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Cuir Pride is more than a screening. It’s a political gesture and a meeting point for the Latin American “cuir” community in Berlin. A space to find each other, share our stories and build networks through cinema.
To say cuir, not queer, is to reclaim a word from the South, from migration, from our own bodies, desires and memories. The fourth wave of feminism takes up the struggle of LGBTQ+ and FLINTA+ artists who were silenced, marginalized or erased from the big screen and makes room for the new voices making their mark in film.
Because our images matter, now more than ever, as a rising right tries to deny our existence again. Because seeing ourselves together in a cinema is still a form of resistance. We share, we educate and we bring visibility to cuir and FLINTA+ filmmakers from Latin America.
Against forgetting. Against hate.
By those who came before, for those who come after.
Curatorial Statement
To say cuir [queer] is to dispute a word loaded with colonialism: it is to reappropriate the insult and make it our banner from the South, from migration, from our bodies, desires, and memories. And because letting others name us means letting others tell our stories. We are here to tell our own stories: seeing each other together in a movie theater continues to be a form of resistance.
This year’s selection traces a chronology. We come out of the closet to shout that we are here, and we search for family: are they with me or not? The family of origin sometimes sustains us and sometimes expels us; the cuir family, the one we choose, puts us back together when the other fails. Then comes the search for our role models, those who prove that this life has already been lived before, that there is genealogy and not loneliness. And the debt that ignites us: to fight for those who carried the memory of when everything was forbidden AND for those who are to come.
And at the end is what they most want to deny us: happiness. After coming out, searching, and fighting, what remains is understanding that we can also be happy, that we deserve it. As Celeste Carballo sings: “I am what I am, and I don’t have to make excuses for that. I harm no one, no one, no one. The sun shines just the same for me and for them.”
We are not going to apologize for our existence, nor are we going to pretend just to please anyone. They want to extinguish us, but how do you put out the light of a cuir person?
You can’t. We came to shine, whether they like it or not.
We are never going back to the closet!
Gabriela Gioia