Emma Hough Hobbs and Leela Varghese rocket past convention with glitter and grit in a dazzling blend of camp and cosmic rebellion
It’s hard to make a film as fun, snappy, luminous, and queer as the title Lesbian Space Princess sounds. But Emma Hough Hobbs and Leela Varghese pull it off. The Australian directors’ debut feature is a radical, rebellious entry into the animated sci-fi canon that both satirizes and reclaims genre clichés. Set against the rainbow-toned backdrop of Clitopolis, a lesbian utopia, the hyper-saturated musical adventure follows Princess Saira (voiced with aching charm by Shabana Azeez). As her endlessly cool and equally vain ex-girlfriend Kiki gets kidnapped by the straight white Maliens, Saira must come to the rescue. This mission, of course, is also a lot about self-actualization and confidence.
The narrative moves with anarchic energy, structured around a ticking 24-hour countdown. To free Kiki, Saira must somehow materialize an iconic weapon (it’s a labrys because – what else?). So she navigates the cosmos on board a sentient, square AI spaceship named Problematic (Richard Roxburgh), encountering a drag diva arms-dealer and a queer pop singer in exile (Gemma Chua-Tran). This non-binary bisexual musician named Willow sparks an instant chemistry with Saira. Willow’s mellow acoustic songs double as narrator, highlighting Saira’s many insecurities and sometimes providing amusing exposition. Beneath the neon-colored veneer of a camped-up space romp lies a tender exploration of identity, insecurity, and love, both romantic and platonic.
Visually, Lesbian Space Princess fuses nostalgia with aesthetic rebellion. While the handcrafted 2D animation sometimes reveals the shoestring budget, this self-made look only increases the film’s heartfelt sincerity and artistic ambition. Jagged starfields, glitchy rainbow voids, and lots of amusing background posters embrace maximalism and a deliberately chaotic style. The character designs are drawn with exaggerated flair, reminiscent of underground zines and the early 2000s internet art: not afraid to be awkward and messy. Every scene vibrates with bright color schemes that shift mood like mood rings: sugary pinks, acidic greens, bruised purples. It doesn’t care about cohesion in the traditional sense. The style is as emotionally reactive as its introverted heroine.
Visual metaphors become literal. Emotional states materializing as cosmic storms or romantic tension as planetary gravity. The fluidity of the animation is matched by an editing rhythm that’s closer to a music video than a traditional narrative film. Rapid cuts, lyrical fades, and sudden visual ruptures all play a part in its expressive grammar. Michael Darren’s electro-pop-infused score pulses with playful energy as it propels characters through psychic flashbacks and choreographed combat. The songs, often ironically simplistic and unabashedly childlike, are weirdly catchy. Yet, there is actual emotional depth and character development underneath all the glitz. Even in her rainbow cosmos, Saira suffers from parental pressure to be more sociable and popular.
Her parents also subtly push her to be more amatonormative – something which is rarely brought up in any context, and even rarer to be criticized. Especially in light of this timely critique, it’s one of the few letdowns that there is no ace representation. An integral part of the progressive message is that Saira doesn’t need a romantic relationship to prove her worth. Though the visuals, style, and color scheme are wild and loud, the story emphasizes that being withdrawn is just fine, too. At its heart, the fluorescent adventure is still about being true to oneself, beyond gender and sexual orientation.
- OT: Lesbian Space Princess
- Director: Emma Hough Hobbs, Leela Varghese
- Year: 2025
