ii.FTG is certainly a labour of love. The process of creating the show, Figaro told me, started “about two years ago,” with all three of the performers involved in it “since day one.”

“The work started out of the studio,” Figaro said, “with a process of building playlists, listening to playlists, [and] paying attention to music videos.” With Djeff Jean-Philippe (stage name: DJ Chef Jeff) seamlessly mixing live during the dance performance, music is the heart and soul of ii.FTG. Figaro mentioned a “writing workshop” that the three artists partook in before the creation process, with “discussions about lineage, heritage, and also how male artists rap about women.” From this, ii.FTG started to take shape.

Key inspirations for the show, Dupas stated, are “Francophone rap” and “Afrobeats”. The influence of both genres shines through both visually, in the piece’s costumes and lighting, and in the dancers’ movements.

When I arrived at the performance space, MAI exuded a friendly, welcoming atmosphere. As people took off their snow boots and entered the space, there was a collective sense of the outside world slipping away. What followed was certainly an immersive experience. Assamba sat on a stool by the entrance, completely still, while Figaro, clad in an iridescent hoodie with her face covered, moved around the stage, at times coming up close to the audience. With seating on both sides of the room, the audience encircled and became submerged in the movements of the duo in the center.

The show opened dramatically, with Assamba entering and giving the audience an arresting stare. The music started slowly, with Assamba and Figaro’s natural, intimate movements exuding a palpable connection between them. The dancers, Dupas described, work “within systems of improvisation” – each night is different, but the performers always work from the ideas they built together in the studio.

The costumes were inspired by music videos, with links to “Aurélie and Athena’s personal styles,” Dupas tells me – a testament to “club settings where you’re not wearing ‘dance clothing,’ but just clothing that makes you feel good.” With two costume changes in an hour-long performance, the space became metamorphic. After Figaro’s chrysalis-like removal of her hoodie revealed her mouth to be taped shut, her next costume included a reflective mesh over her face, portraying thematic “opacity” that Dupas worked with to exemplify how the audience can never fully see into the dancers’ worlds.

Over the course of the experience, the lighting moved from darkness, with long, dramatic shadows and silhouettes, to spotlights, to strobe effects, melding smoothly with the range of reverb, echo, and looping in the show’s auditory landscape. At times, DJ Chef Jeff was illuminated at his decks, blurring the lines between music and dance throughout the performance.

The show ended with a club-like finale and salsa-esque moves between Figaro and Assamba. As the lights came on, there was a grin on every audience member’s face, myself included.

ii.FTG is more than a dance show. To Dupas, there is always a “dialogue” between music and dance – “there are moments where some of the gestures will inspire the music, the glitching, and some other times where it’s really the music taking over.” With DJ Chef Jeff’s dance background, the two forms melded naturally together.

For Assamba, ii.FTG shows how “song can become a world in itself,” with each number telling its own personal story through the duo’s physicality. For Figaro, it was like “inviting people to my personal listening party.” In fact, DJ Chef Jeff’s mix was inspired by a playlist created by Dupas and Figaro, transforming ii.FTG into a uniquely personal space.

‘FTG’ has an open meaning: ‘For The Girls,’ ‘For The Gays,’ and ‘Ferme Ta Gueule’ (trad. ‘shut up’) are some of the many interpretations of the title, reflecting the fluidity of meaning that ii.FTG offers.

I asked what advice the artists would give to anyone in Montreal hoping to pursue a creative career. For Assamba, it’s important to be your “authentic self.” For Figaro, it’s about “connecting with community, but also staying humble and curious.” For Dupas, it’s to “trust what you love geeking about.”

ii.FTG truly felt like a work of passion and collaboration. I was privileged to have been able to share time and space with such original artists who truly enjoyed and believed in what they were putting out into the world.

The post ii.FTG: A Tour de Force appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Montreal-born writer of Hungarian heritage David Szalay was named the 2025 Booker Prize Winner for his novel, Flesh. 

Szalay was born in Canada, grew up in London, lived in Hungary, and now resides in Vienna.   It is then  unsurprising that he told The Guardian  his latest book was about the “underlying experience of being poised between two places and feeling not 100% at home in either of them”.

Nearly ten years after Szalay’s  All That Man Is was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize, the prize-winning Flesh was found by the judges to be “hypnotically tense and compelling,” and an “astonishingly moving portrait of a man’s life.” I agree with the judges — I was hooked from the start, and I sped through the book in a couple of days. 

Flesh has an arresting and uncomfortable premise. Its protagonist, István, a timid, pubescent 15-year-old, is living with his mother in Hungary. His friend asks him if he’s done “it” before, saying a girl he knows is willing to sleep with István. Sexually confused and awkward, the interaction goes nowhere. However, István then starts helping his neighbour with her grocery shopping. The forty-two year old shockingly grooms him, and, in a mixture of disgust and desire, István becomes obsessed with her. The interaction eventually culminates in a violent altercation with her husband that lands István in juvenile prison. 

The reader only sees select episodes from István’s complicated and ever-evolving life, with the novel characterized by often disjointed time jumps. We see István move from prison, to military service in Iraq, to private security in London. “Money exists as a way of distributing power,” Szalay notes. As István secures work as driver and bodyguard to wealthy Karl Nyman and his family, he becomes increasingly immersed in the super-elite circles of London through an affair with his employer’s wife. Eventually, he marries her — a fulfilment of a truly unconventional rags-to-riches story. 

At the forefront of Flesh is the idea of sex and the body. Sex is difficult to write about. In Szalay’s words, “It’s always a challenge to avoid, sort of tipping into a kind of pornography, or writing about it in a sort of way that becomes ludicrous, or both.” Szalay calls it a “risk” to “write about sex from a specifically male perspective,” perhaps aware that Flesh would be caught up in current discussions about toxic masculinity and the positionality of contemporary male authors. 

To dwell on this matter, however, would be to take away from the raw emotional impact that the book has on the reader. István is both a morally ambiguous and unlikeable character. Callous in the way he views and thinks about women, and unkind to many in his life, it is hard to connect or feel sympathy with him. However, the feeling of being lost and isolated in life is a thoroughly universal, human experience. Szalay, in Flesh, “wanted to write about what it [was] like to be a living body in the world,” and this is exactly the impression the novel leaves. 

Flesh holds a 3.8/5 star average on Goodreads, with many criticizing the novel’s simple prose style. Indeed, István’s most commonly uttered phrases are “okay” and “I don’t know”. Often, his inability to emphasize or interpret his own emotions is completely frustrating, and his minimal dialogue leaves much to the reader’s imagination. On the other hand, this makes the reader’s experience ever more personal and unique. Between the sparing prose and one-line paragraphs is space to breathe and reflect. The ending is unresolved, with a bereaved István moving back to Hungary. 

Flesh is not a book for everyone. I, however, found it strangely hypnotic. Recently, a movie adaptation of the book has been announced. I can see plenty of scope for long, still shots of the brooding István pacing the streets — but I can only wish its scriptwriter the best of luck with the dialogue.

The post Flesh: From Rags-to-Riches appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Kat Setzer, the programming director of I+N, spoke to The Daily about this year’s festival, and the “pleasures and pains” that her role entails. Setzer, alongside programming director Charlie Boudreau, has been involved with I+N for 25 years, watching it grow from a small, “volunteer-run organization,” to a 38-year-old celebration.

Setzer first stumbled upon I+N when she first moved to Montreal for graduate school, when her own film was selected to be screened at the festival. Not really knowing “what a queer festival was,” she was immediately gripped by the novelty and inclusivity of the event, taking the entire ten days of the festival off school to attend screenings. Now, her role involves “finding the films of the year,” selecting from queer cinema both locally and nationally, and shaping the festival into “the beautiful thing it is today.”

I+N’s impressively varied program is a testament to the growing power and popularity of queer cinema in North America. This year, there is a focus on depictions of “Indigiqueer” experiences, exemplified by the festival’s opening film, Gail Maurice’s Blood Lines – a striking exploration of Métis community trauma, family, and romance.  

Other highlighted Indigiqueer films include the documentary Rising through the Fray , a fascinating exploration of an Indigenous roller derby team by local filmmaker Courtney Montour, Bretten Hannam’s supernatural thriller At the Place of Ghosts, and Starwalker, a drag comedy-musical directed by Corey Payette.

Additionally, Setzer reveals that I+N is hosting “the world premiere” of the much-anticipated TV show adaptation of Rachel Reid’s Heated Rivalry, which will later be officially released on Crave. Produced by Canadian director Jacob Tierney, the show brings Reid’s hockey romance book series Game Changers, popular on BookTok and beyond, to life. The first episode will premiere at I+N on November 23, and Reid herself plans to attend the festival.

Within I+N’s diverse program is the “Zeitgeist” category, “talking about films reflecting this current cultural moment”, Setzer notes, whether this be “good or bad”. Within this subset is Sophie Hyde’s Jimpa, the festival’s closing movie, starring John Lithgow as Jimpa and Olivia Colman as his daughter, Hannah. The film portrays a touching family story following Frances – Hannah’s child – as they discover their non-binary identity, and the tensions that arise when Frances wishes to stay with their grandfather in Amsterdam for a year. Jimpa is a favourite of Setzer’s, particularly due to Lithgow’s performance as an “absolutely flamboyant legendary gay man.”

A huge part of I+N’s purpose is to celebrate and capture the diversity within queer culture, spanning different countries, genders, identities, and “across so many intersectional lines.”, For example, this year’s short film category, “A Question of Gender,” spotlights trans and non-binary representation.

Another highlight is the “First Voices” category, featuring films from countries that are “less represented in a queer cinema canon,” including Greece’s standout Bearcave, winner of the Europa Cinema Label at the 2025 Venice Film Festival. According to Setzer, moving beyond a solely “traditional gay white male narrative” in queer cinema is essential for diversifying the queer canon.

Setzer’s favorites include Pillion, with Harry Melling and Alexander Skarsgård playing a humorous, unconventional pairing between a traffic officer and biker; Maspalomas, an important “representation of elder queers” from Spain; and Departures from the UK, which will be screened with French subtitles to “[facilitate] understanding of the actors’ English cockney accents,” Setzer jokes.

Furthermore, La Soirée Étudiante, an exciting new initiative which brings together emerging queer filmmakers from CEGEPs and universities in Quebec, will premiere on November 21. In addition to film screenings, La Soirée Étudiante is also a networking event: a chance for budding filmmakers to meet and connect with producers. This, along with I+N’s screenwriting initiative and mentorship program, fosters an ideal community for supporting new artists.

“I+N Connexe” is another program that contributes to the interactive, discussion-based side of the festival. It consists of two important projects that revolve around the queer history of Montreal and Quebec: L’émergence du Village Gai and GIV50. The former explores the emergence of Montreal’s Village – formerly called the “Gay Village” –  whilst the latter celebrates 50 years of Groupe Intervention Vidéo, a longstanding organization “dedicated to the preservation and promotion of media artworks by women.”

Remembering queer history is just as vital as telling stories of the present. It is only in the not-so-distant past, Setzer recalls, that I+N received “starkly little access” to government funding compared to other organizations. Though I+N is showing over 125 films this year, Setzer laments “a finite amount of international queer feature films” in the world. Despite growing interest in the genre, queer cinema is still a rarity in much of the world, underscoring the vital importance of organizations such as I+N in elevating these marginalized narratives.

For Setzer, it has been her “absolute joy to shape a Canadian queer cinema landscape.” “It’s a testament to tenacity that the festival is 38 years old,” she notes. In today’s climate, with rising animosity and hatred towards queer voices, cinema and art can become an “arsenal against hate.” 

Queer cinema is representation and “representations are power.” We cannot know what the future holds, but it is as important as ever to amplify and listen to queer voices. As Setzer states, “it is a political act to make a story about yourself and have it go on the screen.” Don’t miss out on the opportunity to see some wonderful, unmissable queer films from November 20 to 30.

Full programming and tickets can be found at: https://image-nation.org/festival-2025/en/

The post Image + Nation: Montreal’s Queer Film Festival appeared first on The McGill Daily.

The film opens in a classic picture-perfect American high school setting. The protagonist Megan (played by Natasha Lyonne,) is a star cheerleader with a jock boyfriend. All is well until alarm bells
begin to ring: a strong fascination with her fellow cheerleaders’ dancing, a repulsion towards kissing
her boyfriend, enjoyment for Melissa Etheridge’s music, and worst of all – she’s become vegetarian. This is all the evidence of lesbianism that her parents need to perform an intervention, shipping her off to True Directions, a conversion camp.

What ensues next at True Directions is a satiric, hilarious masterpiece. The camp is run by Mary Brown (Cathy Moriarty) and Mike (RuPaul), both entirely unconvincing “straight” leaders. The members embark on a journey aimed at leading them back to the “true” path of straightness. The boys learn
how to fix cars, while the girls learn to clean and cook — the satirical performance being a clear critique of the artificiality of traditional gender norms. Meanwhile, Megan meets Graham (Clea DuVall), her roommate and surly polar opposite, who it is clear she will fall for.

At the turn of the century, queer films, let alone lesbian films, were pretty rare. But, for director Babbit, the film was aimed to be “a gay Clueless,” serving as a light-hearted comedy amidst the AIDS crisis. “Comedy was important because if you don’t laugh, you’re crying,” said Babbit in an interview with the BBC, with queer films at the time often being arthouse and bleak. Despite its campy, comedic elements, But I’m a Cheerleader still tackles very real issues pertinent to the queer community: conversion therapy, rejection by parents, identity struggle, and self-acceptance. The film is a classic not only because it’s a comedy, but also because it stands for so much more.

In the cinematic climate of Fight Club, The Matrix, and American Psycho, But I’m a Cheerleader was an obvious outlier. Despite a lack of overtly sexual scenes or vile language, the film was originally rated at NC-17 (for adults only), forcing Babbit to cut scenes to make it more appropriate — unsurprising at a time when gay marriage was yet to be legalized. The film easily could have faded to the background, in a culture dominated by thriller, macho films. However, it has only grown in popularity.

It’s relatable, it’s funny, and it’s truly ridiculous. The characters have stand-out pink and blue costumes, alongside a great soundtrack, truly encapsulating what “camp” is. Heteronormative society and gender stereotypes are playfully questioned, interrogating what is considered normal. Ultimately, Babbit shows us that normal is whatever you want it to be — a message that continues to resonate today, within and beyond queer communities.

While But I’m a Cheerleader isn’t a critically-acclaimed cinematic sensation, it captures the hearts of the queer community. But I’m a Cheerleader makes you feel part of something bigger than you, and is the perfect watch as Queer History Month draws to a close.

The post But I’m A Cheerleader appeared first on The McGill Daily.