Queendom

This documentary felt very relatable (I was born the middle of nowhere in Russia too and have left the country a couple of months before the Situation).

The work is done beautifully and portrays well the life of queer community in the before-war times.

The simple yet very detailed work of producer and, I wouldn't call it acting, of the main character really make a viewer experience each and every moment shown.

One of the most interesting element is the generational conflict between Soviet people and younger generations.

This distinction does exist and, unfortunately, leads to numerous problems and conflicts.

It's a deep-dive each and every human being to experience.

If you are interested in what everyday life is (or was two years ago) like in Putin's Russia, this movie is a goldmine. It's also a must-see for those who care about trans rights or enjoy absurd fashion art. The film features memorable scenes of the protagonist facing conflicts in Moscow and Magadan, a town in the remote, far-eastern part of the country. It provides an intimate portrait of Jenna/Gena Marvin during a turbulent period in their life (and in Russia's history): early 2022, at the start of the Ukrainian war.

However, it feels like the rapid pace of events caught even the creators off guard, forcing them to complete the movie without delving deeper into the story. Gena is portrayed as a loner, mostly seen arguing with their parents (who insist that Gena abandon their lifestyle). Yet, the footage clearly hints at a network of activists and supporters around them, about whom we learn nothing. Additionally, the film doesn't explore the artist's working methods, artistic philosophy, or personal journey in any meaningful detail. Nor does it reveal how they reached their current position or whether they have any plans or visions for the future of Russia.

These shortcomings are especially disappointing because Gena/Jenna is such an awe-inspiring figure. Staying true to oneself is never easy, but when who you are is practically outlawed in your country, it takes extraordinary courage to share it with the world.

I'm sure many people will write about the value of Agniia Galdanova's outstanding documentary about the Russian queer drag performance artist Jenna/Gena Marvin (born Gennadiy Chebotarev), particularly in the light of all the persecution of members of the LGBTQ+ community in Putin's Russia. You can't fail to be impressed by the audacity of some of Gena's protests, videos and stunts, a credit to her but also the vast networks of people involved many of whom fear for their personal safety. However, for me, the cinematography of 'Queendom' is also worth highlighting. The production credits for the film are so slim, it looks like it was shot almost entirely with a phone camera, either by Galdanova or her cinematographer Ruslan Fedotov, which is extraordinary, really, a work of art in itself. Basically, you can make a great film on your phone. Don't get carried away though. Some people point the camera at something and take pictures, but film makers like to get behind what they're looking at and see what's really happening. In the right hands an image conveys deeper meaning. Russians know all about this artform, of course, with their celebrated film industry.

Often it's just a matter of simple technique, like holding a shot slightly longer to give the viewer chance to take in the scene more fully. The bleak long pictures taken in Gena's hometown Magadan, a shipping port way out in the east of Russia, for example, are used as a backdrop for an odd shopping encounter a 'mini' drama that ends in a history lesson about how the town was used a transit centre for political prisoners during the Stalin era. In Moscow where Gena studies, a long walk downtown to Red Square in full costume shows the reactions of people she passes, including military personnel on the Metro etc. Great conversational parts in 'Queendom' fill in the basic storyline and create the narrative of the film, and many of Gena's video posts of wondrous subterranean characters are skillfully woven into the overall fabric. Really, you're witnessing art, you could be at an art gallery. Her expulsion from college in Moscow for attending an anti-Putin protest dressed in a provocative costume with the colours of the Russian Federation is blended with amazing footage of improvized drama. There are surreal moments, too, like the ride on a fairground dressed in shiny bronze foil, followed round by Galdanova a few swings behind, truly inspired.

Too many things to mention. Watch them and you'll see! Credit to the artist, but credit equally to the artistry of the film ... both are consequential and worthy of attention. I'm certain 'Queendom' was edited very skillfully to tell the story the film makers wanted to tell. As one reviewer has pointed out, it may not have been finished due to changing circumstances. For me, that doesn't make it any less important or beautiful to watch, I hope it will get noticed and win lots of awards. Gena now lives in France, hopefully she will be able to monetize her artform. The film is currently available in the UK on BBC iPlayer as part of the 'Storyville' series of featured international documentaries.

"Queendom," directed by Agniia Galdanova, isn't just a documentary about a young queer artist in one of the world's most hostile environments for LGBTQIA+ people. It's a work that beats with the energy of someone turning oppression into performance, fear into strength, and rejection into art. Blending the personal and the political, the film introduces us to Jenna Marvin, an artist whose very existence is an act of revolution.

The strength of "Queendom" lies in how it makes Jenna's struggle viscerally visual. The camera, handled with both delicacy and precision by Galdanova and cinematographer Ruslan Fedotov, captures every intricate detail of Jenna's creations-layers of makeup, improvised materials, and costumes that shift between surreal and provocative. Every close-up of Jenna's eyes, every texture of her outfits, serves not only to dazzle but to remind us that her art is also her shield against the hostility she faces daily.

The documentary's structure feels fluid yet focused, balancing carefully crafted performances with raw glimpses into Jenna's life. When she strides through Moscow's streets in outfits that challenge norms and provoke everything from curious to furious glances, we feel the weight of her bravery. But it's in quieter moments-her interactions with her grandparents in Magadan-that the film reveals a deeper, more poignant vulnerability. This duality-public strength and private fragility-makes Jenna a fascinating figure, both as an artist and as the film's central character.

The performances crafted for the documentary are breathtaking. Jenna doesn't just depict her reality; she reimagines it in ways that provoke thought and stir emotion. In one of the most striking scenes, she emerges from a cocoon of transparent plastic, suffocating symbolically as she fights to break free-a visual scream against the layers of repression surrounding her. These moments are more than artistic-they're declarations of resistance, capturing the spirit of someone who refuses to be erased.

While the film celebrates Jenna's creativity, it never lets us forget the danger she faces. Whether in Moscow, where her work draws disapproving stares and the constant threat of police intervention, or in Magadan, a bleak city scarred by its history as a Soviet gulag, Jenna's safety is never guaranteed. This tension underpins every scene, turning even the most peaceful moments into reminders of how precarious her existence is in a country that criminalizes her very identity.

Despite the heavy subject matter, "Queendom" doesn't slip into melodrama or despair. There's an undeniable vitality in how Galdanova tells Jenna's story, a celebration of her resilience and admiration for her defiance. Even when addressing tough topics like systemic homophobia or complicated family dynamics, the film does so with a sensitivity that allows the nuances of Jenna's experience to shine through.

The relationship with her grandparents is particularly moving. It's an honest portrayal of the love and conflict that arise when traditional values clash with the need for personal freedom. Jenna's grandparents love her but struggle to understand why she's chosen such a dangerous path. Jenna, in turn, loves them deeply but cannot abandon what defines her. This conflict is depicted with such honesty that it's impossible not to be affected.

Above all, "Queendom" is a testament to the courage of creating, existing, and challenging norms in an environment determined to suppress anything different. It's a film that reminds us of art's transformative power and the strength found in simply being who you are, even when the world seems to conspire against you. Galdanova delivers a documentary that doesn't just inform-it inspires, inviting audiences to reflect on the boundaries of resistance and what it means to fight for freedom in all its forms.