For decades, Outfest was one of the most prominent and well-respected queer film festivals in the world. But after laying off nearly their entire staff last fall and halting programming, a gap was left in the Los Angeles festival scene and the queer film world at large.
Many have wondered what would fill this gap and some festivals have explicitly tried. But possibly the most exciting replacement is one that’s not aiming to be a replacement at all. Rather than continuing this legacy, it’s beginning one of its own.
Queer Rhapsody, organized by the UCLA Film and & TV archive with lead programming by former Outfest employee Martine McDonald, is not a film festival. It’s a community-based film series. “I don’t want an event to feel like just a screening or just a Q&A,” Martine told me. “I want it to be an invitation to follow a filmmaker’s work throughout the year.”
With hybrid docs about queer Olympians and shorts programs named things like Laughing Through Fire and Queering Memory, Queer Rhapsody aims to be a different kind of film event. But that doesn’t mean the series isn’t still highlighting work recognized by major festivals like The Queen of My Dreams and Desire Lines. There’s a variety — a celebration of many different facets of queer film.
I spoke with Martine about the goals of the series and the fraught (yet hopeful!) state of queer media.
Drew: How did this festival come about?
Martine: Well, we’re calling it a film series, which was to highlight the fact that it’s community driven and not a competition or about any kind of festival framework. And so it really was May (Hong HaDuong) at the archive reaching out to different community partners emphasizing that we need queer film regardless of what institution is hosting it. From there she brought me on and we worked with the programmers. It’s been very organic from how invested and flexible our partners have been to what we’re most passionate about.
Drew: I love that distinction between film series and film festival. You’ve obviously worked with festivals in the past. What do you think can be gained in this format that can sometimes be lost in a festival format?
Martine: One of the things we encouraged in notifying the filmmakers about being selected was not only promoting their own film but other artists they’re passionate about and inspired by. We hope to foster the sense that you’re not in competition with anyone. This is just being in conversation with the community. And also because the archive is the center of it, May and the archive are inviting all of these films to be officially filed in the UCLA Film and TV archive which is the largest in the country. That will be a really nice thing for people in the beginning of their career and for people who are mid-career. It’s a unique part of it.
Drew: How do you feel queer film festivals, film series, and film culture have evolved over the last ten years?
Martine: This is a big question.
Drew: (laughs) I think you’re up for it!
Martine: Here we go. Right now, we have to ask, what is it for? What’s the festival structure for? Is it to maintain or move forward the film industry? Is it Academy qualifying or something like that? I think it’s become more about being on a circuit, being in a community, rather than competition. Sponsorship and all those pieces are a big part of film festivals, but film series are more about public education and public inspiration. And that’s the way I tend to lean even in festival structures.
I think it’s also about being more innovative with what stories you’re willing to share with audiences. Not making assumptions about their capacity to ingest a complex narrative or a more artful, meditative film. But we tried to keep it broad. There are lots of different genres. It’s continuing to evolve and be defined by the audience. You’re not there for the institutional definition of what queer community is or what queer stories are. It’s always in conversation and response to the community as we all evolve.
Drew: You touched on this a bit, but what do you and your programming team look for in queer media?
Martine: May and I sparked this Queer Rhapsody theme. You know, we love a complex drama. We love all interesting, emotionally driven stories. But this was focused on expansive joy. What does rhapsody mean? There’s a film that’s a rageful, vengeance story, but told from a joyful perspective. What are the ways we express ourselves? We really looked for that. And, of course, it’s always such a hard decision. That’s nobody’s favorite meeting when we have to narrow it down. But we really looked for a balance of international films that show voices and talent you don’t typically see in LA, as well as retrospective work like Darby and the Dead. The last four years even, pandemic to now, what have we maybe missed the opportunity to celebrate in community?
I’m most into poetic wonder — that’s my jam. We have folks on the team who are more into dark comedy. A couple more genre-based pieces. It’s also a good mix of documentary. I’d say about half the programming is documentary, particularly hybrid docs. There’s lovely, transcendent storytelling happening.
Drew: What queer work do you feel still gets ignored in the larger conversation?
Martine: Experimental work. That’s something we don’t know where to fit in public conversation. When it’s someone who has typically done narrative or documentary, it’s framed as practice. It’s not their career trajectory. But challenging the audience and even distributors on what can find a wider audience.
And beyond that, maybe this is cliché, but I always want more romcoms. Quality, deeper romcoms. And I think Sisters is really fun and has a unique story about intimate friendship and queer relationships.
Drew: I always want more queer romcoms and want work that fits into this theme of queer rhapsody, but I think a lot of time the work that gets made that’s adjacent to that genre or joyful in some way then lacks — this is so hard to quantify — but lacks a sort of queerness. It’s palatable and I don’t think joy has to be palatable. There’s so much room to have work that still feels of the community but is, you know, fun.
Martine: Definitely. I mean, I love a coming out story, but a lot of the mainstream distribution projects we see right now are still situated there. It’s fun to look for queer voices who are also exploring different aspects of queer life.
Drew: There was this shift from the studios in the 2010s where there were more queer movies and way more queer shows. But then the pandemic happened and the streaming bubble burst. And the first thing to go was the “diversity” — even though that work often makes money. So when I look around I see a generation — and I don’t even mean that in age — of queer filmmakers who had the carrot dangled in front of us to be like this is possible, only for many of those opportunities to disappear. And, as a result, I’m seeing a lot more exciting indie work that’s even better than a lot of what was happening pre-pandemic. I don’t have a lot of faith in the ability to pay one’s rent via filmmaking right now, but I do have a lot of faith in the work that’s getting made on lower budgets.
Martine: Definitely. Our community has always made a way out of no way. So that’s pivotal. I wish it wasn’t at odds with having the structural support we all deserve. But I have seen a lot of submissions that were single room location. And good for you for finding a way to make it happen. I’m biased because I always lean toward indie spaces and programs and creators. And being a programmer I see people in this situation and observe how they’re navigating their career.
Actually, Natalie Jasmine Harris is one of our programmers this year and she’s also an incredible filmmaker. We’re showing two of her films. She is so skillful at navigating the industry.
Drew: She’s amazing.
Martine: It’s been really fun getting her perspective as a filmmaker, a community member, and now as a programmer. What does this system look like? How can it support her work?
Queer Rhapsody runs from July 19-July 28 in Los Angeles.
