Femme review – an uninhibited, spikey portrait of revenge

In the UK, LGBTQ+ hate crimes have been steadily rising over the past five years. Incidents against trans people have increased to 186% and 112% on the basis of sexual orientation. These alarming figures can feel hard to grasp but the humanity of this data is condensed into directors Sam H. Freeman and Ng Choon Ping’s startling film – a feature-length adaptation of the directors’ BAFTA-nominated 2021 short film – that boldly tackles the fallout of homophobic violence.

Femme’s central characters meet in a violent altercation that provides real-life grounding to hate crime statistics. Following a drag lipsync performance to Cleo by Shygirl, the glamorous Jules (Nathan Stewart-Jarrett) is grabbing cigarettes at a corner shop when a group of lads begin spouting threats. Jules chirps back at taunting ringleader Preston (George MacKay), a hot-tempered man with dark tattoos that crawl up his pale neck. Anxiety rises as the handheld camera pursues Jules’ attempted escape. One minute a regal, cerulean vision of confidence, the next Jules is left stripped and bruised on the pavement.

Three months after the attack, Jules’ bruises have healed but the emotional scars remain deep as he withdraws from his friends and drag community. Jules has found a different form of escapism: bathing in the neon cobalt lights of a gay sauna. Cinematographer James Rhodes brings colour to the darkness but under seductive lights, there is a spark of danger. It’s here, in the shadows, that Jules spots Preston with a small white towel around his waist. Jules’ assailant doesn’t recognise him and he follows Preston to the changing room, then into his car, flat, and bed.

Sleeping with the enemy is Jules’ path to vengeance, plotting that posting revenge porn of Preston is justified retaliation. Aggressive sex scenes in the black abyss of woodland or the grim shadows of an alleyway become part of Jules’ mission for sexual power. Though he’s subject to Preston’s snarling gaze, alone on fancy dinner dates and in each other’s bedrooms the laser focus on revenge seems to waver. An ambiguity is caught in the fearlessness of Stewart-Jarrett’s exquisite performance as Jules comes to know Preston beyond his hardened facade.

Intertwining unfettered vulnerability with a burning ambition for revenge, Stewart-Jarrett fortifies Jules’ anxiousness with a deliberately rehearsed composure. It’s a rewardingly complex character-focused revenge thriller, especially when Freeman and Ping’s script digs deeper with Jules confessing his drag alter-ego felt like “the real me, and I was the performance.” The beautifully delivered sentiment by Stewart-Jarrett solidifies Femme’s interest in self-reclamation rather than explicit and shocking violence.

Similarly impressive, MacKay shoulders a nuanced depiction of a young man trapped by his own demons void of eye-rolling cliché. Freeman and Ping’s script doesn’t fall back on an easy assertion of the closeted attacker. Instead, Femme tackles internalised homophobia in a confrontational manner with Preston’s perverse actions are interrupted by a sweet peck on Jules’ lips. Despite the divisions reflected in Buki Ebiesuwa’s dexterous costume design and the internal lives of these two characters, Freeman and Ping’s film unites characters on an emotional level for this uninhibited, spikey portrait of revenge.