An unexpected delivery, an absurd first date, missing invitations, a harrowing quest for justice, and a genre hopping actress. ‘Unravel’ is a programme full of twists designed to make for some uncomfortable viewing as the stories untangle. So, watch in awe as these five short films take you on a journey of queer depravity and loss. Prepare for captivation.
Can queerness ever be unravelled? We spoke to some of the filmmakers to get their opinion
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Hot Young Geek Seeks Blood Sucking Freak – Heath Virgoe
How does the protagonist’s identity unravel throughout the short film?
The trouble of Hot Young Geek Seeks Blood-Sucking Freak comes about because Max, its protagonist, has been lying to himself - for days, for months, for years. He’s been living with this urge, this impulse in his heart for an eternity, and when he thinks that he can relieve the pressure by letting just a little bit of it out into the world, he quickly finds that he can’t plug that hole back up. The fact is that he’s trans - deep in his heart he knows that he’s not a man, doesn’t want to be a man, and the fear and shame and sheer embarrassment of that fact has been eating away at him for his entire life. So when he thinks he’s found a ‘safe’ outlet for this desire (writing The Twilight Saga online roleplay as a glamorous female vamp(ire)), he’s overjoyed - until an incel vampire mistakes him for a catfish and swears bloody vengeance upon him. The internet, eh? As the vampiric menace looms, and Max has to turn to his best friend and flatmate Ricky for help, he not only discovers that he can’t recork that bottle, but that letting it out, sharing with others, and admitting the truth to yourself might just save your life - and maybe, just maybe, make you happy.
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Were there any creative or emotional challenges in having a character who was not open about their gender whilst simultaneously figuring it out?
As someone who is fully prepared to admit the autobiographical nature of this story - though my own coming-out tale had werewolves instead of vampires (Hot Young Geek 2 coming as soon as someone gives us funding) - I can say that the challenge was much more in living the experience of not being open about my gender while simultaneously figuring out. Adapting it was a lot easier! I think a lot of people around me might think otherwise, but for much of my life I’ve been quite a secretive person - which stemmed largely from the fact that I always had this shameful little secret at the centre of me, a secret which I had to hide away for fear of it ever being discovered: that I wanted to be a girl. Even now it’s hard not to feel hideously embarrassed by this fact, like a freak or a pervert or like I came out wrong - and I felt it was important that these feelings be shown in Max: the not being able to meet others’ gaze, the constant self-questioning and anxiety, the fear of some kind of karmic punishment. Was reliving these feelings by bringing them up on as public a stage as a film set a challenge? Yes - but more than that it was cathartic, and healing, thanks to the phenomenal cast and crew who never questioned my identity for a second and instead embraced it.
What’s something your film allowed you to let go of - or unravel - in yourself?
I think in a lot of ways making this film was kind of an exorcism of the anxious and self-deprecating thoughts and feelings inside me, and in some ways a sign of moving forward into the future. This was the first film I’ve made under my chosen name, fully, truly out as queer and non-binary to the world, with queer friends and loving allies on the cast and crew all totally willing to bring my version of reality to life. By depicting what the closeted queer experience of my teens and early-twenties felt like, as this ridiculous heightened comedy about vampires and pizza and delivery drivers and Taylor Swift, it was really the ultimate version of when you think back to a hideously embarrassing awful memory from years ago - and just laugh at it. I’m trans. I grew up feeling like I would never belong anywhere unless I repressed it and kept it buried deep within myself until it went away for good. Now it’s grown, and I’ve grown with it. People love me, for it, or without even considering it. Isn’t life funny?
Find more about the film: Hot Young Geek Seeks Blood Sucking Freak
Sleazy Tiger – James Ley
How does your short film explore the theme of depravity?
I think Alan in Sleazy Tiger is afraid of his own sexuality and desire at the start of the film and by the end he has confronted that fear, realising it's not scary and a lot of it is just in his head. So, I guess it explores depravity in terms of, there's nothing to be afraid of in our depravity and we can own it and keep the things we want to get and rid of the things we don't.
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What would you say to anyone who feels trapped in this idea of "horny hell"?
I would say that the only way out is through and to keep going and to find your truth and whether that means you like cake sitting or holding hands and gazing at the person who just gave you a jar of homemade kimchi, it's entirely up to you. And also you can do both. And you can change. The only constant in life is change.
What’s something your film allowed you to let go of — or unravel — in yourself?
I'm lucky that things that have held me back in life, I'm able to let go of through my art. It's a wonderful thing to be able to share funny, dark, strange, crazy ideas with people and for them to get them. That's surprised me constantly in making art and making Sleazy Tiger. I'm so excited to share it with a wide audience for that reason. I find that really affirming and I think that art is a great safe space for self-exploration.
Find more about the film: Sleazy Tiger
Blackout – Chris Urch
This programme is focused on ideas that may make viewers uncomfortable, how do you accomplish this?
Our film intentionally presents a realistically comfortable setting; there is danger but it’s outside and our character has a choice in whether to engage with it or not. This all builds to the film's ultimate intention; to present something that we rarely talk about within queer relationships which in itself is deeply discomforting.
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And do you think in the context of queer film this is important?
Yes, it's extremely important because it's truly humanising. It's important that the full spectrum of our experiences can be presented in order for healing and growth and catharsis.
What’s something your film allowed you to let go of — or unravel — in yourself?
As a filmmaker and producer, I consider it the ultimate privilege to create work that speaks to my own experiences or serves as an acknowledgment of someone else’s. When it comes to queer identity, there’s a risk of leaning toward idealism; crafting characters and stories only in opposition to the narratives others have imposed on us. With this film, we’ve made something by us and for us, a work that exists on its own terms rather than engaging in a conversation defined by how people outside the experience choose to see us.
Find more about the film: Blackout
Demons – Emmanuel Imani
What compelled you to tell this story, was there a specific moment you can remember?
Back in 2021, a friend of mine sent me a Grindr article where men were speaking about their unfortunate and life-threatening experiences on Grindr in Africa. I knew I wanted to make a short film, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say. After reading these articles for the umpteenth time and speaking to some Nigeria based queer friends; I decided I’d use my voice, my film, to say something honest about being a multi-hyphenate queer.
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How does British Nigerian identity unravel under systems of pressure and external force?
It doesn’t necessarily unravel; it splits but remains very much active. Different mindsets kick in when faced with niche danger-based situations. Being queer in Nigeria is a grave sin, but that sin doesn’t seem to apply to the wealthy or foreigners - which is where being British comes into play as a saving grace. You hear everything. You don’t see everything because you have a privilege, and yet you somehow feel everything.
What’s something your film allowed you to let go of — or unravel — in yourself?
Being queer in public. I was fortunate enough to play the lead in Demons and in doing so, I first hand experienced the lead character’s bravery. Experiencing the character walk around in leather & lace, hug & kiss their boyfriend in public, sing/wail for their loved one - it was inspiring to say the least. I felt empowered to live my own truth. Publicly. Unapologetically. Always.
Find more about the film: Demons
Bury your Gays – Charlotte Cooper
Do you remember a time where the ‘bury your gays’ trope profoundly upset you and what you were watching?
For me, the first time it happened was when Tara died in Buffy. It was the first time I had seen a lesbian couple on a mainstream TV series, with Willow and Tara being a rare example of lesbians in media at the time. Tara died senselessly as part of a “freak accident” the moment the two of them finally got back together and it looked like they might get their happy ever after. Of course, it was not to be. The more recent upset was Villanelle’s death in Killing Eve (sorry spoilers!). Her death, coming right when she and Eve finally seemed to be “together” (as toxic as their relationship may have been), was when my wife and I started discussing the trope and how interesting it would be to call it out and turn it on its head in a script.
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Do you believe representations of queer people are changing in mainstream media, or are they still often pigeon-holed?
I think queer representation has come a long way, but it’s still stuck in many of the same patterns. There are definitely more queer characters now than when I first saw Willow and Tara in my early teens, or when I fell for Piper in Lost and Delirious—or worse, got whiplash from Kissing Jessica Stein. But quantity doesn’t always mean quality. Too often, queer characters are still sidekicks, the comic relief, “phases” to be grown out of, over-sexualised, or defined solely by their queerness, rather than being fully fleshed-out people with complex arcs. Queer joy on screen still feels like a fleeting scene before someone snatches it away.
I also think it’s important to be aware of the diminishing rights of the queer community around the world. Growing up, I assumed things would only get better, but now there are loud whispers in America about overturning gay marriage, and here at home it feels like our government is no longer advocating for our rights. Will we start to see a regression of our progress on screen? We need to keep pushing - now more than ever.
What’s something your film allowed you to let go of — or unravel — in yourself?
I grew up in the competitive world of ballet, which didn’t attract many young girls questioning their sexuality - at least not in my dance community. I turned to film and TV, seeking queer characters to help make sense of the feelings I was having. If there was a lesbian character in a TV show, I would become obsessed, rewatching their scenes over and over (we all saw that episode of Skins with Emily and Naomi in the forest, right? Or Sugar Rush - hello!). But the media’s obsession with miserable queer characters - especially those “punished” by death - was a huge factor in my decision to push down my feelings. I didn’t come out until my early twenties, forcing myself through some pretty awkward straight relationships. We were being taught that being gay meant shame. Making Bury Your Gays gave me the chance to confront that. Researching the trope and understanding its origins in censorship laws and the Hays Code allowed me to work through the pain and isolation I felt as a teenager - and to feel catharsis in calling it out. By exposing this cliché and explaining why it happens in my film, I hope teens/allies/ANYONE can see that the shame portrayed on TV is not authentic, but an outdated narrative device, and should NEVER shape the way they feel about themselves.
Find More about the film: Bury Your Gays
