Cause Célèbre: A Short History of Trans People at the oscars

Holly Woodlawn photographed in 1970

The way people bristle at the Oscars and so-called ‘Academy politics’ are not without merit. The history of the Oscars does not, and should not, tell the whole story of American film history, let alone world film history. The Oscars are less a national referendum on the state of the film industry and closer to the electoral structure of the Iowa Caucuses, in terms of quirks and selections made by a small, privileged group of voters. Rarely an objectively great film wins. The Best Picture winner is more tied to recency bias of ‘the last good movie’ the members of the voting committee have seen due to media blitzes and publicity campaigns by the competing film studios. When considering what gets platformed as “Oscar-worthy,” one must keep in mind that much of the struggle is for films to simply get their foot in the door and be noticed. This is especially the case with trans narratives. 

Trans rights in the United States are in the midst of being targeted by the second Trump administration’s rapid succession of executive orders, a barrage of reversals and denials that are celebrated by the American right-wing. Such dark times make the significance of recent trans narratives like The People’s Joker and I Saw the TV Glow feel all the more of a respite. Then there is the “cause célèbre” of Jacques Audiard’s musical crime melodrama Emilia Perez. In addition to the film netting the most Oscar nominations this year (13), its lead Karla Sofía Gascón became the first trans actress nominated for Best Actress in a Leading Role. But compared to more digestible liberal pablum like the Oscar-winning Chilean film A Fantastic Woman (2017), which was nonetheless an effective showcase for the talents of trans actress Daniela Vega, who plays a trans woman rocked by the death of her male lover, Emilia Perez has gotten polarized responses from the trans community. This is largely due to the perception around the film as a playground of trans stereotypes, with the eponymous Emilia living a double-life and trying to outrun her violent, murderous past as a Mexican drug lord after medically transitioning. Then came the numerous revelations of racism, ableism, and islamophobia from Gascón’s past social media posts, that have quite possibly jeopardized the film’s Best Picture prospects. The fallout surrounding Gascón’s social media could also function like a meta-critique on Emilia Perez; a film that awkwardly and unconvincingly tries to humanize its trans protagonist—treated with utmost valor in her efforts to make amends for her crimes—that ultimately gets unmasked as vacuous pandering by Gascón’s real life ‘trans villain reveal.’ It underscored just how cynical and insincere the whole endeavor has come across to the trans community…but Emilia Perez may still win Oscars. The relationship between the trans community and the Oscars has long been a cumbersome one. However, there are significant figures and films tied to the trans film image and trans cinematic cultural production that have their own place in Oscars history. 

Daniela Vega in A Fantastic Woman (2017)

Often at the margins of popular culture and society at-large, trans film images were most visibly utilized by Hollywood to present a ‘challenging’ acting role. Transness on-screen has consistently been over-represented by cis male actors in dresses and wigs and cis female actresses wearing chest binders and butch haircuts. Such performances get Oscar nominated, and even win, but Warhol superstar Holly Woodlawn was the first trans actress to campaign to be nominated for Best Supporting Actress for her role as a cis woman in Paul Morrissey’s Trash (1970). Her grassroots Oscar campaign, which included collectible pins and promotional photoshoots, got the attention of Oscar winners like My Fair Lady director George Cukor. But alas, she did not secure the nomination. Still, the 1970s were a time where films with trans subject matter were getting attention from the Academy. While Sidney Lumet’s Dog Day Afternoon (1975) and its “ripped from the headlines” tale of a bank robber seeking to fund his lover’s sex change operation was seen as a hallmark of 1970s cinema, it was predated by the Spanish film Mi Querida Senorita (1972), which was nominated for Best Foreign Language film. Mi Querida Senorita is about a provincial spinster who transitions into a man and seeks romance with his former maid (played by Pedro Almodóvar regular Julieta Serrano). The film, despite being a precursor to the work of Almodóvar, has been strangely lost to time. 

Julieta Serrano and José Luis López Vázquez in Mi querida Senorita (1972)

In the last decade, non-binary and trans performers like Mica Levi and Anohni have been nominated for Original Score and Original Song, but Angela Morley, also known for her collaborations with avant-garde pop musician and composer Scott Walker, was the first known trans individual nominated for her contributions on the scores for The Little Prince (1974) and The Slipper and The Rose: The Story of Cinderella (1976). Morley continued to work in film and television as a conductor and composer, netting three Emmy Awards. Morley and the great electronic musician Wendy Carlos have been hailed for their ‘below the line’ contributions to music in film, illustrating that trans labor in film production extends beyond what is in front of the camera. As for the question of direct representation, trans people have often turned to documentary films over scripted narratives to present their lives more authentically. But historically, and somewhat surprisingly, the Documentary Feature category severely lacks trans representation. 

Despite the fact that Jennie Livingston’s Paris is Burning (1990) is canonized as one of the great documentaries, it was not nominated. Also not nominated was Kate Davis’s award-winning Southern Comfort (2001), about cancer-ridden trans man Robert Eads. This makes Yance Ford’s Oscar nominated Strong Island (2017), which was the first time a trans person was nominated in the Documentary Feature category, all the more powerful to consider. Strong Island is Ford’s meditation on the injustice of his brother’s murder, and his approach to confronting the systemic racism of where he grew up, featuring striking close-ups of his face and direct addresses to the viewer. In times where state and reactionary violence are fueled by not only the contemporary American administration, but oppressive far-right initiatives across the globe, speaking out on injustice in this confrontational manner might be how trans non-fiction will unfold in these upcoming years. 

Strong Island (2017)

Even before the Gascón controversy, I believed that Emilia Perez could not have been released at a worse time, airing on Netflix after a Presidential election that saw unprecedented and highly coordinated attacks against trans people in national ad campaigns. Now, amid the immediate impacts of Project 2025 and anti-trans executive orders, the film feels even more radioactive. Yet, I find myself less invested in whether or not it wins anything. It would make sense for the same organization that honored Green Book (2018) and Crash (2004) to also reward Emilia Perez. Still, it says something that—even by accident—trans film images, subject matter, and labor were recognized by this complicated institution dating back to the 1970s. Trans people have always been part of the story of film, in both narrative and production. Whether or not the Academy recognizes those contributions, trans cinematic cultural production will continue, much like trans life continues despite and against this rising current of fascist transphobia. 

Caden Mark Gardner is a film critic from Upstate New York whose work has appeared on Film Comment, the Criterion Collection, MUBI and Los Angeles Review of Books. He is the co-author of Corpses, Fools and Monsters: The History and Future of Transness in Cinema.