A great irony, or paradox, accompanies the opening of the 32nd annual San Francisco International LGBT Film Festival today. This is a moment of unabashed joy in the gay and lesbian community, with the California Supreme Court recently ruling in favor of gay marriage and thousands of couples around the state tying the knot. But queer cinema, like independent film in general, is having a heck of a time finding a theatrical audience. At a time when gays and lesbians are enjoying a smoother road to living satisfying, expressive lives, queer filmmakers are increasingly stymied and frustrated. So is the festival (aka Frameline32) a cause for celebration, or concern?
Rest assured I’m not here to sprinkle on anyone’s parade. From a community standpoint, Frameline32 is an unambiguously self-confident affirmation of LGBT identity. As an artistic event, the festival encompasses every genre of filmmaking, and every corner and side street of queer society, with insight and passion. But it’s hard to ignore the larger forces at work.
In the post-Will & Grace world, the average American is less threatened and more tolerant of gays and lesbians. The other chunk of good news is the affordability of digital moviemaking, which ensures a steady stream of first-time filmmakers. But once a gay or lesbian director has made a couple movies, and is ready to step up to a bigger canvas requiring a bigger budget and top-drawer actors, he or she finds few options. The studios aren’t pushing gay-themed films (excepting the one that’s got Milk), in part because straight audiences got all the exercise they wanted climbing Brokeback Mountain.
The upshot is that queer filmmakers are turning to television to advance their careers. Perhaps it’s not the end of the world, especially with gay and lesbian audiences (like their straight counterparts) increasingly used to watching movies on DVD on that very same screen. Maybe the provocatively written, beautifully produced ensemble series on cable television (which are replete with gay and lesbian characters) have supplanted adult-oriented films in American culture, and cultural commentators like myself should simply stop lamenting the fact that Hollywood has all but ceased making movies for anyone other than teenagers.
I’d love to hear what Michelle Ehlen, the L.A.-based writer, director and star of Butch Jamie has to say about all this. Her endearing and truth-filled no-budget comedy centers on an actress so eager to work (yet shut out of feminine parts by her butchness) that she agrees to pretend to be a man playing a man in an indie film. The movie needs another subplot or two, but the very fact that Ehlen plays her storyline for bemusement and gentle romance rather than anger illustrates how evolved our species has become.