As an art form, queer filmmaking is crammed with depictions of chosen family, from the actual underground community of the Harlem ballroom scene of the late 80s in Paris is Burning, to the casts of queer misfits in Pedro Almodóvar melodramas, to the caring coterie of friends in Russell T Davies’ It’s A Sin. They might be made up of friends, lovers, biological family, ancestors, allies, or idols – what binds these families together is a way of belonging that permits each individual to specific themselves freely, and to be seen on their very own terms.

In recognition of cinema’s role in promoting visibility inside LGBTQ+ communities, Calvin Klein recently partnered with Dazed to present Queer Lens, a series of short movies that reply to the theme of “chosen family”. With a various range of movies from Monica Lek, Adam Munnings, Justice Jamal Jones, and the filmmaking partners Heather Glazzard and Nora Nord, the series spans documentary, narrative, and experimental filmmaking to explore this theme from every angle.

Below, we take a deep dive into each of the movies and unpack a few of their highlights. Watch all the Queer Lens movies in full here.

JUSTICE JAMAL JONES, PEARLS IN THE SPOTLIGHT

Justice Jamal Jones’ mockumentary-style offering, Pearls within the Highlight, makes a case that “family” is unattainable to define, and all the higher for it. Largely unfolding over the course of an intimate post-shoot wrap party, the film opens in a photography studio, with Jones casting themselves behind the camera. Because the filmmaker takes a phone call, nevertheless, we follow their subject, the Black trans actor Yasha Lelonek, through the studio, where she regroups with the remaining of Jones’ inner circle.

In a series of informal interviews, they proceed to talk on their individual definitions of family, love, and spirituality. Within the meantime, Jones (born in Nebraska and based in Latest York) shares a heartfelt conversation with their father over the phone, reconciling their difficulties to simply accept that their biological family got them where they’re today. “I suppose I is likely to be the daughter of my mother and the son of my father,” they are saying. On returning to their circle of friends, the wrap party turns into an impromptu dance session, as they vogue together and play a game of truth or dare, which acts as a portal into deeper truths and shines a highlight on the sweetness and joy of their relationships

What makes Pearls within the Highlight so affecting is that the definition of chosen family isn’t the exact same for any two members of the solid – it’s all relative, depending on where they grew up, the people around them, and the complex inner lives they lead. “Family’s hard, even chosen family,” narrates the voiceover. “Family is sacred, and it’s not something you come by very easily or fairly often.” Nonetheless, Justice Jamal Jones’ film offers hope, urging viewers, and the creatives that may surely follow of their wake, to totally embrace their family once they find it, and to carry on tight.

ADAM MUNNINGS, OASIS

The Tasmania-born, Berlin-based filmmaker Adam Munnings is understood for his hyper-stylised, expressive, and unmistakably queer filmmaking, lifting inspiration from the likes of Xavier Dolan. His recent short film for Queer Lens, titled Oasis, isn’t any exception, taking us on a robust emotional journey, spanning loneliness, hope, and eventually the enjoyment of acceptance amongst Berlin’s LGBTQ+ community.

The four-minute short film opens with lines of a poem by Daniel Marin Medina that recount a tale of alienation, spoken within the dislocated voice of Riley Davidson. “There was no joy there, not for me,” they are saying. “You’re an excessive amount of, you’re not enough. Rise up, bend, but don’t break.” Solo dancers, meanwhile, tell their very own stories through the medium of their bodies – captured in monochrome, their contorted movements speak of restriction, repression, and discomfort in their very own skin. 

Oasis, nevertheless, is a movie of two halves. “I loosened the grip of calloused hands, unstuck myself out of your illusory concessions, and set out to search out an actual home,” says the narrator. “And there you all were.” You, on this case, refers to a various community built on care and solidarity: “All genders, no genders, our bodies gifts to explore.” At this point, the film seems to burst into life, transitioning to a vibrant, strobe-filled group performance with a pulsing electronic rating by Thor Rixon.

For Munnings, it’s about highlighting the facility of finding your people and place on the planet – the titular Oasis – and the way queer cinema may also help to open these doors. “It’s an ongoing journey of understanding what it’s to be queer,” he says. “As we progress we’re learning that queerness is so way more than sexuality: it’s deeper than that. I believe queerness is gorgeous.” Watching his film, it’s unattainable to disagree.

HEATHER GLAZZARD AND NORA NORD, IN THE PRESENCE OF ARTISTS

The title of Within the Presence of Artists – a film by photographer and director Heather Glazzard, and the cinematographer and editor Nora Nord, who’re also real-life partners – just about tells us every little thing we’d like to know in regards to the filmmakers’ chosen family. In just below five minutes, the documentary takes us into the lives of the pair’s fellow queer creatives, including the drag king Prinx Silver, and artists Jade O’Belle and Ebun Sodipo, to reflect on their individual practices and the way they uplift one another as a gaggle.

“I desired to capture my friends who’re making amazing work,” Glazzard says, hinting at an inherent generosity at the guts of queer filmmaking, a form so often concerned with shining a highlight on other creatives or figures within the filmmaker’s orbit.

In Glazzard and Nord’s film, this mainly takes the shape of insightful interviews conducted within the respective studios of the featured artists. Think: mixed media artist O’Belle lighting candles as they reflect on their ancestry and spirituality, or Sodipo exploring their relationship with the body and voice against a backdrop of their collages, or Silver dancing around their lounge in leather chaps, discussing how humour helped shape their conception of gender.

Perhaps essentially the most touching a part of Within the Presence of Artists, though, situates the three creatives in a lush park, accompanied by the those who make their work possible – lovers, friends, or other queer creatives similar to Sinead O’Dwyer. “I really like working with friends,” says O’Belle. “I feel like you could have so many ideas going around, and whenever you share those thoughts with people, then they grow and you discover recent possibilities, you learn a lot. You create family.”

MONICA LEK, MAR DE DIRAC

Mar de Cirac (or Cirac’s Sea) – a movie by the Spanish-born, Latest York and LA-based artist Monica Lek – opens with a sensual tackle quantum entanglement. “If two systems interact with one another, for a certain time frame, after which separate,” whispers the narrator, they’re, “in some subtle way, converted right into a single system. Certainly one of them continues to influence the opposite, despite kilometres of distance, or light years.” It’s an attractive idea, especially when applied to 2 young people whose “entanglement” amounts to a summer spent in each others’ arms, because it does in Lek’s short film.

Taking inspiration from the likes of Ingmar Bergman’s seminal Persona, and evoking the sultry summer nights of more moderen gay romances similar to Call Me By Your Name, Mar de Dirac follows two young woman, Vega and Lethe. The latter is visiting for the summer, and he or she brings a sunrise-tinged light to the moody blues of Vega’s life, because the pair soak up fairground rides and impulsive swims within the local lake. These moments, Lek assures us, will change Vega perpetually.

Of all of the Queer Lens movies, Mar de Cirac is probably least concerned with the formation of an enduring community. As an alternative, it explores the importance of queer chosen family through the depiction of its absence – the sense of isolation and nostalgia-tinged loss that lingers within the wake of a whirlwind romance. On this sense, it’s no less effective as a reminder of the importance of finding the those who permit you to experience and express your truest self. The universal beauty that Lek draws out of Vega and Lethe’s temporary but complex connection establishes her as a filmmaker who’s on target to affix the likes of Bergman, Guadagnino, or Jarman within the pantheon of queer filmmakers in years to return.