Given how many motion pictures are released each year, it’s inevitable that the vast majority fade into relative obscurity. There’s only so much room in the mainstream, and that space is almost always occupied by the most accessible and widely-advertised of movies. In this column, I seek to discuss those movies which have been overlooked or underestimated and attempt to explain why they’re worth your attention. Ultimately, I hope to introduce lesser-known films to people who might never have heard about them, and if I’m really lucky, maybe I’ll help broaden my readers’ horizon. This time, the subject is Sean Baker’s 2015 comedy, Tangerine. Feel free to correct me on the language I use regarding race and gender. Did I like it? Yes. When was it released? It premiered at the 2015 Sundance Film Festival and opened across North America later that year. What’s it about? Sin-Dee and her best friend Alexandra are black trans sex workers in Los Angeles. Sin-Dee, after getting out of prison, has just learned that her pimp boyfriend was cheating on her with a cisgender woman, and sets out to give both him and the other girl a piece of her mind. Alexandra copes with the usual annoyances of her own career, and meanwhile, an Armenian taxi driver named Razmik does the same with his job. Also, it takes place on Christmas Eve. Who made it? Tangerine was directed by Sean Baker, who also wrote the film with his friend Chris Bergoch. The two had previously collaborated on Starlet (2012), but Tangerine proved to be their breakthrough. Sin-Dee is played by Kitana Kiki Rodriguez and Alexandra is played by Mya Taylor, both of whom are not professional actors and whom Baker met at a Los Angeles LGBT Center. What’s pertinent is that, whereas many films would have Sin-Dee and Alexandra played by cis actors, Rodriguez and Taylor are both trans women themselves. Meanwhile, Razmik is played by Karren Karagulian, who previously worked with Baker on Starlet. What content warnings or trigger warnings apply? Tangerine contains depictions of sex, vomit, violence, drugs, swearing, transphobia, verbal abuse, and racism. What language is it in? English. What’s its style? Tangerine is a straightforward comedy, with a heavy reliance on verbal wit and a lot of raunchy dialogue, albeit one with moments of sentimentality and intensity. Alexandra and especially Sin-Dee have abrasive, talkative personalities, which provides much of the film’s charm, but the film doesn’t just leave them to babble, and smartly modulates its pace and tone to make the characters feel more real and sympathetic. Notably, the film was shot on an iPhone 5S, resulting in a distinctly low-fi appearance, but the fuzzy image quality, overblown light sources, and dull greenish tint all enhance the harsh tone. Baker also likes to employ aggressive zooms and pulsing trap music. Why is it interesting? A lot of it is the raucous vibe: Rodriguez and Taylor are both genuinely terrific, inhabiting the protagonists’ larger-than-life personalities so well I wonder how much of their dialogue is completely improvised. Both speak loudly and frequently, and yet there’s such an exuberance to their delivery that each line positively sparkles. As much as the film’s humour is dependent on its leads’ energy and the profanity-laden dialogue, though, it’s also got a strong visual wit, regularly providing quirky details in the backgrounds of scenes or even as brief pit stops along the narrative. On top of that, the film is appealingly digressive: significant scenes are punctuated with quirky interruptions from the other two stories, and when the film slows down, it’s still happy to puncture the mood with spontaneous bursts of humour. Baker’s style of humour is boisterous and noisy, but on several occasions the movie changes pace and takes its protagonists’ anxieties more seriously. In Alexandra’s scenes, that often revolves around the uncertainties of her work, including unsympathetic police officers and entitled customers. Sin-Dee, meanwhile, is mostly concerned with her relationship with her boyfriend, and beneath all of her aggression it’s clear just how anxious she is about his apparent betrayal. In certain key moments, their vulnerability does shine through, and they both become genuinely sympathetic as the movie progresses. Neither of them is a perfect person, but they have no shortage of redemptive moments, and their witty rapport is genuinely endearing. Consequently, the emotional stakes of each disconnected moment are genuinely compelling. But although the two’s woes are always on the surface, it’s in the movie’s most sentimental scenes that they appear most vulnerable: clearly, these two women care about each other, and there’s a surprising amount of heart underlying the film’s in-your-face style. The casting and subject matter serve to give Tangerine an air of progressivism, and the film does take on more serious issues of race and gender. The film doesn’t really dwell on it, but the fact of Sin-Dee and Alexandra’s trans identities does hang in the air, and while the two of them are content to joke about it, others are much less accepting. There’s more than one scene of one of the protagonists being misgendered or an unwarranted reference to genitalia, and some viewers should be advised that this isn’t a fantasy so much as a portrait of life on the fringe of society. Nonetheless, Baker’s camera is unjudgmental: to the extent that trans identity is used for humour, it’s almost entirely by way of the lead women making mundane, tossed-off comments, and if anything, cisgender people receive the brunt of the film’s mockery. The word “fish” comes up, for instance, in reference to cis women, and all the male characters think with their dick first. Race is less of a factor, but there is some cringe comedy based on white people using African-American slang. What are its themes?
For all its progressive subject matter, Tangerine mostly revolves around the simple pathos of its characters’ journeys, and the clearest themes which emerge are familiar ones about female solidarity and friendship. In that sense, it’s not entirely different from any number of more conventional comedies, but it doesn’t so much present that as the end of its character arcs as suggest it through various quiet moments littered amongst the more frenzied scenes. In large part, the film is also about the general difficulties of being a black trans sex worker, and one of its most admirable qualities is how it deglamorizes Los Angeles. It’s just a day in the life of these women, and ultimately what comes across is a sort of authenticity. In summary:
Tangerine has a uniquely abrasive style of humour, but there’s also an undercurrent of sweetness and drama which makes its leads sympathetic even through their imperfections. It also offers a daring visual style due to being shot on an iPhone 5S, and has nonprofessional trans actors giving strong, energized performances. Those performances alone elevate the film, but it’s also filled with strong dialogue, and the characters are great on their own merit. It’s very funny, but it’s also unexpectedly moving where it counts. Support me on Patreon and get new posts a week early!
