Review of documentary: The Stroll

Prior to the viewing of the film we were treated to an excruciating presentation from the BFI Flare programmers. Diverse bunch they were too, the women all being being very young, black and ‘queer’ (if we were to go with our spidey senses alone) and the men being older, white and gay (again, spidey senses).

The outgoing director told us that the festival began 37 years ago and was called (?) Gay Zone Pictures and only nine films were screened, presumably just about gay men. For years it then became a Lesbian and Gay Film Festival, then LGB, then LGBT, until finally now it is an ‘LGBTQIA+’ festival. It is a core part of the BFI’s calendar. She thanked the sponsors, who included Campari, American Airlines (also provides the flights), Mischon de Reya (corporate law firm, I believe they also represent the Southbank in actions), PGIM (investment bank), Interbank LGBT+ Forum (financial staff network group), and special thanks went to FACTSET (data analytics corporate) for being the Festival’s ‘accessibility partner’. Just gives you that warm fuzzy feeling, dunnit?

‘Trans Lives in the Seventies’

The event was part of a theme to celebrate the BBC’s birthday and to take retrospective look at how ‘trans people’ were treated in programming in the 1970s. For once, the person doing the presentation, Marcus Collins, a real historian, had done actual proper research into the film archive.

Unfortunately this didn’t extend into researching the background of his guest speaker, Morgan M. Page, of the notorious cotton ceiling workshop fame.

Review of documentary and short feature at Queer Film and Arts Festival

It started ten minutes later than advertised with people still coming in after the second film had started. No one said anything to the person blatantly recording the screen on their mobile phone. I kept falling asleep during but luckily had a bearded woman in the seat next to me, who generously jumped about in her seat about once a minute, so just enough to stop me nodding off completely. The host of the event, apparently an experienced hand at hosting panels, behaved like a shy little girl and urged everybody to leave the screening for a comfort break once Uyra’s nine minute credit sequence started to roll. We also had a BSL interpreter to sign for the panel plus both films had subtitles with sound description too. Annoying.

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