Tangerine (2015, R)

I’m putting this film with the other #OscarsSoWhite movies I’ve watched lately, though I don’t think it would have been a likely contender regardless of the main characters’ races.  It’s too small, too meandering, and too vulgar – while Oscar films can be any of these things, it’s rare to find one that’s all three.  However, I heard positive things about it and really wanted to see it, particularly since a movie starring trans actresses of color seemed like a really satisfying answer to (the, naturally, nominated) Eddie Redmayne playing a trans woman in The Danish Girl.

Tangerine follows a pair of sex workers through a tumultuous Christmas Eve in L.A.  Sin-Dee, fresh out of jail, has just learned that her boyfriend/pimp cheated on her while she was away.  Not remotely one to bottle her feelings, she’s on the warpath to find him and/or the “real fish” (i.e., cisgender woman) who’s been knocking boots with him.  Her best friend Alexandra tries to be supportive, but she’s dreading Sin-Dee’s flair for drama, and besides, she has her own concerns to be thinking about – her first onstage musical performance at a bar later that evening.

I don’t think this is quite the film for me, although that’s not down to its quality.  Instead, it’s more a matter of sensibility.  It’s a very “roll with what’s happening” movie, following Sin-Dee and Alexandra throughout their day.  That’s frequently outrageous, sometimes gross, sometimes trashy, occasionally humdrum, always serpentine.  While it has a definite throughline of Sin-Dee wanting to find and confront her boyfriend, the plot wanders toward it rather than building up to it.  It’s a super-indie trait that I can find tiresome when it’s sustained over a full movie.

But that’s why I didn’t connect with it.  I know many like that style, and I’d say the film does it pretty well.  Plus, while my attention wavered on the characters’ journeys, I enjoy the characters themselves.  Sin-Dee can be a self-involved piece of work with a hair-trigger temper, but she’s also funny, resourceful, and more vulnerable than she lets on.  Alexandra’s long-suffering support for her friend ranges from amusing to sweet, and I like her no-nonsense attitude.

And yeah, I love that these trans characters are played by trans actresses.  Neither Kitana Kiki Rodriguez (Sin-Dee) or Mya Taylor (Alexandra) had screen experience before this film, but both give spirited, naturalistic performances that embody their roles to a tee.  One thing I’ve realized about cis actors playing trans is that, for me, part of my attention is always on how well they play trans.  Never mind the character’s personality or emotions; there’s always a part of my brain going, “How’re they doing?  Can I buy that?  Is this portrayal respectful?”  But it shouldn’t be like that.  When I watch Jennifer Lawrence, I don’t think, “She’s great at playing a woman,” and Chiwetel Ejiofor’s films don’t make me muse, “He’s so believable as a Black man.”  Binary gender is understood, race is understood (though not as much as it really needs to be.)  Genders outside of cis-male and cis-female should be as well (along with disability, more consistently.)  Then, like here, we can get straight to looking at the nuances of the characters instead of concentrating on how the performer handles groundwork that ought to be background detail.

Warnings

Sexual content (including multiple sex scenes, solicitation, and some nudity,) violence, language (including transphobic and homophobic slurs,) drinking, smoking, and drug use.