Sam H. Freeman & Ng Choon Ping use clothing, lighting, and time of day to expand on the themes of identity, power, sex, and violence in their knotty, unabashedly queer, and sexy thriller, Femme. Their film is Romeo & Juliet if Romeo ditched the party at the Capulets, banged Mercutio in an alley and then tortured them both about his complicated feelings of having a tryst with another guy. Femme is an electric examination of how our fears intermingle with our darkest desires.
Aphrodite Banks is the type of drag queen that commands the stage every moment the spotlight is on her. With her piercing stare and bold strut, you are there to simply hand over your money. She’s totally in charge. When Aphrodite’s alter ego, Jules (Nathan Stewart-Jarrett), leaves the club to snag a pack of cigarettes from the corner shop, a gang of loud, cocky men harass her and follow her out when she makes a snappy retort back at Preston, played with a wily, dangerous glare from George MacKay. “Who’s a big man now,” Preston shouts at Jules repeatedly as he violent attacks her.
For months, Jules barely leaves his apartment, but he does escape to regularly visit a bathhouse where, one night, he spies Preston hastily rebuffing the advances from another guy. The conversations of masculinity and sexual curiosity have long been debated when it comes to “chasing” or catering to the needs of self-proclaimed straight men, but Jules’ own awakening of being turned on by Preston adds an unexpected layer. There are moments where Jules is physically petrified of Preston’s anger, but he keeps going back for more every chance he gets. Should Jules be more ashamed for desiring the person who traumatized him? Or is he better at hiding his revenge agenda while also getting some tattooed, bad boy tail?
Freeman and Ng adapted their BAFTA-nominated short film of the same name, but while that version dealt with more shocking violence and knee-jerk retribution, this feature film leans into more of Jules’ recognition of who Preston is hiding. I imagine that Preston covers his body in tattoos just because he is uncomfortable in his own skin, but MacKay find exceptional depth in a character that could’ve been played with to one anguished one note. Before Jules and Preston really know each other, he takes Jules out to a restaurant and wines and dines him. He says simple things like, “I’m a private person” before then posing, “You want a big man to treat you like a little bitch?” Calling someone a faggot is not a reach for him, and he will not hesitate to take you down if he feels threatened or scared.
Getting to know Preston through MacKay’s skilled performance does not mean that the white, self-identified straight dude is given more weight than Jules. Far from it. Freeman and Ng expand their short to show Jules weighing everything every time he sends his secret side piece a text. Is Jules performing since he has tucked Aphrodite away as he emotionally heals? Would Jules chase Preston if they didn’t have their violent beginning? There is an unbelievably sexy exchange where Jules turns the tables on Preston. Preston is on his knees in an alley and tries an aggressive, dominant side on for size. Jules wears it well. Stewart-Jarrett is fantastic. The directors tighten the conflict with every scene, the score (from Adam Janota Bzowski) scratches at your skin.
Femme embraces its twisted, horny conundrums. We know sometimes that some boys can be bad for us–deadly even. But can our minds and loins make decisions together?
Femme comes to select cities on March 22.
