In/Operable identity

“Even though older ladies sometimes mistook me for a boy, my eyelashes would eventually give me away.”

I had the pleasure of meeting 22-year-old Portuguese filmmaker Kayl Worska at Man Up at The Cobalt last night. Worksa’s short film In/Operable, which has previously shown in New York City, is a part of this year’s VIFF.

Worksa told me that he spent all his money on a plane ticket to Canada to attend the festival — money he earned selling figs in his front yard. He was also helped financially by friends, and even an ex-girlfriend, who donated money to help get him across the Atlantic. He’s enjoying Vancouver but complained about the isolation of the people. “Everyone is so cold,” he said. “No one shows their love.” He then gave an example of how warm and tactile friends in Portugal are compared to what he’s observed in Vancouver.

Over David Bowie beats, Worska and I talked about the illusion of gender and the theme of his beautiful short film, about realizing “you can transmute the body, but identity is inoperable.”

Keep Reading

A still image of Anne, played by Amybeth McNulty, in braids and a coat, looking at another child in Anne with an E.

Why the adaptation ‘Anne with an E’ speaks to queers and misfits of all kinds

The modern interpretation of Anne of Green Gables reflected queer and gender-diverse people’s lives back at them 
Karla Sofía Gascón as Emilia Perez in Emilia Perez. Gascón wears black with colourful embroidery, has long hair, and a brown purse and delicate chain.

Trans cartel musical ‘Emilia Pérez’ takes maximalist aesthetic to the extreme

REVIEW: The film’s existence raises intriguing questions about appropriate subjects for the playful machinations of French auteurs
Dorothy Allison sits behind a microphone. She has long, light-coloured hair and wears glasses and a patterned button-up shirt.

5 things to know about Dorothy Allison

The lesbian feminist writer passed on Nov. 6

‘Solemates’ is a barefoot stroll through the history of our fetish for feet

Queer historian Adam Zmith’s newest book allows us to dip our toes into the past of a common, yet stigmatized, kink