The best documentaries about the LGBTQ+ experience

The intersex community doesn’t often attract as much attention as the other letters of the queer alphabet, but they are nevertheless an important part of the broader community. The highly regarded documentary Every Body introduces the viewer to the experiences of intersex people, both their joys and setbacks, particularly when it comes to the way they tend to be treated by those in the medical community. Like many other queer documentaries, it doubles as a call to action, reminding the audience that in truth and collective, there is a remarkable and undeniable power.

Gay men’s choruses have long played a key role in the community, bringing joy to audiences and reminding them of the power of music. As one might gather from the title, the film focuses on the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus and the Oakland Interfaith Gospel Choir as they travel to various states in the American South. It’s the type of documentary that makes the viewer think differently about the world, and it offers a unique perspective on how it is possible to speak across differences, even as it also shines a light on the prejudice that all too often lurks beneath Southern hospitality. 

The late Howard Ashman was one of the most important figures at Disney during the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, and he played a key role in the success of such films as The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, and, lastly, Aladdin, though he sadly passed away from AIDS before the latter was finished. Howard is a moving portrait of one of the great musical and artistic minds of the late 20th century. It expertly balances its various emotional registers, allowing the viewer to celebrate Ashman’s creative genius while also mourning his premature death.

From rather humble beginnings, Pride has become a true celebration of queer life and struggle and survival, and the documentary series Pride serves as a useful introduction to this cultural and political phenomenon. The series begins in the 1950s and moves up to the present, showing how the contours of what Pride means have changed over the years. It thus makes for a powerful and often poignant reminder of just how far queer rights have come over the past three-quarters of a century and how much is still to be done.

Just as The Celluloid Closet provided viewers with a fascinating portrait of the representation of queer people in movies, Visible: Out on Television used its five episodes to show how far television has come when it comes to LGBTQ+ issues. As with so many other documentaries of this type, Visible demonstrates just how radically things have changed for queer people in a relatively short period. Moreover, it demonstrates the extent to which TV has been and continues to be a source of joy for many LGBTQ+ audiences.

Jonathan Caouette’s haunting, beautiful, and tragic 2004 film Tarnation is a work of tremendous and unflinching self-exploration. Via a compilation of home videos and candid interviews, Caouette draws out the intricacies and fraught dynamics of both his own upbringing and the rest of his family. Of particular note is his mother, Renee, who has long struggled with mental illness. Like many other such films, it is sometimes difficult to watch, but, at root, it remains a remarkable piece of queer filmmaking and a testament to the undying love of a son for his troubled mother.

Even as AIDS cut a horrifying swathe through the gay community in the 1980s, some fought back against the negligence of the government and the medical establishment. Their story is relayed in the comprehensive and richly-told documentary How to Survive a Plague. It focuses in particular on the groups of ACT UP and TAG, both of which were crucial in raising awareness of the epidemic and its terrible toll. The documentary has only become more powerful and relevant in the aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic and its disastrous response.

Few stars of classic Hollywood were as beloved or successful as Rock Hudson. As has become clear since he died in the 1980s, he lived a double life, playing a straight heartthrob on the big screen while being gay in his private life. Rock Hudson: All That Heaven Allowed details the late star’s contradictory persona, but, remarkably, the film leaves the viewer with the impression that he carved out a form of happiness even though he could never be openly who he truly was.

Featuring interviews with a number of notable gay men, including Dan Savage, George Takei, and David Sedaris, the aptly titled Do I Sound Gay? explores how gay men often internalize homophobia, in particular regarding their voices. It’s fascinating in part because this is an issue with which many gay men are familiar. Moreover, it also illustrates the extent to which cultural stereotypes often influence the ways that queer folks understand themselves and their sense of their own identity, for better and for worse. After all, few things are more intimately tied to a person than their voice. It makes sense that so many gay men would be ambivalent about how they present themselves to others.

The recently released short documentary I Went to the Smallest Pride in America! was produced by noted influencer Chris Stanley, who traveled to Morgantown, West Virginia to interview those involved with the small town’s Pride Parade. Though only a little over twenty minutes long, it demonstrates the extent to which such smaller Pride festivals serve as an important lifeline to those outside major urban centers. Stanley avoids reductive tropes in his pursuit of the story, instead making the wise choice of letting the locals speak for themselves.

Hailed as one of the best films of 2021, Flee blends biography, animation, and documentary to tell the story of Amin, a gay Afghani refugee who escapes from Afghanistan to Denmark. It’s a haunting and beautiful film, a testament to Amin’s ability to survive — and sometimes even to thrive — despite the many odds that are stacked against him. In addition to shining light on the unique struggles of LGBTQ+ refugees, Flee is also a landmark in animation, showcasing the extent to which the form can be used to tell stories that are just as haunting and memorable as their live-action counterparts.

Like Paris is Burning, Kokomo City draws important and needed attention to an oft-neglected subculture, in this case, Black trans sex workers. The documentary utilizes an unflinching and bluntly honest style, often allowing the women to speak for and about themselves, offering a perspective on their lives and circumstances. Avoiding the tragedy and melodrama that often accompanies these types of stories, the film is instead powerfully and bluntly honest about the intersections of race, gender, and sexuality in America. Beautiful in both form and execution, Kokomo City is a landmark piece of documentary queer filmmaking.

The late Marlon Riggs was one of the most powerful and inspired documentarians of his generation, and his death from AIDS-related complications in 1994 was a loss for the LGBTQ+ community and the documentary world. Tongues Untied is one of his most personal and haunting films, focusing as it does on Black gay identity. Riggs largely eschews traditional documentary objectivity in favor of a bluntly subjective point of view, and it’s this emphasis on the personal that grants this documentary its extraordinary and enduring power.

Throughout his career, Isaac Julien has demonstrated that he is a unique cinematic voice. His films are often lyrical, experimental, and beautiful, none more than Looking for Langston. As its title suggests, it foregrounds Langston Hughes and other Black queer creatives and intellectuals of the Harlem Renaissance. It remains a powerful film to this day and, as a celebration of the love between and among Black queer men, it is a corrective to a narrative that so often foregrounds whiteness and white men in the history of gay subjectivity. 

The late Harvey Milk was undoubtedly one of the most important figures in the gay rights movement, and his tragic murder in 1978 sent shockwaves through the community. The Times of Harvey Milk, released in 1984, shines an important and necessary light on his career as an activist and a politician, giving the gay people of San Francisco the voice they’d lacked before. The film is moving on its own terms, but it’s also an important historical document, a reminder of how much has been gained in the struggle for acceptance and gay rights and how many battles are still left to fight.

There’s something uniquely haunting about Portrait of Jason, the avant-garde documentary directed by Shirley Clarke. The film is essentially an extended interview with hustler and cabaret performer Jason Holliday, who offers a frank discussion of his life, even as the director and Carl Lee continue to ask increasingly confrontational questions. It’s a fascinating film in many ways, for it not only seeks to shine a light on its subject but also calls into question the very act of filmmaking itself.

Jennie Livingston’s Paris is Burning remains one of the most influential and highly regarded LGBTQ+ documentaries ever made, and it’s easy to see why. Its focus on New York City’s ball culture — and particularly of the BIPOC people who find in it a source of strength and survival — retains its power, particularly in an age in which anti-trans sentiment is on the rise in the US and abroad. Though the film certainly isn’t without its controversies, it is still an important portrait of a distinct period in LGBTQ+ history, and it continues to have influence, most notably in the FX series Pose. 

The AIDS crisis was one of the defining tragedies of the late 20th century, scarring an entire generation of gay men and taking many far too long. We Were Here focuses in particular on how the epidemic affected the city of San Francisco, which, as a hub of gay life and culture, was particularly hard hit during the worst days of the crisis. It’s a documentary that is sometimes very difficult to watch, but for this reason, it is all the more vital. It is a testament to the strength of those who survived and a memorial to those who tragically did not.

Based on Vito Russo’s insightful book about the history of gay and lesbian representation in the movies, The Celluloid Closet features several fascinating interviews. As such, it’s an invaluable contribution to an understanding of the history of Hollywood and the roles that LGBTQ+ people have played in the industry — in front of the camera and behind it — since its beginnings. It remains a bracing look at how far movies and American culture have come and how far they have yet to go.

Released in 2001, Southern Comfort focuses on transgender man Robert Eads and his attempts to get treatment for ovarian cancer. However, as the documentary demonstrates, he ultimately becomes a victim of a medical industry that cared (and often cares) more about its reputation than its patients. The documentary showcases the joy and sorrows of Eads’ life, and as such, it also brings home in a uniquely powerful way the many struggles that trans people face as they try to procure the medical care that often could mean the difference between life and death.