Too often LGBT+ narratives are presented as a myopic vision of white queerness. From mainstream releases like Love, Simon to celebrated arthouse flicks like Blue Is The Warmest Colour, those who are most readily represented elsewhere — white, middle class, able-bodied people — are the ones most commonly found when it comes to the depiction of queer people on screen. This is painfully ironic considering that QTIPOC (Queer Trans and Intersex People of Colour) — robbed of representation in mainstream narratives — have traditionally been at the vanguard of fashion and culture, playing an indispensable role in developing zeitgeist-defining phenomena such as drag and dance music.
This is the cultural landscape that actor and director Adomako Aman is currently operating in. Best known for Dancing in the Dark — a documentary film about club culture and the role it plays in community-building for queer “blatino” men — the New York creative’s most recent endeavour is short film Fish. It follows two queer men of colour in the Bronx over the duration of two days, as they hang out at each other’s houses, bickering, playfully mocking one another and talking the trials and tribulations of forging a career. It is a tender, heart-warming depiction of queer friendship that explores the nuances of the QTIPOC community within an everyday context. Indeed, like Dancing in the Dark, Aman created Fish as a means of getting to know his community. “Before Dancing in the Dark I felt like I wasn’t really introduced to the community of queer people of colour, so it gave me the opportunity to learn more about it, as well as to learn more about myself,” explains Aman.
Fish was also motivated by repeated failings in the media to adequately portray QTIPOC identity in a sensitive or complex way. “I think there’s an idea of people of colour being very monolithic. There’s one idea of being a queer person of colour and I wanted to show an ordinary experience, a day in the life,” says Aman. As well as directing Fish, Aman also stars in the short film, alongside actors Ronald Hinton and Gavin Maxwell Simmons. Speaking to Maxwell Simmons, he points to the reductive tendencies of a society unaccustomed to seeing well-wrought QTIPOC characters on screens. “People fit you into boxes, like: you look like this, so act like this. What emerges is a dichotomy between your inner self and your outer self and how people perceive this on a daily basis.”
Fish strikes a delicate balance: while it — importantly — speaks to the QTIPOC community to encourage self-love and to explore different facets of identity, it also speaks to white, cisgendered and heterosexual communities — if they are willing to listen, that is. As Aman explains, “It’s just the experience that I’m going through and I hope people can relate to it — for example, a straight person who’s thinking ‘I can’t focus on my artwork, I’ve got bills to pay’”. However, Maxwell Simmons notes that white, heteronormative audiences should also be sensitive to the ways in which the situations depicted in the film are exacerbated through the represented characters’ marginalised identities. “These scenarios or relationships (represented in Fish) are hyper-intensified by the characters’ pigmentation or sexual orientation, so it becomes a very hard landscape to navigate through.”
When we do see QTIPOC narratives, particularly African American stories, they are often tragic in tone, perhaps because the characters have to confront difficult lived experiences. From Moonlight to Dee Rees’ tale of lesbian coming of age, Pariah, films standing at the intersection of queer and BAME identity are often tasked with showing the heightened discrimination that QTIPOC individuals experience in contrast to their white peers. It’s interesting, therefore, to see Aman address these same experiences within what is nevertheless an uplifting short film. “I’m very interested in creating a peaceful project, a project of joy and happiness,” the director says on the importance of positivity. “I want to make people smile and feel things; I don’t want to make people walk out and think that the world is a very sad place. The fact that so many stories about queer people of colour, or people of colour generally, are very sad sends a message that our lives are not valuable. I’m very interested in telling the community I come from that they are beautiful and important.”
"There’s one idea of being a queer person of colour and I wanted to show an ordinary experience, a day in the life."
Aman’s thoughtful and very deliberate approach to QTIPOC representation extends to his casting decisions and to his choice of film crew, many of whom are queer, differing drastically from major media channels looking to cash in on the narratives of marginalised people at a superficial level. Speaking about the necessity to not only feature people of colour and/or queer people in acting ensembles, but also behind the scenes, Maxwell Simmons notes, “When there’s a lack of representation behind the scenes of the demographic that is being represented on screen, the audience is going to pick up on that. They’re going to think, ‘I’m still being passed over. I’m still being looked over. I’m still being dismissed by the status quo because only their view and their interpretation actually matter'”.
However, both Aman and Maxwell Simmons are optimistic about the future, particularly because of the internet’s wide-reaching and democratising power. “It’s great that content can be perceived in a standalone manner as it allows people who may have been turned off by you personally to learn more about your community,” Maxwell Simmons muses. “Yes,” Aman agrees. “And at the same time, creating content on YouTube gives me the opportunity to communicate directly with my community. Some people can’t afford to see shows in theatres, so it’s important that the content is there for free; it’s a vital chance for people to get their voices and their stories heard.”
Fish is now available to watch on YouTube.
Credits:
Photography: Cheril Sanchez. Instagram: @Dulcinea
Creative direction: Adomako Aman
Styling assistant: Gretchen Jean