The new film Bruising for Besos is unique not only because of the lesbian Latinas and Xicanas at its center, but also for dealing with the rarely discussed issue of domestic abuse within lesbian relationships. Ahead of the movie’s world premiere at Frameline, we spoke with its queer writer-director and star Adelina Anthony.
We talked about her hopes for the film, plans for a sequel and the importance of language and casting in a movie like hers. Adelina also took the time to tell us about how the recent events in Orlando have affected her.
AfterEllen.com: Through my correspondence with you, I know you were personally touched by the massacre in Orlando and particularly over the Latino and Latina lives lost there. I wanted to give you a moment to speak to that.
Adelina Anthony: My wife and I have talked about this at length. This massacre, in particular, was extremely devastating to us. And a massacre at this level we would’ve felt anyway, but being queer people of color, Latinas, Xicanas, and seeing the images of these beautiful brown bodies and people of color, every time a photo comes up we see images of our families, we see our friends, and we know very well that it could have been someone that we either know, or it could’ve been ourselves. This incident is, unfortunately, something that we experience viscerally on the day-to-day—just the way that multiple violences affect people who are living at the intersections.
Part of what gives us some peace is knowing that the premiere of this film is happening and will be witnessed by our queer, trans people of color communities. Primarily Xicanos and Latinos, Latinas, who actually funded the project two years ago and made it possible. And we stopped doing any kind of promotion out of respect. The wave of grief has come over us.
But then it’s figuring out what can we do with this that creates change, that creates a legacy that doesn’t allow for these 49 victims to be forgotten and that their murder is not in vain.
AE: Thank you. Moving onto the film now, where did the idea for it come from?
AA: The film was inspired by my solo play, which I wrote and performed under the same title. I started the initial drafts of that solo play back in 2003 under my mentor at the time, Cherrie Moraga, who’s an amazing Xicana activist. And so I started Yoli’s initial monologues in her classes. It was a solo play, and I was playing all these characters, and I knew that I wanted to explore my experience at the time as a young queer Xicana who grew up in a home that had domestic violence and a series of other issues that many people from impoverished communities deal with. I wanted to really examine what does it mean to be raised in this familial environment and then be shaped as a queer female lover and how is it that we carry on the trauma or we repeat the legacies that we think quite often we’ve run away from.
I knew in 2010 that I was going to make my way back into film. I knew that because at the time I was very aware that the digital revolution was also making filmmaking a real opportunity. We have learned so much and at the same time what’s been rewarding is just making a film on our own sovereign terms. This is the first in a trilogy. So once we recover from this film, we’ll put our eyes on the second one.
AE: So there are already plans for a second film?
AA: Yeah. I already have the first draft for the second film, and so our plan is to spend the next year promoting and putting Bruising for Besos out into the world, back into our communities. And in that time, I’m going to be working on rewrites for the second film, and we’re going to be looking for funding. We’re holding out for a really strong distribution deal because if we get a distribution deal, then that will help us cover our debts and will provide the seed money for the second film. The second film has to be shot in Texas, so those are things that we also have to prepare for. But in an ideal scenario, if we find the funding, we can be shooting the second film a year and a half from now. That would be the goal.
AE: While we all can enjoy the film, in what ways do you think it’s especially specific to Latina lesbians in the United States? Or maybe even more specifically, the Los Angeles area.
AA: I feel like one of the things I was really intentional about as a writer is that I wanted a Xicana playing a Xicana lesbian because, linguistically speaking, I think that audiences will be able to appreciate the Spanglish that’s in the film. You can’t recreate that; you can’t fake it. For me as an artist, there’s a certain poetics to Spanglish. Like there’s certain words, even though in the film we translate, there’s certain words that just can’t be translated. They have a certain feeling and a certain gusto to them when you say them. On top of the poetics of Spanglish and the historical connection to language and how our peoples were forbidden to speak Spanish in the U.S., not having access to education also creates a different kind of vernacular. So there’s a politic to it.
The other detail is that Daña’s character, I was very clear that I wanted a Puerto Rican actress to play this Puerto Rican character. Because quite often what happens in Hollywood or films where they are casting Latino roles—like if it’s a Latino role and you’re using the term Latino as an umbrella term, sure, anyone can play it. But sometimes these films are casting for very specific ethnic roles, and they just miss it in casting. So when we hear a Puerto Rican playing a Mexican, like it’s laughable to us because we’re like, “Oh my god, can’t they hear it?” And they don’t really care. I’ve had that experience where they’re like, “Oh, it doesn’t really matter.” What they’re saying is, “It doesn’t matter that it’s not going to read as a genuine experience for us.” We’re not their ideal audiences.
But for my work, my communities are very much ideal, and I do take that ethnic context really seriously. So I think what’s really great about Daña is that you then have this intercultural dialogue and literally this east-west coast. And there’s overlap, but there’s also a distinction of just cultural nuance. I think that in Los Angeles there’s also a way in which there’s a Xicana Indigena element, and so you see that with Ixchel’s character. My hope is actually that when people watch the film, they realize that I took great care to try to give different portraits of different kinds of Xicanas and Latinas.
AE: I want to stay with the character of Daña. I think it’s lost on some people in the LGBT community that, even in 2016, you can be queer in your late twenties and early thirties in a big city like Los Angeles and still feel religious shame over your sexuality. Do you think Daña is a unique character in that way? Is she just a real person that’s not often shown in film?
AA: I think she’s absolutely a real person that is not often shown in film. I think for Latinos, many of us have been colonized through the Catholic Church and through religion. It’s a very real experience to deal with the shame. I have a lot of compassion for Daña, and it’s why I didn’t want to write her off as just, “Oh, she’s religious.” Which is what we tend to do. There’s also something to be said when queer, trans people of color, LGBT folks, want to reclaim religion and spirituality on their own terms. She’s not the protagonist, so we only get glimpses of her journey. But if she were the protagonist of her own story we would probably see that struggle.
AE: I wanted to say that I really do appreciate that you didn’t shy away from including multiple sex scenes in the film and that they’re all quite passionate. Why was that important to you?
AA: I will say that I have been a queer Xicana performer who’s always espoused a sex-positive attitude about our sexuality. And precisely because we’re made to feel ashamed of the sexuality, I knew that I wanted to write a story where our sexuality was front and center. But it was also deeply intertwined with the complexity of the characters. So because the film allows us to delve into the emotional complexity of these women, I have no qualms about also showing the passion and the lesbian desire and the sexuality that we lust for, that we love for, that we live for. And with this story too, I think that it’s absolutely connected because there’s a certain heat that these two characters needed to have. They have great sex together, and I think a lot of lesbians can relate to, “God, she’s great in bed, but she’s the wrong girlfriend. But God, she’s great in bed!” So there we are. That’s something that’s implicit in their connection. I wanted to really see these two characters in all of their complexity, and that includes their sexuality. I wanted the images to be sensual, erotic, tasteful and artistic, but no doubt about it that you’re going, “Oh yeah, that’s lesbian sex.”
AE: Changing tones drastically here, I do also want to talk about domestic abuse, which you cover in the film. Is it your opinion that domestic abuse within the lesbian community isn’t discussed enough? If so, why do you think that is?
AA: I think it’s absolutely not discussed enough. I feel that part of the reason is that in many ways we’re already dealing with a society that shames us, that makes us fight for our relationships and makes us fight for the right to love. It’s the problem of not wanting to show your dirty laundry in many ways. You know that we’re under attack constantly so you don’t want to give fodder to individuals who will then damage our relationships more. Because of how society feels about us, very few people necessarily address queer issues. Quite often, it’s our organizations that have to take up issues and make them more prevalent. So I feel like there are so many reasons why women, queer and non-queer, don’t address the issue, from the personal to the political. There’s also the element that, I think between women to be very specific, we feel that, “Oh, it’s another woman. I can either handle it, or it’s not really the same thing because it’s not a man beating up a woman.”
I haven’t seen many films address it in this specific context and also address it in a way that, I hope, the audience is walking away with enough moments of respite and with enough moments of understanding why we do stay in the relationships.
AE: On that, the film is about to have its world premiere at Frameline. What do you ultimately hope audiences get out of it and what, if any, conversations do you hope it’ll spark?
AA: I’m hoping this film works as a way to break silence. If there are lesbians, bisexual, queer women, trans people, gay men—even non-queers because we have a lot of family members coming and supporting—that are dealing with this, that they will find themselves in a space where they are open emotionally to seek out the help. And I hope that the conversation also helps us examine how our childhood traumas absolutely continue to operate in our lives unless we find the tools that really help us heal as individuals and as communities. I feel that the film is complex enough and intersectional enough to actually invite multiple conversations. And this is where we’re headed in this generation. Our movements are intersectional. I think that queer, trans people of color as leaders are critical in this day and age where we’re seeing the constant overlap of misogyny, patriarchy, of homophobia, transphobia, of immigrant rights, xenophobia. Having these conversations come out of our audience is, I’m hoping that it leads to conversations about how we then enact different policies, enact access. And then I also know from all the years of art making that once the film is in the world, it’s given as an offering, it’s medicine for those of us who are open to it and need it.
Bruising for Besos plays at Frameline in San Francisco on June 21 and at Outfest in Los Angeles on July 16. Visit the movie’s Facebook page to keep up with future screening news.
