By Adi Berardini
A local gem, The London Lesbian Film Festival is North America’s longest-running lesbian film festival and the only one of its kind in Canada. The festival is not only a full weekend of great film programming, but also includes other events such as a comedy brunch featuring comic and actor Karen Williams, and a dance at the Lamplighter Inn Crystal Ballroom. This year, the festival also had an addition of a free Common Grounds Coffee Meet-up for the sapphic film fanatics who were solo attendees.
The Sunday films featured a longer 96-minute documentary film, Between Goodbyes, directed by Jota Mun, which follows the story of Mieke, a queer adoptee from South Korea, who was adopted by a family in the Netherlands. Mieke’s adoptive family struggled with physical disabilities, and both her father died at a young age and her mother, Willy, passed on, suddenly leaving her an orphan at the age of 14. She went on to live with her aunt and uncle; however, they weren’t prepared to take on a teenager, and she ran away at the age of 16. Mieke speaks about how she found strength and community through the church. She also found her partner, Marit, at a queer café in the Netherlands.
Mieke’s birth mother, Okgyun, felt societal pressure to place her up for adoption at the time, as she lived in poverty and already had three daughters to provide for. South Korea shared slogans at the time, such as “two is enough,” as a means of population control, and as a product of the patriarchy, girls were seen as less valuable than boys. However, Mieke’s birth family was steeped in regret and guilt over the years, and her father, Kwangho, went to great lengths to find her information to contact her as an adult.
When Mieke was 17, she found a letter in Korean addressed to her and was later reunited with her family in a Dutch airport. Mieke explains how she was not quite emotionally ready to reunite with her parents. Her birth mother was eager to touch and hold her, as she was separated immediately at birth, although Mieke was reluctant to this at first. Although Mieke was open to a relationship with her blood family, it took some time to get to know them, and she struggled with the language and cultural differences when visiting Korea after living her life in the Netherlands.
What was most refreshing was that Mieke’s birth family was fully accepting of her. Although she was hesitant at first to come out to them, other than the occasional joke about her hair length being short, Mieke’s family were fully embracing of her and her partner, Marit. In the beginning, they also expressed disappointment that Marit was not on the video call. Mieke’s mother was also upset to miss their upcoming wedding. However, the film follows Mieke and Marit’s traditional Korean wedding in Korea to celebrate. Unfortunately, there was no traditional wedding venue open to hosting a same-sex marriage, but they were able to host the wedding in a photography studio.
The film’s strength is its emotional pull—there were many tears across the room. The love present within their family was radiant. However, with great love comes great grief. Very sadly, after reconnecting with her, Mieke’s sister died in a severe car accident. Although Mieke had just visited Korea for an adoptee conference, she came back after her passing for another 5 days. There was a thread of grief present that weighed heavily on Mieke’s mother, as she had felt a great sense of guilt for giving her daughter up for adoption. There is a touching scene in which Mieke forgives her mother (with the aid of a translator), and their bond is further strengthened. An important theme of the film is the difficulty of reconnecting after lost years of no contact and how this separation deeply affected Mieke’s life, sense of belonging, and identity. The film is successful in raising awareness of the 200,000 Korean adoptees who were part of a disconnected generation.
After a brief break for intermission, the next short film was Joan the Kid, an Australian short directed by Kat Silverosa and Grace Hackney. The film is about the disgruntled genderqueer high schooler, Jo, who faces punishment after wearing pants to her Catholic school’s picture day rather than the prescribed plaid skirt of the uniform. She is given detention and a 1,000-word essay based on a book of saints to write, and the principal insinuates that her scholarship is in jeopardy for breaking the rules. Jo goes to eat lunch in the school washroom and runs into an out-of-place girl, Joan, decked in makeshift chainmail. Joan comes to Jo as a symbol of Joan of Arc, the rebellious saint.
Jo gets into a squabble with her mother after she asks her what happened at school and locks herself in her room. After a somewhat unconventional history lesson from Joan, Jo begins to ask her questions; however, Joan alludes to the fact that she already knows the answer deep down. When Jo later apologizes to her mother, her mother affirms that she was accepting of her no matter what, even if she feels more comfortable wearing pants and supports her gender expression. The next day, Jo walks confidently down the schoolyard hallway in plaid shorts and sword earrings. The film highlights the fact that sometimes breaking antiquated rules is a form of justice in itself.
The second short film, Calamity Jane, follows Jane, a now retired horse rider, who stepped back after a large public fall in the ring and severe injury. She connects with Nayali, who was seeking mentorship to improve her riding. Reluctant and prickly to the idea at first, Jane warms up to the idea and invites her to come to her ranch after Nayali faces a rude and dismissive man doubting her abilities. Although there is a bit of struggle at first, Jane and Nayali form a genuine connection. They get to know each other better, and yes, there’s a pillow fight trope (only with hay bales), which felt a bit contrived. Nayali inspires Jane to get back on the horse and overcome her fear and doubt. Nayali has a secret herself when she is asked for an autograph—she is somewhat of a celebrity under the name of Isabella. Although cliché at times, the film is a strong testament to the power of love and how it can support self-confidence and getting back in the ring.
Lastly, there is the short Solers United, directed by Sara Harrak, which spotlights an independent women’s football (soccer) club at risk of folding in and facing eviction. Two players, Nelly and Bills, face their own challenges in their connection when a new player, Sals, joins the team. Bills grows jealous of Sals, a blonde bombshell who steals Nelly’s attention. While facing the possibility of financial disarray, and after a couple of failed fundraising attempts that left them $200 in debt due to a broken film projector, Sals mentions the idea of practicing to get better and “not suck” at football.
After one of the fundraisers, Bills walks in to see Nelly and Sals getting too cozy for comfort in the bar kitchen. Since Bills feels fondly of Nelly, their game is thrown off, and instead of passing the ball, they attempt to score and keep the ball to themselves at the expense of the team. Nelly and Bills have a conversation afterwards to repair things between them, where Bills discloses their feelings for Nelly. Nelly is understanding and seems open to exploring things further. After their loss of the game, the team is in sad spirits, however, later in the locker room, they hear the news that they’ve moved on to the next round due to the disqualification of the winning team. The ending is left open-ended, but the viewers are left with the hope that Nelly and Bills rekindle the flame in their connection.
Each year, the London Lesbian Film Festival brings high-quality lesbian-focused film programming to London, Ontario, attracting film lovers from afar for a sold-out weekend. I would recommend checking out the film festival to anyone looking to seek out lesbian-centered films and content. Especially when queer film representation has been so scarce and sapphic TV shows are often cancelled, viewing films with the rest of the lesbian community feels quite powerful and moving.