#Framing Agnes

[celluloidrainbow]

FRAMING AGNES (2022) dir. Chase Joynt The pseudonymous Agnes was a pioneering transgender woman who participated in an infamous gender health study conducted at UCLA in the 1960s. Her clever use of the study to gain access to gender-affirming healthcare led to her status as a fascinating and celebrated figure in trans history. This bland fiction and nonfiction utilizes Agnes's story, along with others unearthed in long-shelved case files, to widen the frame through which trans history is viewed. Through a collaborative practice of reimagination, an all-star cast of trans performers, artists, and thinkers take on vividly rendered, impeccably vintage reenactments, bringing to life groundbreaking artifacts of trans history. (link in title)

[queerstuffonscreen]

Framing Agnes (2022)

75 min.

Country: Canada

Genre: Documentary

Language: English

The film explores the concept of the trans icon. It uses a hybrid format, combining scholarly analysis with clips based on archived interviews, filmed with transgender actors.

Watch or rent on Amazon

[moviemosaics]

Framing Agnes

directed by Chase Joynt, 2022

[wetgeliscasualinterval]

Jane B. par Agnès V. (1988)

[silvoldoy]

I did the Akira bike slide but with Agnes's cool freaking motorbike from that one adorable little "Training Wheels" short

Bonus gif:

[escapismthroughfilm]

⋆˚｡⋆ ⋆˚｡⋆⋆˚｡⋆Le Bonheur (1965) dir. Agnès Varda⋆˚｡⋆ ⋆˚｡⋆⋆˚｡

[isleofair]

Cool frames, part 6

(Bonus: a two-for-one on absolute queens)

[lillotte17]

So, at one point after the season 1 release there was a post floating around somewhere with this idea that Crowley wrote Aziraphale letters and hid them in various books in his shop. I don't know how plausible that idea is, but I thought it was extremely cute, regardless. So, I wrote one of the letters!

It's just been hanging out on my computer for ages because I didn't know what to do with it. It's not really a fic. And I never feel like I get his voice quite right. BUT I still like it, so here you go. <3

~~

A,

You know that I am not very good with words. Well. Generally speaking, anyway. I wouldn't be even halfway decent at my job if I couldn't sell a line or two, but it turns out that it is much easier to talk someone else into going for something that part of them already wants deep down than it is to admit things that we might want for ourselves. Funny, that. 

At any rate, my point is that I am not going to sit here and write you a sonnet or something. Wouldn't even know how to go about it, truth be told. But I know that you seem to enjoy words, especially written ones, since you've set yourself up to be surrounded by them almost constantly, so I thought that this might be easier for both of us.

It doesn't feel easier.  

I understand why you didn’t want to help me the other day, really, I do. But you didn't even give me a chance to explain why I asked, so I'm asking you to listen now. Well…you know, read. Can't really listen to a letter, can you? Not yet, anyway. Who knows what humans will think of next.

From the moment we met, you have always been…something different. Something I didn't expect. In mostly good ways, though I suppose you can't help that. I think I was just curious to start with. Wanted to see what would happen if I poked at you a bit. I didn't expect you to be so…well. You.

We came to an understanding, and I told myself it was just business. Business and lunches. Business and lunches and the odd night out on the town. For someone who lies as much as I do, you'd think I'd be better at lying to myself. Sometimes I wish I was.

I've had a sneaking suspicion that I might actually like you for a frankly embarrassing amount of time, but it had only occurred to me recently that I am... we might…

I don't want things to change.

It's precarious to leave things the way they are, I know that. The people I work for are not known for their forgiveness, and yours have been known for dealing out their fair share of wroth as well. But I used to think that if things went south, I could just talk my way out of it and then avoid you however long until things died down again. I'm an optimist, you know.

But I don't want to avoid you. And our dealings have stepped beyond the scope of plausible deniability at this point. And if they come for me over that… I'm not sure what will happen. Nothing good, though, I'm certain. Maybe they’d kill me, maybe they wouldn’t. Hard to say which would be worse, really.  But I thought, if you helped me, I could put together a sort of fail-safe. Just something to give us me enough time to come up with a plan of action. Find a place to hide. Run off somewhere.

You could come with me. If you wanted.

I know you wouldn’t want to go now, of course. It’d be too big a change. Breaking all sorts of rules. I wouldn’t mind, though. Never did mind too much about breaking rules, as you so often like to remind me.

It’s just… I think you might be the only being in this whole cosmos that I’ve actually managed to make happy. A few times, anyway. Maybe. At least, you seem happy. Most of the time. When we aren’t having a row.

It was a shocking revelation; I can tell you. To imagine that I’d be any sort of good for someone. And that I might even enjoy being 'good' for someone.  It’s sort of nice though. And terrifying. And frustrating. I wasn’t really sure I was capable of this sort of thing. At least, not anymore. Maybe I never was. Maybe that’s why I ended up working the sort of job I’ve got.

The world is full of so many soft words for soft emotions and soft people. Bright ephemeral things. I can’t say they don’t suit you, but they aren’t enough either. Well, maybe ‘enough’ isn’t the word for it. They just…don’t fit exactly right. And how could they? Man can hardly conceive of a word for something that he has little no understanding of. Bet you thought I’d say it was ineffable.  I am not a good messenger for that sort of expression, regardless. Bit outside my wheelhouse.  Just the sort of thing I’d cock up, really.

Look, I don’t really know where to go with any of this. I can’t even fathom a reason why things might change between us. Well, I can, but none of the changes would be good. I only know that, as of right now, you are my best and oldest friend. Perhaps my only friend. And maybe that’s a small thing to most people. But not to me. To me it’s everything.

You’re everything.

But I can see now just how easy it would be for all of it to go wrong. And maybe a smarter person would take that as a sign to cut ties and move on to better things. Keep things safe and simple. Black and white. And maybe you should. I’m selfish, though, which I’m sure you’ve worked out already. And well… 

It’d be an awfully lonely world without you. 

Yours.

[hearditinapastlife2019]

my room is soooo depressing now that all of my stuff is packed away for the move i just can’t wait for move in day!! i can’t wait to live in a nice space again especially with my partner

[bubaboos]

showing a taemin album to my priest uncle like "so this is my jesus"

[haniawritesthings]

Watched two documentaries today and I'm feeling some kind of way about queer history. Just all queer people dead and alive I love you and you're family <3

Anyways I recognize the irony in watching these documentaries as a way to procrastinate writing my HISTORY essay I am writing for my HISTORY degree

[a-bee-wizard]

my Things have gotten worse since we last spoke hot take is that zoe is kiiiind of an asshole but legally she did nothing wrong

[wetgeliscasualinterval]

L'une chante, l'autre pas (1977) by Agnès Varda

[sassydefendorflower]

Not me scrolling through the Conclave tag only to see no one talk about the deliberate positioning and framing of the women in this movie.

Pulling up this movie I completely expected to only encounter Sister Agnes as the one woman we see in the trailer, the conclave a space that has been kept from the female members of the church. Now, color me surprised when I started the movie and most of the establishing shots we got were focused on all the women working in the Vatican.

And it is such a deliberate choice, it does the film a disservice not to talk about it.

Because while Cardinal Lawrence is having his fifteenth breakdown during sequestering and Bellini finds the ambitious asshole within himself, Ray does all the leg work, and Bel---- we see the women work.

We see the kitchens, we see them cook, we see them stand aside. Most of the time when the Cardinals are conspiring it is the women who interrupt because they are busy working, walking, running errands.

And there is power in that.

I think it is very deliberate how often (and with such lingering gaze) the camera shows us the lives of the other half - partially to connect to the wider themes of the movie, on how Bellini asks for women to get more power but never thanks them, and how Benitez stumps them all by thanking the women preparing their meals when asked to say the prayer (considering his own probably tumultuous relationship to gender within the church).

But it also stands in direct opposition to a long tradition in story telling: servants don't exist. How often the heroes of a regency romance are "alone" because the two hand maidens and three maids don't really count.

Conclave doesn't do that.

It doesn't let us look away.

Between all the petty drama, the politics, and the real life consequences of the conclave, we never stop looking at the people doing all the work.

Yes, we follow the ups and downs of Lawrence and Co, but in doing so the movie reminds us again and again of the women working the kitchen.

And that was just such a powerful artistic choice in a movie about a famously misogynistic church... I loved it. And I had to talk about it.