GLQ: A Journal of Lesbian and Gay Studies

As editor in chief of Fugues since 1994, I was responsible for transforming the Montreal "guide" into a monthly news magazine. From 1993 to 1999, I was involved in organizing Image + Nation, the Montreal gay and lesbian festival, and in 1995 (with René Lavoie) our first AIDS film festival. I have also made short films and for seven years wrote criticism for the film magazine 24 Images.

I do not consider my writings on gay film for Fugues a critical activity. I engaged in more demanding writing for the cinephile reader only for the bimonthly 24 Images. In fact, apart from the specialized film magazines, it is rare to find real film criticism. Most of the time journalists limit themselves to offering personal impressions and synopses. That said, I do not mean to say that my current comments on films are not occasionally critical, but I have space only to describe and comment rather than to situate works within aesthetic currents or unfolding film historical contexts.

For many years, LGBTQ festivals were the rare places where one could see gay-themed films. For me as a journalist and as a gay man, this was important in itself, regardless of the quality of the films shown. Over the years, as the general quality of films shown at LGBTQ festivals has greatly improved (an industry has been born; LGBTQ themes interest more and more filmmakers), it has become easier to evaluate these works on the same level as others, although the LGBTQ dimension deserves a distinctive approach, at least in a gay publication.

Some could say that at the start of the 1990s I showed a certain leniency for films whose main interest was their open concern with gay questions. It was in general a transitional period that was to lead to the maturity of a genre that is now fulfilled. The role of film critics in the process of consumer choices within traditional cinema was relatively small in comparison to the marketing onslaught of the major studios. But as far as gay cinema and LGBTQ festivals go, journalists and critics remain an essential element in the promotion of films—even if this is not their raison d'être—that only rarely benefit from major promotional campaigns.

Since their emergence in the 1980s, LGBTQ festivals have paved the way for a distribution network for films that would not have been seen otherwise. They also offer a rich and intense testimony, composed of experiences lived on the inside, and propose a point of view rarely found within dominant culture. Despite [End Page 603] the fact that the "Gay Nineties" finally succeeded in bringing gays and lesbians together on the big and small screen, here and elsewhere festivals still offer a unique chance for gays and lesbians to immerse themselves in their own cultures and reflect on future directions for their communities, their histories, their sexualities. In retrospect, the support offered to young artists was one of the most interesting aspects of these festivals. Through showing short and experimental works, they have given the public the chance to follow many directors. This is the case notably for John Greyson (Zero Patience, Canada, 1993), Cheryl Dunye (The Watermelon Woman, United States, 1996), Rose Troche (Go Fish, United States, 1994), François Ozon (Sitcom, France, 1998), and the Québécois director Denis Langlois (L'Escorte, Canada, 1996), whose works have punctuated the history of these festivals.

Since its beginning, Image + Nation has offered the Montreal LGBTQ community a unique chance to confront international realities. And even in a market where all of the dozen or so festivals in Montreal now present LGBTQ films, Image + Nation grasps the originality of independent production and the vitality of queer culture in a unique way. It is really an event that allows Montreal lesbians and gays, as well as all cinephiles, to broach through fiction or documentary such subjects as sexuality, issues around race and minorities, current social dynamics, or aspects of AIDS.

In this city of festivals, most of which are subsidized in one way or another by cultural institutions, Image + Nation has succeeded in surviving without any significant financial aid. This lack of funding is not due to a desire for political independence but results from the rampant bias within agencies that still refuse to recognize the contribution of gay and lesbian culture to the mainstream (seeing it mostly as a ghetto festival). Despite constant financial pressure, Image + Nation has stayed afloat for more than a decade and operates on almost nothing. All the same, this "nothing" owes a lot to the generous support of many lesbian and gay associations and businesses and to the ongoing efforts of hundreds of volunteers.

The diffusion of gay and lesbian culture is essential to developing a collective awareness, and this also has important benefits for the acceptance of gays and lesbians by the population at large. This is why it is essential for such a unifying event to take place.

Still, the organization of a film festival has become onerous. The cost of theater rentals as well as shipping fees and exhibition rights have greatly increased, and it is legitimate to ask ourselves what future awaits these festivals. Will they disappear one by one, as women's film festivals did before them? The disappearance of several festivals in the last three years (including Ottawa's) seems to indicate [End Page 604] that small- and medium-sized festivals will find themselves compelled to present only a small selection of films that will attract the public and to drop exploratory programming or retrospectives (especially with old films now available on DVD). Only the big festivals that have strategic agreements with major sponsors can hope to survive and develop. But even with that, there will be strong economic pressure to integrate in the medium term with larger events such as international film festivals already taking place within the same city or LGBTQ events (pride celebrations or multidisciplinary cultural festivals).