Jay Rohr
Queen Tut is a charming search for community. This lighthearted look at transgender and drag performers isn’t without its serious side. Whether delivered through a jab or a jest, the film produces an array of insights that illuminate a lot of interesting ideas. These reveal humanity’s search for somewhere to belong. Life can be lonely, but not with the right company. Yet, the sad truth is that communities don’t always interconnect.
Nabil Gamil arrives in Toronto following the death of his mother. Somewhat adrift, he encounters Malibu, a Grande Dame of the drag scene. Through her tutelage he hopes to produce some fashion ideas his mother never completed as a way of keeping her legacy alive. However, as he interacts with the various performers at a historic queer bar, Nabil realizes this project is feeding something inside that needs to grow. Unfortunately, amidst all this, his father Iskander is working hard to gentrify the area, and the fabulous establishment widening Nabil’s horizons is on the chopping block.
It’s easy to see the themes of acceptance and the tricky journey that leads to the need to alienate those who won’t be accepting. That said, Queen Tut isn’t simply a queer coming-of-age tale, it’s also about dealing with loss. Community is a connection to a shared history, and the film provides a profoundly plain declaration of the dark past that surrounds the LGBTQ world. The fabulous flash and flare of the drag scene is a celebration of life belying grim events such as bigoted violence, murder, and the AIDS crisis. There’s also an excellent display throughout the film of how hypocritical religious institutions are as they preach community while committing to exclusion. People, places, and family—loss is a multifaceted concept in Queen Tut.
Fortunately, clever commentary dotted throughout the film never gets overly ham-fisted. Whatever black suns Queen Tut eccentrically orbits; it always returns to comedy. For instance, Nabil’s journey comes across as a tale of personal growth and self-discovery. The people there are only around to help with a stumble or share a bit of wisdom. That’s because Queen Tut isn’t about someone being brought into the drag scene. Rather, it’s someone awakening to the fact that’s where they belong. And Queen Tut does a solid job of sprinkling in bits of Nabil’s past to show how society stalled this revelation.
Ryan Ali (The Hummingbird Project) does a wonderful job conveying an awkward, shy individual uncomfortable in their own skin. That would be fine enough, however, the performance includes hints of an awakening that builds to someone boldly embracing their identity. Alexandra Billings (The Connors) is outstanding as Malibu, a woman stepping into the role of drag mother but more importantly taking on the mantel of matriarch left behind by a lost loved one. Her performance is full of casual quips and comic timing some mainstream movies could desperately use but includes the proper pathos when discussing more serious topics.
Surrounding them is a supporting cast composed of lovable outsiders. From spirited drag king Taz De Ville portrayed by Kiriana Stanton (The Expanse) to the beguiling bombast of Sheyoncé played by Thom Allison (Killjoys), the only downside to these individuals is their lack of screen time. It would’ve been nice getting to know these characters a bit better. Still, they solidly serve their purpose here, representing warm individuals trying to stay optimistic in a losing battle.
Threatening them with that defeat is Dani Jazzar as Nabil’s stoic father Iskander. His role is an interesting one since he is dismissive while seeming like someone trapped by social expectations as well. As such Queen Tut manages to touch on notions of toxic masculinity as well as feminism and religious obligation. His coldness and rejection of certain notions rarely comes across as villainous. Rather, he’s a sad byproduct of a world without inclusivity.
Written by Abdul Malik, Bryan Mark, and Kaveh Mohebbi, Queen Tut contains several instances that feel plucked from real life. It isn’t hard to imagine some version of certain scenes actually occurring. Sometimes this can result in a heart squeezing “secondhand embarrassment”, especially as Nabil takes those first shaky steps into the drag scene. More importantly, everything fits together nicely. There’re instances throughout Queen Tut which seem like a simple scene, but which ultimately feed later events.
At risk of spoilers, Nabil overhears drag king Taz De Ville doing makeup tutorials for social media then later uses that same channel to learn how to put on a face. These nods to the internet as a means of giving the lost access to methods of self-expression as well as the history of the LGBTQ population do a great job of showing how times have changed. Cyberspace offers the safe space that bars like the one in Queen Tut used to, while also indicating the importance of physical places in the real world. Most importantly, this comes across without every losing the narrative flow.
It’s easy to read into a lot of what happens on screen. The metaphorical use of clothing abounds showing how it can be freeing or infantilizing depending on context. But director Reem Morsi never lingers on such instances. Instead, she keeps the story flowing from one beat to the next. Although rarely cinematically adventurous, that allows Queen Tut to remain focused on the people in its story.
This is a bright film that touches on some dark notions. However, instead of getting bogged down exploring the bigotry that afflicts the characters at its heart, Queen Tut embraces how its central characters lift one another up. The film is full of charming emotional moments that will squeeze the heart, maybe produce a tear or two, but Queen Tut always comes back to comedy. The off the cuff banter between Alexandra Billings and other performers is worth a watch alone. But there’s also a wonderful story about self-acceptance alongside coming to terms with loss. The fact that’s all done lightheartedly simply makes the movie more fun to watch.
Available on DVD and VOD on June 11, streaming on platforms including AppleTV, Amazon Prime Video, Google Play, VUDU, and more.
