Berlinale 2023: Orlando, My Political Biography
The word “classic” is thrown around to describe any piece of art that is really good and that people discuss for multiple years. Those works are admittedly more prevalent than many art critics would admit, but it is the “Classics” with a capital C that are few and far between: those are books, poems, paintings, songs, films that evolve through time, starting off as one thing and slowly revealing themselves to be something different from the artist’s intent.
Virginia Woolf’s Orlando: A Biography is one such Classic. This gender-bending fable of a British nobleman who lives through multiple centuries and transforms into a woman overnight has been reappropriated by the LGBTQ+ community as an inherently trans narrative: from body dysmorphia to the deconstruction of gender norms, Woolf’s words still resonate to this day.
Orlando, My Political Biography is Paul B. Preciado’s bold attempt at re-adapting the fantastical novel into a documentary hybrid, with the final result being nothing short of extraordinary. Featuring a dozen queer people, from trans men and trans women to non-binary individuals and kids, every one of these beautiful human beings plays the title character. Woolf’s touching prose is seamlessly woven into the interviews and occasionally modernized, leading to very funny and irrevent transitions from documentary to fiction that never get tiring.
Using this hybrid format is an ingenious move, as it allows the director and each individual to explore what it means to not fit into a binary world. From a darkly hilarious meeting with Doctor Queen (a stand-in for the book’s Queen Victoria) to the gender transition of Orlando during their weeks-long sleep (aided by three literal trans goddesses), there is no end to the creative freedom and clever ingenuity found in front and behind the camera. The longer the film goes on, the more serious topics are introduced, leading to heartbreaking testimonies on the impossibility of choosing one’s gender on identity cards, or how the pharmaceutical industry has a capitalist chokehold on those seeking hormone treatment.
Preciado follows in the great tradition of John Waters, John Cameron Mitchell and other queer auteurs, for they utilize camp humor and bizarre sequences to empower these marginalized individuals, while also making for an immensely entertaining viewing experience. Orlando, My Political Biography is an anti-capitalist, anti-patriarchal, non-binary, colorful ode to Woolf’s book and life. Its final sequence, set in 2028, is one of the most joyful and hopeful scenes one will experience this year, where everyone is accepted for who they are, and true love (love for all of humanity and its future) can reign supreme without fear or shame.