Hindsight is a fine thing. In 2021, humanity is more socially and politically engaged than it ever has been – in the world of film criticism, this can be either a blessing or a curse. Sometimes, we can watch previously lauded films and realise they’re pretty dodgy (Revenge of the Nerds, for instance, or Last Tango in Paris). But sometimes, we can watch a film that was panned on its initial release, and realise it’s something of an unsung gem, aeons ahead of its time, and a cornerstone for an entire genre of filmmaking: Jamie Babbit’s But I’m a Cheerleader is a perfect example of the latter.
Originally released in 1999 and now available in a swanky new Blu-ray restoration, Babbit’s directorial debut follows Megan (Natasha Lyonne, Russian Doll), a high school cheerleader who’s sent to a conversion therapy camp when her friends and family think she might be gay. We know how intense that sounds, but don’t worry: Babbit isn’t interested in queer suffering. The film that follows is nothing short of a total hoot, smart as a whip and funny as all hell – and honestly, we’re baffled by how many people hated it back in 1999. Was it just because it’s really gay?
The fact that it’s so unashamedly gay is easily one of Cheerleader’s greatest strengths. At the tail end of the 20th century queer cinema hadn’t quite taken off yet, and as a result, this movie remains something of a pioneer of queer filmmaking. A cast reunion included on the Blu-ray explains this further, but actors Clea DuVall and Joel Michaely (both gay themselves) remain clearly indebted and grateful towards Babbit for daring to break the mould and make something so unashamedly queer. As Michaely points out, at this point in time it was rare for anything to show a healthy, happy queer relationship – so for a film to not only come out swinging in this manner but to be directed by a gay woman too, is incredibly important.
Whatever people’s reasons for disliking the movie back in 1999, it’s gone on to garner something of a cult following, and rightly so. Cheerleader is not only a sweet coming of age tale, it’s also a tender love story, a hilarious comedy, and a biting satire of conversion therapy. Once the laughs start coming (which they do almost immediately), they never stop, especially once Megan reaches the conversion camp. True Directions, as it’s dubbed, is an Argento-esque nightmare of colour – blues, pinks, and greens cover every surface and item of clothing, and it’s utterly disgusting in the best possible way.
In charge of ‘converting’ the kids back to being straight are Mary J. Brown (played to perfection by Cathy Moriarty) and trainer Mike (given some fantastic moments by Drag Race’s own RuPaul). As the villains of the piece, they could not be better: Moriarty is the perfect amount of threatening while still keeping in line with the film’s overall comedic tone, while RuPaul’s performance is so hilariously and obviously gay it hurts.
Its core cast is incredible, too: Natasha Lyonne is wonderful as Megan, imbuing her with the perfect amount of naiveté and optimism to perfectly counterbalance Clea DuVall’s unending cynicism as Graham. The pair are friends in real life, and their natural zing shines through effortlessly. It’s so easy to like both characters and root for them to get together, and it’s also somewhat rare to see a femme come to the rescue of a butch (as Babbit puts it), but extremely refreshing.
Babbit doesn’t put a foot wrong in her directorial choices. Her work with Brian Peterson on the film’s script is incredible, while her collaborations with composer Pat Irwin lend the film’s score the perfect balance between cynicism and optimism, all while being a little bit cheeky. Despite only being 27 at the time of filming, she directs with elegance and poise well beyond her years and brings a distinct know-how to the film that only a woman could pull off.
Sapphic films directed by men in the past have often been pretty dodgy because men can’t understand lesbianism like lesbians can. In films like Blue is the Warmest Colour, a male director gets carried away with a sex scene and it ends up feeling leering, as if he’s sat next to us, elbowing us and going, “Phwoar, two women getting off together, isn’t that hot?” It’s uncomfortable to watch, and But I’m a Cheerleader is yet another example of why films about lesbians should only be directed by lesbians.
While there are no sex scenes in the film (obviously, as all the main characters are teenagers), there are incredibly tender and loving moments between Megan and Graham, and it’s in these moments we see why Babbit was the perfect fit for this film. The pair’s romance feels real and earned, and the first kiss they share isn’t leering or pervy – it’s ethereal. It’s a moment of triumph, self-realisation, and love, and it’s enough to bring tears to the eyes. It’s a beautiful moment in a beautiful film, and its importance cannot be overstated.
While it’s a shame that But I’m a Cheerleader didn’t get the love it deserved back in 1999, it’s wonderful that it’s now getting all the praise in the world. This is a truly special film whose importance cannot be done justice to in words. It’s a cornerstone of the queer cinematic canon, and it’s delightful to see how much all the cast and crew still love it – Cathy Moriarty maintains it’s one of the best films she’s ever been a part of, and she was in Raging Bull! Jamie Babbit’s directorial debut is nothing short of inspired, and if you’re yet to see it, we honestly can’t recommend it enough.
