In the canon of iconic queer films, The Queen has always held a very special status, being one of the first documentaries that explicitly looked into the lives of members of the LGBTQIA+ community. In this instance, Frank Simon was documenting the preparations around the 1967 edition of the Miss All-America Camp Beauty Contest pageant in New York City, one of the major events for drag performers. Many different members of the community flocked from a variety of locations around the United States to stake their claim as the next drag superstar, risking everything they had, including their freedom (as drag was still considered illegal under the stringent laws the forbade cross-dressing), to participate in what was one of the few major platforms where not only queer people would partake in a competition, but also network with a variety of other people in the community, which was especially useful for people of colour, who struggled to have their voice heard even more. Simon, utilizing the approach of telling non-fictional stories through the lens of the participants and subjects themselves (here mainly through the perspective of Jack Doroshow, who performed under the name Flawless Sabrina, and serves as the de facto narrator of this film), establishes a fascinating document on this event, told through the varying stories of the people who came from all around the country, in the hopes of making their name for themselves on what was then one of the biggest stages for a drag performer. It results in a compelling account of not only a fascinating event that has left an indelible impression on ball culture and drag performance, but also a range of historical perspectives on a time in the past where such stories were often obscured by socio-political matters that caused their voices to be deafened by a culture not quite ready to accept this as a legitimate way of life. Simon pulls these stories out of the shadows, and portrays them in vivid detail, in what is undoubtedly one of the most important films on the subject of queer identity ever made.

Films like The Queen seem to have lost some of their lustre in recent years, which is not nearly as negative a concept as it seems – over the past half-century, we’ve seen a slow and gradual ascent of the LGBTQIA+ community from the shadows, where their stories have come to find a place in the entertainment industry, even if not as widely as perhaps they should be. Looking back, we’ve seen many documentaries centred squarely on the community, so it’s easy to lump The Queen in along with these either iconic works of non-fiction filmmaking, especially in how similar it is to arguably the most famous documentary on the subject of drag, Paris is Burning. However, context is important, especially on the topic of discussing how Simon made one of the most revolutionary films of its era – as mentioned above, The Queen was made at a time when a man could still be considered a criminal for wearing female clothing. The Stonewall riots, which kickstarted the modern Pride movement, was a year away, and these stories were simply not being told, at least not on a grand scale, since there was always some degree of fear associated with such exposure. The Queen did significant work to remove the stigma associated with drag performers, changing the perception that it was a kind of sexual perversion or mental deviance, and focusing on its more realistic status as one of the most fascinating forms of artistic expression, as well as a way of asserting one’s gender identity. For a film made over half a century ago, and one that already began to be celebrated at the time by audiences that saw it, The Queen is a monumental achievement, and a vital moment in the history of queer filmmaking, which extends a lot further than most would believe, based on what we know of past perceptions of the community and how their stories were told.

The snapshot, cinema verite style of filmmaking popularized by independent filmmakers in the 1960s worked spectacularly well when it came to telling stories of marginalized communities, which is very much aligned with the underground sensibilities of this side of the film industry. By virtue of the filmmaker removing themselves from the role of the narrator, and instead placing emphasis on the subjects themselves, they’re quite literally putting the direction of the story in their hands, and allowing them to tell their unique stories on their own individual terms. When dealing with queer issues, there’s a lot of merit in the approach of listening rather than guiding the narrative. The Queen may not be entirely perfect in this regard, but it is, at the very least, a considerable step forward. Simon’s interest in the subject was an adequate impetus to the film’s creation, and by placing the focus squarely on a small group of drag queens, each one of them being given the chance to assert their own perceptions and convey their personal anecdotes based on their varying years of experience, we’re given a fascinating and varied account of the issues relating to the queer community. It removes the superficiality of many lesser documentaries that were more intent on sensationalism, rather than truly captivating historical artefacts. The only boundary between the audience and the subjects on screen is time – half a century of shifting mentalities take up that ambigious space between us, which makes the experience of seeing their stories told, since the progress that was made in the years since this documentary was released is staggering. It’s all woven together with such beautiful precision, it’s difficult to imagine anyone, whether a part of the community or just an ally, not being absolutely moved by this captivating portrayal of the trials and tribulations faced by a group of people who are constantly shifted to the side-lines and treated as sub-human, solely based on the contents of their identities and constant desire to express themselves in the way they feel is most necessary and true to who they are.

There’s something so compelling about a filmmaker that was already a member of a side of the industry that was considered vulgar, with underground cinema being far less artistically resonant at the time, at least in terms of the mainstream community that tended to consume more palatable art. Watching The Queen from a modern perspective is interesting, since while the taboo of drag has mainly been broken through an abundance of mainstream representations, whether it be films that glamourize the art of drag, or television reality shows that look deep into the artistry that goes into the process of transforming oneself into another persona. These representations may not be perfect, but still start an important conversation, while still acknowledging that there is still a long way to go, and many of these same issues remaining incredibly resonant today. Drag has changed quite a bit since 1968, both in its presentation, as well as how audiences from outside the community view it – and while The Queen is often imperfect, particularly in how some of the choices made were questionable (Crystal LaBeija, one of the most notable drag performers to ever work is shown as hysterical and petty, rather than her more admirable qualities being portrayed), it’s still a very practical and honest account of a community that has always been on the margins of society in some way. It may be a work of historical relevance in how it documents the past, but The Queen is never dated – many of these same conversations resonate today, to the point where it’s undeniable that Simon made a work that was far ahead of its time. The culture may have changed in many different ways (for better or for worse), but the discourse remains the same, and the general ideas embedded in the fabric of this film continue to resonate years later, which is exactly what makes The Queen such a remarkable film, especially in how it presents an unfettered, honest portrayal of the sub-culture, avoiding stereotypes while still demonstrating the exuberant nature of the community – after all, along with its roots in self-expression, drag is a form of entertainment – it’s who the target audience is that has changed over time.

A small and quaint attempt to capture the backstage drama at a minor beauty pageant suddenly became a sensation, a gripping portrait of queer identity and a steadfast celebration of the art of drag, which is gradually coming to be seen as something far more than just a deviance from the status quo, and more a legitimate form of artistic expression. Taking place in a world that had not experienced the groundbreaking riots at Stonewall, or the advent of the HIV/AIDS crisis that would present itself as one of the most monumental challenges faced by the gay community, the film is an early work of queer representation that shows us an entirely different time that is recent enough to be relatable, but also has sufficient distance for us to see how far this movement has come. Simon crafted an unforgettable account of a particular moment in history, and while his intentions may not have been to create something that would stand the test of time in the way that this did, the final product is a vivid and eccentric portrayal of a community constantly shifted away from the public view, a subculture that had rarely been afforded the opportunity to have their voices elevated to the wider stage. The constant attention to bringing awareness to the issues facing this community throughout this film doesn’t suggest that all these problems have been resolved in recent years, but the rise in visibility afforded by films like this played a substantial role in bringing this to the mainstream, at least in terms of showing that drag is not something to fear, but rather be celebrated – we all perform a particular identity in our everyday lives, and for some people, this entails elaborate costumes, stunning costumes and radically different personas, which are brought to life with such incredible detail in this remarkable film that stands as a landmark of queer cinema, and a vital piece of history, giving us a powerful glimpse into the lives of a group of people who felt most comfortable when they were on stage, living their lives in the way that felt most authentic to them, particularly in a time just before pivotal moments in history.