With Femme, Sam H. Freeman and Ng Choon Ping prove themselves as a directing duo to be reckoned with. In their neo-noir thriller about revenge that stars gay characters, the filmmakers (both of whom are making their feature directorial debuts) are going into uncharted territory and in doing so give hope for a bright future filled with exciting movies from the LGBTQ+ community. This film does more than just queering a beloved genre though; it also serves as an astute commentary on identity which is always changing: consciously or subconsciously; publicly or privately; straight or queer.
Femme opens in present-day East London’s nightlife. Jules (Nathan Stewart-Jarrett) is a drag queen named Aphrodite who goes to a convenience store for cigarettes after finishing his set one night at club down the street. There, Preston (George MacKay) and his belligerent friends are hanging out too. Preston doesn’t hide how much he hates gay people when he sees them so visibly shook up like Jules who stands up for himself despite this fact only making things worse by running away scared down dark streets where Preston follows him and beats him up badly.
Several months later, Jules — still clearly traumatized from what happened — ventures outside of his apartment again eventually deciding to try going to a gay sauna not necessarily with intention of hooking up but rather because it seems like safe place where nobody would know him there anyway. However, it turns out that while sitting across from Preston who doesn’t recognize him out of drag at all either Jules realizes that this could actually provide opportunity: if were able gain access into house under false pretenses then record encounter without person’s knowledge then show video recording back later reveal true self thereby outing them forever before finally killing them off afterwards once having told world what they did – thus serving justice upon those who deserve such treatment most vile!
Structurally and story-wise, Femme is a cat-and-mouse thriller that keeps changing its form. At first we think Jules wants revenge (hence the secret recording), but then why does he keep meeting with Preston? As they spend more time together and get know one another better, things become less clear – whether it’s about predator versus prey dynamic or two young people falling in love.
Stewart-Jarrett and MacKay are perfect for these roles. Jules is like a chameleon who can change colors depending on where he is or who he’s with; for instance, when around Preston, Jules acts submissive whereas if were around friends would act tough or “one of guys” type stuff. So every different version of him that Stewart-Jarrett plays feels magnetic underneath which makes sense why Preston finds himself unable to resist any such person. Then again during some parts MacKay becomes very scary because those moments show us how unpredictable/volatile Preston could be while also enjoying showing other sides where softer/vulnerable parts come out too
Imperfectly perfect and living in grayness, these characters are the strings that bind Femme together. In addition to this, Adam Janota Bzowski creates a chilling score that mumbles dread, underscoring how much is at stake every time Jules meets with Preston. However, James Rhodes’ cinematography is wonderfully intimate and twists the knife back — it never lets us forget how badly Jules can hurt Preston or how rough they can be with each other.
The most fascinating thing about Femme is its refusal to give us easy answers; it keeps us guessing right up until the end. Indeed, Freeman and Ng do an excellent job of making sure we feel as close to Preston’s perspective as we do Jules’. (In one of the film’s biggest moments — without giving too much away — Preston sits on a staircase smoking a cigarette. It is not out of character for him, but it feels like the first time we have ever seen him.) The movie asks us to let go of our binary thinking; this isn’t a story about good vs evil, hero vs villain or victim vs perpetrator.
Femme could only have been made with queer characters; it works because it’s gay. The film’s inherent queering of tradition speaks to queer existence itself: they don’t play by those rules and they refuse to be what people want them to be. It may be too soon to call Freeman and Ng LGBTQ+ trailblazers within the industry, but their debut feature shows them as unique voices in cinema. I can’t wait for what they unsettle next.
