Throughout our cinema edition, you will meet the successful, the up coming filmmakers already making a name for themselves and members of the animation community. What we have strived to give you is a glimpse into the film community in Oregon, and hopefully inspire some of you to go for your own cinematic dreams if you have them. We will refer to people or the genre with the phrase queer, because that is what is used in the industry. Now…let’s get started…

Our Film History

“In a hundred years of movies, homosexuality has only rarely been depicted on the screen. When it did appear, it was there as something to laugh at, or something to pity. Even something to fear. These were fleeting images, but they were unforgettable and they left a lasting legacy. Hollywood, that great maker of myths, taught straight people what to think about gay people and gay people what think about themselves. No one escaped its influence.”
- Lily Tomlin, Celluloid Closet

To truly understand Oregon’s role in queer cinema, you have to look at the broader history of the art form and homosexuality’s presence there. Throughout U.S. film history, homosexuality was taboo on the silver screen, until the late 1960’s. When we weren’t invisible and did appear onscreen, we were negatively painted.

Because we were bad and immoral, we were put in one of three boxes: Sissy, Killer Queen, or Killer Dyke. Sissies were abundant in the 30’s through the 1960’s, mainly bitchy effeminate males. Killer Queens were in many films; two notables are Hitchcock’s Strangers on a Train and Rope. A killer is scary enough, but make them queer, double the fright. This is still a tool used today, in hit films such as Silence of the Lambs. Killer Dykes are along the same formula, but with lesbians. Basic Instinct comes to mind when conjuring up modern versions of the archetype.

“Not every faggot gets bumped off in the end”
- Boys In The Band, 1970

During sixty plus years of cinema, if not a murder, or a sissy, hints of homosexuality were done very discreetly. To prevent objectional and immoral content appearing on film, the MPAA (Motion Picture Association of America) created the Hayes Code. Though its purpose was to censor any content remotely objectionable, directors found ways around it. As legendary screenwriter Jay Presson Allen explains,

“The guys that ran the code weren’t rocket scientists. They missed much stuff, and if a director was subtle enough and clever enough, they got around it.”

Queer audiences would sit through movies just to catch these glimpses of themselves onscreen. We wanted, hoped to see something onscreen that resembled us. One could argue that this is the perfect example of why no one sees the same movie; we all see what we want to see. A hand in a certain position, or a costume piece that was subtle or flamboyant, a wink or nod, anything to see that we were acknowledged as human beings and we existed.

It wasn’t until the late 70’s and 80’s when we began to see our celluloid fortunes begin to change. A revolution was gathering. We decided to take it upon ourselves to do what Hollywood was doing for us. Film festivals began to crop up, and experimental video and films emerged within the community.

San Francisco’s Frameline Film Festival had it’s first public showing in 1977. The works showed were crude Super8 films, but they were exclusively gay in content. Their mission statement was crystal clear: “to strengthen the diverse lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender community and further its visibility by supporting and promoting a broad array of cultural representations and artistic expression in film, video, and other media arts.” It is now the oldest Gay Film Festival in the world.

New Queer Cinema Emerges

The 80’s came upon us and began to change the landscape further than it had been pushed before. More than twenty years ago, our state became a pivotal piece of history in queer cinema. With pioneers such as Gus Van Sant and Todd Haynes, a movement was brewing, unorganized and unintentional. Across the country a phenomenon, known as New Queer Cinema, began to percolate and prosper among our cinema counterparts.

Gus Van Sant’s Mala Nolche premiered in 1985 and was one of two precursors to the new movement. Bill Sherwood’s Parting Glances followed in 1986, and both films were critically successful in this new genre that was being born. Five years later New Queer Cinema was in full force.

Oregon’s Todd Haynes won the Sundance Grand Jury Award with his film, Poison, in 1991. In this same year, Van Sant’s My Own Private Idaho debuted, along with a slew of other films framed in this history making movement. Tom Kalin’s Swoon would come the following year, along with Gregg Araki’s The Living End, Christopher Munch’s The Hours and Times.

The films of this movement assumed that their audience was queer with no need to explain homosexuality to a straight people or be politically correct. Whether it was through budget constraints or because of ideological reasons, the techniques they used were adopted from gay European directors Pier Pasolini, Rainer Werner Fassbinder, and Werner Shroeter. Using black and white film, including multiple or long interior shots and scenes with very few actors were among the key attributes used for this genre. Most notably, they were unapologetic about their gay subject matter and in a way were defiantly presenting it.

How theses films were made and paid for also played a role in this new movement. Indie films have always had funding issues and this too became part of the creative process of this new model. Many gained funding through private donors or through grants from foundation and arts councils. Ultimately, this is where the fundraising began, foundations built, and to this day funds future queer filmmakers.

Hollywood had successfully put our identity up on the screen and dictated how we were perceived for decades, and now because of sheer determination, we took the reigns ourselves and took control. With two successful directors and numerous films, Oregon cemented its place in history being one of the spark-plugs of where this movement began to take shape and prosper. It is because of this movement that we as a queer audience enjoy the rewards of the hard work and triumph from the Oregon film community and abroad.

Without New Queer Cinema, would we have had our recent breakthroughs? Van Sant’s Milk and Ang Lee’s Brokeback Mountain? Maybe, maybe not. One thing is for certain, we have been fighting our whole lives for our identity and finally…finally we get to see ourselves on screen, as the normal people we are.