At the heart of writer-director Elena Oxman’s stunning feature debut Outerlands is a richly nuanced and captivating central performance by Asia Kate Dillon. It is an affectingly understated, delicate film and Dillon, with their beautifully expressive face and underlying emotional intensity, proves to be a perfect fit for Oxman’s style.
As the film opens we meet Cass (Dillon) as they juggle multiple jobs—working as a nanny for a wealthy family, serving at an upscale restaurant with demanding clientele, and dabbling in party drug dealing—in order to pay for their rent-stabilized studio apartment, squirreling away cash under their bed. Meanwhile, their landlord is attempting to intimidate them with a constant flurry of notices about changes in policy.
Their tiny apartment—the kind of place, like the rest of the film’s locations, that looks like where a real person actually lives, not a movie set—is where they spend most of their evenings alone drinking beer. It is situated in the Outer Sunset region of San Francisco, west of Golden Gate Park, what used to be referred to as the Outlerands.
The imprint of a changed, hyper-gentrified city following the influx of tech companies, is felt in the fibre of the film, both narratively and visually, as the steely glass skyscrapers loom over San Francisco’s more characterful, vibrantly colourful architecture. While in a city that was once the epicentre of the country’s queer community, all that seems to be on offer now in Cass’ neighbourhood is a weekly “queer night” at a local straight bar, that comes with a $20 cover charge.
When it comes to immersing us in the city, Lucia Zavarcikova’s cinematography is hypnotic, especially paired with Lena Raine’s stirring, frequently choral, score. With dynamic movement that suggests Cass’ perspective as they are riding around on their scooter, the strong sense of place that is rendered put me in mind of Bay Area filmmaker Jenni Olson’s urban landscape 16mm films.
Oxman and Zavarcikova invite the audience in, letting us get intimate with the characters, while the screenplay never overstates anything, including Cass’ gender identity and sexuality. During a flirtatious laundromat encounter with Kalli (Louisa Krause), their rather enigmatic co-worker at the restaurant whom they have a crush on, Kalli jokingly compares Cass to “Mary Poppins” because of their work as a nanny. “More like Peter Pan”, Cass comes back with. Later at the bank, when Cass is trying to conform with their landlord’s new payment procedures, their banker, Denise (Lea DeLaria), comments on the funds that have gone towards medical bills. We also catch a glimpse of some testosterone in Cass’ bathroom cabinet. As a viewer, it is refreshing to be treated with intelligence by a filmmaker, trusting us to pick up on these details, and in turn helping to make the film all the more absorbing.
After Kalli and Cass spend the night together, conveyed in a gorgeously sensual and steamy scene sex (inspired by Bound) that is all about the connection between the characters, Kalli calls to ask if Cass will take care of her twelve-year-old daughter, Ari (Ridley Asha Batemen), while she is out of town for a couple of days. Cass agrees, but as days pass by, Kalli remains completely out of contact and it becomes uncertain whether she is ever coming back to the city. Suddenly confronted with having to care for someone else, a poignant bond gradually builds between Ari and Cass, one that brings memories of Cass’ own difficult childhood, left in the care of their grandmother, bubbling to the surface.
Having dug out an old box of childhood belongings, Cass becomes drawn back into playing a computer game they played when they were younger, Outerlands, centred on an isolated astronaut trying to find their way home, that echoes Cass’ state of mind then and now. The subtlety of Dillon’s brooding performance makes even the quietest moments of the film compelling, as the lifetime of hurt and struggle that is visible on their face, gives way to flickers of healing breaking through.
Batemen is a revelation as Ari, bringing a restrained, natural quality to her performance and proving an engaging scene partner with Dillon, including one heartbreaking sequence when Ari finally allows her guard to drop and to let Cass in. The work between the two is tender and vulnerable, while it reveals so much about who these characters are, often without a word being spoken.
The excellent cast includes a lively and endearing supporting turn from Daniel K. Isaac as Cass’ outgoing restaurant co-worker Emile, who is determined to form a deeper connection with them. While Lea DeLaria is an utter delight as Denise. As a performer, her presence immediately calls forth a sense of queer screen history over the past few decades, while she fully embodies her character, bringing a warmth and reassuring vibe, despite the harsh, cold environment of her bank office. As well as delivering some levity, DeLaria’s character has a full backstory, and offers a sense of extended queer chosen family in a city where that is fast disappearing.
Having world premiered at SXSW in March, Outerlands has gone on to play a number of major LGBTQ+ and mainstream festivals internationally, winning audience awards at Wicked Queer in Boston and Turin’s Lovers Film Festival. It is satisfying to see this exquisitely-crafted, character-driven queer indie be deservedly celebrated. It is a gently profound film that makes a deeply moving, indelible impression.
By James Kleinmann
Outerlands, which world premiered at SXSW Film & TV Festival and received its international premiere at BFI Flare: London LGBTQIA+ Film Festival, is now available to buy or rent on Prime Video and other VOD platforms from Wolfe Video.