Trading Queer Pain for Laughter

Soft sniffles were heard through the almost silent auditorium of the Marjorie Luke Theatre last Tuesday as the protagonist of Siobhan McCarthy’s comedy film She’s the He tells her mother that she is a transgender girl. It’s a beautifully vulnerable scene in which a young girl, Ethan, begs to be accepted as she is — one that’s cut short with laughter as her chauvinistically straight male friend, Alex, bursts through the front door in a crop top, faux gay lover in hand to one-up her coming out.

This moment of emotional catharsis at She’s the He’s West Coast premiere screening, a homecoming for Santa Barbara–grown writer and director McCarthy, was a much welcome introduction to Pacific Pride Foundation’s official Santa Barbara County Pride Week. As the audience stifled sobs — many reflecting on their own queer experiences — a warmth filled the theater. (See Maggie Yates’s preview story here.)

To quote Nicole Kidman in her iconic AMC Theatres commercial, “Heartbreak feels good in a place like this.”

Opening to the sounds of queer heartthrob Towa Birds’s “Drain Me,” pink and blue graffiti swirling the screen, She’s the He turns the classic coming-of-age narrative of two best friends just trying to fit in completely on its head. In a twist that pokes at the growing conservative fear of trans people “infiltrating” women’s bathrooms, two highschoolers, Ethan and Alex, pretend to be trans women in order to make their way into the girls’ locker room and get themselves laid. 

Sound crazy? That’s the point.

She’s the He fits into a niche catalog of contemporary queer filmmaking — the likes of Bottoms, I Saw the TV Glow, and Tangerine — one which differs from its queer film predecessors in its absurdist sense of humor, irreverent tone, and refusal to explain itself.

“Being a queer person … you have to make the joke before someone else does or you just have to learn how to laugh through the pain,” said director McCarthy during the post-screening Q&A hosted by the Pacific Pride Foundation. 

When asked what their younger selves would think of the film, lead actor Misha Osherovich pointed out how the film “uses vocabulary so freely.” In the eyes of the characters — high school students — the words “transgender,” “nonbinary,” “lesbian,” and “gay” are thrown around almost flippantly, without stigma or fear. The film admits, however, that despite how free Gen Z appears when it comes to exploring LGBT+ identities, living openly as a transgender or queer person is not always a walk in the park.

“It is hard to overstate the federalized attack on trans people that is currently ongoing,” said McCarthy, referencing recent political efforts to restrict gender-affirming healthcare, ban transgender women from girls’ and women’s sports, and prohibit transgender people from accessing public bathrooms.

“At the very least … representing ourselves, can, through these hard times, speak to the joy of our experiences, and hopefully show people who may not be used to seeing our experience represented that we are full-fledged human beings who are deserving of care,” said McCarthy.

The crew emphasized how important it was to work with a predominantly queer cast and crew, particularly when it came to styling transgender actors. “Every feminine piece that you see on me (in the film) was built for my body because shopping and fitting as a trans person is crazy,” noted lead actor Misha Osherovich, who played both male and female presentations of their character Ethan.

Difficult conversations such as these are just par for the course with She’s the He. It’s as costume designer Leah Morrison says, “Dirty, messy, ugly, dirty” and willing to dig into the parts of the queer experience that aren’t always palatable. But, underneath the larger-than-life filmmaking, there’s a softness in the film’s desire to be seen and loved as one is. She’s the He understands the importance of being one’s true self as protagonist Ethan realizes, and as many queer people do, that if you can’t live your life as your true self, it could just kill you.

And yet, there we were. A cast, crew, and crowd of queer people and queer allies who were able to laugh through the pain and come out the other side. 

It was a joyous sense of community that shone through their film and, that night, shone through Santa Barbara.