Review: Here Come the Girls

“Here Come the Girls” is an extraordinary collection of short lesbian films from nine well-known and breakthrough directors from the UK, the USA and Canada. Several of these films are prize-winners and festival favorites, but nearly all of them can brag of polished production values and a riveting narrative. 

Some films deal with feelings that are out of control. In a witty short called “A Soft Place” (dir. Suzanne Guacci) a lesbian and her married straight lover meet up in a laundromat over a soiled duvet in a display of hyper-neurosis on the part of the married woman and super-human patience on the part of the dyke. Director Angela Cheng’s “Wicked Desire” looks at the fraught, emotional impact on families of their kids’ exploration of gender identity and sexuality. The deeply moving “Congratulations Daisy Graham” (dir. Cassandra Nicolaou) grapples with aging, mental illness and physical disease. Like the best short-story writers, in a mere 15 minutes, Nicolaou succeeds in drawing us into the past and present lives of this couple.

Other films deal with violence, whether between “Dani and Alice” (dir. Roberta Munroe) in a disturbingly honest look at abuse inside a lesbian relationship, or unexplained, mysterious violence in “Late,” directed by that dyke household name, Guinevere Turner. A playful boxing match opens “Below the Belt” (dir. Dominique Cardona and Laurie Colbert) in a disappointing film about young lovers that lacks sharp characterization.

The period piece “Private Life” (dir. Abbe Robinson) follows the boss’s secretly cross-dressing daughter as she meets up with one of the comely weavers from her dad’s textile factory. Set in northern England in 1952, it offers us the stealth, fear, police oppression and passion that accompanied queer love in the “homogeneous” 50s.

Sexuality is a strong theme, not the least in a gorgeous tribute to femme lesbians called “Fem,” directed by Inge “Campbell” Blackman, the well-known London filmmaker. (Disclosure: Campbell is an acquaintance.) The film is narrated by Peggy Shaw, the irresistible butch half of the veteran performance duo “Split Britches,” and features a bevy of femme dykes including Lois Weaver, the ever-sexy other half of “Split Britches,” and Cherry Smyth, the Irish poet. “Fem” offers ten minutes of tribute to that uniquely lesbian fem/butch dynamic. The gaze here is butch; the visual luscious femininity. “You love the woman inside the man that I am, even though beside me the closet swings open and there is nowhere to hide.” In contrast to the butch’s risky exposure is the femme’s potential visual assimilation. “And when you are invisible, you become my gender spy, my queer Mata Hari.” By the way, without being a spoiler, I can assure you that the DVD is worth the price of the dripping honey shot.