When I was in high school, a YouTuber uploaded a parody trailer for The Shining, recut as a heartwarming, father-son comedy. All it took was a well-placed “Solsbury Hill” needle drop, along with some clever editing and a cloying new voice-over, and the Stanley Kubrick horror classic now feels family-friendly. I was thinking about that parody trailer and the ways in which a filmmaker can manipulate her viewer as I was watching Dolls, a new short film written and directed by Geena Rocero and produced by Lilly Wachowski. It concerns a private investigator who’s been sent to infiltrate a purported cult that claims to be a self-help group, exclusively for trans women. (From Louise Weard’s latest Castration Movie installment to Grace Byron’s new novel, Herculine, separatist politics abound in trans women’s art of late — understandably so, I should think.) The score, by Pulitzer Prize–winning composer Susie Ibarra, is appropriately unsettling: a mix of lingering piano riffs and sudden, intense bursts of strings, all of which reinforces the framing that, yes, this is a cult. But the moments of tenderness between its members as they bond and process their trauma at times left me wondering otherwise. Is it all just music and angles? Does a gathering of trans women only seem sinister because we are always, even perhaps to ourselves, going to be seen as suspect?
Dolls screened as part of NewFest in New York on Monday after premiering last month in Atlanta; you can stream it here through October 21. Rocero’s project was shown alongside seven other short films by and about trans women (personal favorites also included Nana Duffuor’s Rainbow Girls and Kylie Aoibheann’s The Dysphoria), and it did so to a sold-out house, something that delighted Rocero though didn’t exactly surprise her. In a phone interview a few days before the screening, she told me that she knew the event would be packed. “I sent all my friends texts and emails in all caps with stars around it, ‘This will sell out! Buy your tickets!’” she said. “Now, from what I’ve been hearing the past few days, there are no more tickets left. Looks at my texts! I told you, guys!” Still, she continued, “it’s very exciting,” as is the future of Dolls, which Rocero may or may not be expanding into something more feature length, possibly alongside Wachowski. She hinted at the possibility over the course of our interview, during which we also discussed her enduring fascination with “unhinged female characters” and coming into her own as a teenage “pageant diva” in the Philippines.
Hi, Geena! Forgive me for being so bundled up. The temperature dropped here in New York, and my big prewar building hasn’t turned on the heat yet. Where are you calling in from?
I’m in New York, too. I live here. There’ve been a lot of exciting things happening with the New York Film Festival and all. I’ve been seeing a lot of incredible films. Sentimental Value, by Joachim Trier, was so emotional. I cried … I don’t know how many times because it’s about sisters and it made me remember my sisters. I saw The Secret Agent — I’ve been a fan of the director Kleber Mendonça Filho for a while. Its setting is in a rural part of Brazil, and all of the shots of the fiesta celebrations reminded me of when I was joining pageants in a rural mountain province in the Philippines. I also got to see Claire Denis—
She’s one of your favorite filmmakers, right?
She’s the reason! I got to see her new film, The Fence. I got into her work at the beginning of the pandemic, right around when I was writing my memoir, Horse Barbie, and not long after Criterion launched its streaming platform. My dear sister, the filmmaker Isabel Sandoval, was the one who told me about the Criterion Channel, which had a showcase of Claire Denis’s films at the time, and I just went crazy with it. I love Beau Travail in particular. Watching that film was what made me decide that I was going to become a filmmaker — scripted films, particularly, because I’ve directed and produced unscripted, documentary-style projects before. It was all so revelatory, digging through her filmography, and then to be watching her new film at the festival and listening to her speak, it was just this [sighs], just such a full-circle moment. Oh, and then I’m planning to see Jafar Panahi’s new film that won the Palme d’Or.
You mentioned your memoir and the documentaries you’ve made. Obviously, Dolls is fiction. What does fiction allow you to do as a storyteller that, say, sticking to the straight facts of a thing would not?
I used to have a production company that was only producing documentaries, docuseries — nonfiction projects. When I was writing my memoir, I had this realization that I have lived this, you know, very cinematic life. The trans beauty pageants. The very strict, pageant-oriented world of Catholicism we have in the Philippines. Did you know that our trans beauty pageants exist because of Catholic celebrations? We celebrate many different saints in the Philippines. Usually it’s a five-day celebration, and on the Sunday the main event for the whole family is a trans beauty pageant right on the street. Kids go, moms holding their babies … Sometimes, it’s held right in front of the church. I’ve done many, many pageants where the dressing room was in the church, in front of all the saints, and it’s nothing! It’s just part of our culture. Writing about all of that in my memoir made me want to play even bigger. Fiction just allows me to play and explore on a greater level. The pageant diva in me still wants to perform, but creating worlds to play in through writing and directing take precedence these days.
Let’s talk Dolls. One of my favorite things about the film is how ambiguous it remains for much of its run. There’s a group at the center of it. We’re told it’s a cult that claims to be a self-help group for trans women, and the unsettling score and palpably sinister vibe of it all certainly reinforces that framing. But while I was watching it, I did start to wonder if it actually was empowering these women and if it appeared sinister only from the outside in because a room full of trans women is inherently suspect to some people. I found that tension and confusion really interesting. Where did the idea for it come from?
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Some people close to me were going through some really intense, painful experiences. One friend was dealing with chronic pain taking over their body. Another was going through the emotional pain of a breakup. Another was grappling with the aftermath of childhood trauma. As I was processing all of this with them, the idea for a story about group-therapy sessions came about, which I then twisted to make something more sinister out of it from the music to the looks. It’s a short, so it had to be a self-contained story, so there is an ending that kind of hints at what was actually happening. But I did try to create a world that could be returned to.
Would you expand on the story, if the opportunity presented itself?
Oh, it is definitely happening. [Laughs.] That’s as much as I can say, but yeah, it’s being developed.
Does whatever it is you’re hinting at have anything to do with a certain producer, i.e., Lilly Wachowski?
Umm … Let’s just say it’s being expanded. That’s as much as I can say. [Laughs.]
Got it. Along with writing, directing, and producing the short, you also star as the leader of the cult at its center. How would you describe her?
I’m definitely inspired by Glenn Close in various films, Tilda Swinton in Suspiria … I’m really interested in unhinged female characters and really wanted to explore the duality of how charming she would have to be while still having this sinister aspect really oozing out of her. I wanted to create the sense that there’s definitely a manipulative aspect to her, but at the same time I don’t want to give too much away upfront.
I love that you brought up Suspiria. Your use of movement in Dolls really made me think of Suspiria while watching.
Choreographed by Tyler Ashley!
Who also plays a cult member.
I was very interested in using choreography as a way to better manage an ensemble cast, to have a lot of people onscreen without it feeling overstuffed. Choreographed movement allowed me to do that.
Rocero behind the camera guiding her Dolls.
There’s a moment at the end when Valeria, played by Macy Rodman, smiles and does this one-arm movement to Yên Sen’s Yan, who then does it back to her, call-and-response style. It said so much about how deeply imbricated Yan had become without having to spell it out. You mentioned Isabel Sandoval earlier. I’m curious, because obviously in real life we’re allowed to be friends with other trans women without it being a sign that we’ve fallen into some kind of cult, who are the trans women artists you turn to for commiseration, and support?
Isabel is definitely one of those people. When I first finished this film’s script, I sent it to a trusted circle of people who I know will be able to take our friendship out of it and give me unbiased feedback. Zackary Drucker is another person that I talk to all the time about these things. I speak a lot with my trans mom that gave me the nickname “Horse Barbie.” I’ve known her since I was 15, back when I was first starting in trans pageants. What amazing, beautiful years those were, becoming this trans pageant diva, traveling all over the Philippines, and learning the ropes to make it work wherever we were going. I go back to those elements to find my sense of play and sense of freedom when I’m creating things. I’m very inspired by watching other performers. Like I said, I love seeing unhinged, complicated female characters — trans women, particularly. I love attending Baby Tea Brunch of Charlene and Tyler Ashley, and I obviously loved getting to watch the late, great Cecilia Gentili in her one-woman show, Red Ink.
More and more trans filmmakers have attracted mainstream notice and support in recent years: Isabel Sandoval, as we’ve discussed, and also people like Louise Weard, Nyala Moon, Jane Schoenbrun, Morgan M. Page, Chase Joynt, Tourmaline, Kristen Lovell, Sam Feder, and obviously many more than I can name off the top of my head. Simultaneously, there’s been an anti-trans backlash in just about every sphere of American life, from politics to culture and entertainment. I’m curious, from your vantage point, how this may have affected the kind of opportunities trans filmmakers have access to.
I recognize that. With Horse Barbie, I was shopping it around for a bit, but then there was the strike and now with that political context, I know that I’m still pushing it as an artist. It’s heartbreaking to see what’s happening, to really see what’s happening in my industry, but I’d like to believe that they’re still there, the producers and possible partners who will perfectly match whatever it is we’re making. As much craziness is happening, people are still speaking up. There are people like Cate Blanchett and the Duplass brothers providing funding and support for trans filmmakers. I also know that I’ll always be obsessed with creating, with following that instinct. Creating is a form of self-preservation for me. It’s a spiritual refuge whether I’m writing or researching or tracking down a book I want to read for some bigger project. Creation never ends.
