Always chose yourself – even if it means you end up alone
Non-binary British-Iraqi filmmaker and drag artist Amrou Al-Kadhi makes his vivid and exuberant feature debut with Layla. Set in London’s glittery drag scene, the film centers on the titular non-binary performer (played with natural charisma by newcomer Bilal Hasna). As they fall for a strait-laced businessman, they find themselves caught between self-fulfillment and cultural heritage, love and autonomy, visibility and safety. What unfolds is part queer love story, part drag musical, part family drama. First-time director Al-Kahdi occasionally struggles to juggle all these themes. Nevertheless, his appealing mix of drama and comedy delivers a relevant reclamation of selfhood in the face of romantic and societal pressure.
In the queer nightclub “Feathers” Layla is a glamorous and confident presence. Offstage, they even resort to their deadname, Latif to fit in with their traditional Palestinian Muslim family. At a disastrous pinkwashing event, they meet the tentative white Max (Louis Greatorex). Their passionate romance brings tension. Max hesitates to publicly embrace Layla’s flamboyant drag persona, and when meeting his square biological family. A deeply offended Layla increasingly questions whether assimilated love is true love. Their difficult family relationship further exemplifies the demands of traditionalist expectations. Amid this multifaced identity conflict, the stage becomes the only space where Layla feels wholly seen.
Whether on stage lip-syncing Arabic pop or alone at home clipping off their nail extensions: Hasna is the luminous core of this film. Their portrayal is electric in navigating the many dualities of their protagonist: glamorous and vulnerable, outspoken and withdrawn. Greatorex gives his thinly written character a mix of charm and social clumsiness. However, why Layla can’t resist him remains a riddle. Their romance mostly exists to illustrate the limits of liberal acceptance. Max mirrors everyday liberal white complacency. From the beginning, unspoken bias taints their relationship. Unfortunately, the story never gets to the core of this uneven union. On the other hand, the queer community grounding Layla highlights the importance of chosen family.
Al-Kadhi’s screenplay, co-written by producers Jess Dempsey and Savannah James-Bayly, falters during more didactic moments. Tension simply evaporates instead of being confronted. The plot clings too closely to familiar romance beats: meet cute, bonding, crisis, breakup, awakening. Al-Kadhi is more in their element when bringing their own drag background into the aesthetic style. Color, light, and rhythm serve as emotional cues. Saturated neons empower the dramatic drag scenes. Cooler, washed-out palettes signal moments of personal conflict. Western pop, Middle Eastern melodies, and electro-drag anthems blend to mirror Layla’s hybrid identity. Conveniently, this soundtrack also delivers an easily accessible listening experience for mainstream audiences.
Tinsel, long fake lashes, stripper heels, and wild hairpieces: the film’s costumes and make-up are a visual feast. Cinematographer Craig Dean Devine and costume designer Cobbie Yates create a world that’s joyous and flamboyant, though a tad clichéd. These moments provide a vivacious contrast to the grey uniformity of Max’s corporate and family environments. This mostly white, straight world is literally much more muted and monochrome. This stylistic shift underscores the couple’s emotional difference. Drag in Layla isn’t merely performative but political, and healing. Layla’s stage shows embody defiance and catharsis. Often, they communicate more than the somewhat glib dialogue. Similarly, their gender fluidity is their truth and demands to be lived.
This uplifting message is undermined by the shared middle-class privileges of all characters. It’s not so easy to break off family ties, romances, and employments if one economically depends on them. Slight flaws ultimately make Layla as messy and genuine as its titular hero: an amiable, if oversimplified queer coming-of-age story.
- OT: Layla
- Director: Amrou Al-Kadhi
- Year: 2024
