AS A QUEER FILMMAKER, MY JOURNEY HAS BEEN INTERTWINED WITH THE PURSUIT OF AUTHENTIC REPRESENTATION IN CINEMA, PARTICULARLY FOR TRANS AND QUEER CHARACTERS. I RECOGNIZE THAT AS A WHITE, CISGENDER QUEER MAN, I CARRY A LEVEL OF PRIVILEGE THAT MUST BE ACKNOWLEDGED AND NAVIGATED WITH CARE. MY WORK IS DRIVEN BY A COMMITMENT TO PORTRAYING THE COMPLEXITIES OF QUEER LIVES, ESPECIALLY THOSE OF TRANS WOMEN OF COLOR, WHOSE STORIES HAVE BEEN EITHER ERASED OR DISTORTED IN MAINSTREAM MEDIA.

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CINEMA IS A POWERFUL TOOL FOR VISIBILITY AND EMPOWERMENT, BUT IT HAS ALSO BEEN A SPACE OF EXPLOITATION AND MISREPRESENTATION FOR THE QUEER AND TRANS COMMUNITY. FILMS LIKE TRANSAMERICA (2005) HIGHLIGHT HOW MISGENDERING AND MISAPPROPRIATION PERSIST, EVEN IN WORKS THAT STRIVE FOR INCLUSIVITY. AS A FILMMAKER, I AM ACUTELY AWARE OF THESE PITFALLS. IT IS IMPERATIVE TO AVOID THE HARMFUL TROPES THAT CATER TO THE MALE GAZE RATHER THAN HONOR THE LIVED REALITIES OF TRANS INDIVIDUALS.

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THIS AWARENESS WAS AT THE FOREFRONT WHEN CREATING KITTY, CO-WRITTEN BY BLACK TRANS-FEMALE WRITER EMMY MORGAN. THE FILM FOLLOWS TWO UNHOUSED QUEER TEENS IN ATLANTA—AJ, A WHITE, GAY MORMON BOY, AND BABY GIRL, A BLACK TRANS WOMAN—WHO FORM AN UNLIKELY BUT NECESSARY BOND. THEIR STORY IS NOT JUST ABOUT IDENTITY, BUT ABOUT SURVIVAL, ABOUT NAVIGATING A WORLD THAT HAS ABANDONED THEM. UNLIKE PREVIOUS FILMS THAT HAVE ATTEMPTED TO CAPTURE TRANS NARRATIVES BUT STILL FELL INTO PROBLEMATIC TROPES (TRANSAMERICA, TANGERINE), KITTY AIMS TO ENSURE ITS CHARACTERS ARE FULLY REALIZED—COMPLEX, FLAWED, HUMAN.

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IN THE END, ALL THEY HAVE IS EACH OTHER—AND THAT’S A BLEAK REALITY. MY GOAL IS TO CAPTURE THE FLEETING ESCAPE AJ AND BABY GIRL FIND IN THEIR HIGH, THE TEMPORARY REPRIEVE FROM THE CRUSHING WEIGHT OF THEIR EXISTENCE. AS THE CAMERA SLOWLY PULLS BACK, THEIR SMILES—ONCE FILLED WITH WARMTH AND SHARED UNDERSTANDING—FADE, MIRRORING THE INEVITABLE COMEDOWN. THE STREETLIGHTS CAST A SOFT GLOW OVER THEM, ILLUMINATING NOT JUST THEIR FRIENDSHIP BUT THE HARSH TRUTH: ONCE THE DRUGS WEAR OFF, ALL THAT REMAINS IS EACH OTHER AND THE STREETS THEY CALL HOME.

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AS THE MELANCHOLIC STRAINS OF OMAR APOLLO’S EMPTY DRIFT IN—"FLEW TOO HIGH, CLOUDED MY PEACE OF MIND... YOU LEFT ME EMPTY, HOLLOWED AND EMPTY"—THE SONG UNDERSCORES THE UNRAVELING OF THEIR MOMENTARY ESCAPE. THE ACHING MELODIES AND DISTANT VOCALS ECHO THEIR FADING WARMTH, AS THE HIGH THAT ONCE MADE THEM FEEL INVINCIBLE SLIPS AWAY. UNDER THE DIM STREETLIGHTS, THEIR PRESENCE SEEMS SMALLER, SWALLOWED BY THE VAST, INDIFFERENT NIGHT. NO MATTER HOW MUCH THEY CHASE RELIEF, THE EMPTINESS ALWAYS RETURNS.

 

BRANDON DEYETTE, DIRECTOR