Jarman, Gregg Araki, Gus Van Sant and Todd Haynes. If you’re looking for films from the dawn of new queer cinema that are essential viewing, this is where to start. There’s also the 1990 documentary Paris Is Burning by Jennie Livingston. Told with such an economy, this beautiful film follows the queer community in New York’s ball culture. Or, try Rose Troche’s 1994 Go Fish, which was one of the first films to portray lesbian relationships in a realistic and positive light, Gregg Araki’s 1992 The Living End or Todd Haynes’ 1991 Poison.
Today, when every Netflix show is concerned with value signalling and representation is held over artistic value or character study, one might ask whether we’ve diluted the artistic value. If you’re looking to get back to the power of new queer cinema, these origin films are worth checking out.
