STEPHEN ISAAC WILSON.

The LGBTQ director on bringing queer, under-represented stories to the forefront of British film.

When, or why, did you first get into filmmaking?

I always loved TV and film growing up - I was quite shy and antisocial. Maybe because I’m dyslexic, but I think they’re both quite democratic forms of storytelling. While at university, I had time and access to watch great forms documentaries and cinema, and after graduation I got offered a job at the BBC.

Where does your inspiration usually come from?

Loads of places: books, films, photography, art, music, history and my life as a black gay man.

So how did your new documentary, Queer Raving in Manchester’s Twilight Zone, come about?

I came across an article about Homo Electric late last year and was in complete awe and also so shocked that I’d never heard about this night before. At the time, with the exception of a handful of nights, I was also getting quite bored of queer nightlife in London. After doing some research, pondering the idea some and thinking about my own relationship with nightlife, I pitched the idea to Boiler Room who were up for making it happen.

Was it difficult to find all the vintage footage and people to interview?

Abigail Ward, one of our contributors, curated an online exhibition called Queer Noise last year and it was a great source of archive for this project. She helped us get in contact with the material owners and was a real help. The archive really helped us reimagine our narrative arch and bring to life all the conversations and research we were conducting. Like all the contributors, the footage owners were really up for being part of our film and sharing their stories.

Most people would think of cities like London or NYC when it comes to queer nightlife, but what makes Manchester so special?

A lot of the contributors speak about queer nightlife in Manchester being very intergenerational, and as a result less superficial and a more accepting safe. Everyone seemed to know about their city’s queer clubbing and political history, and had a great respect for DJs and promoters of the past. Nightlife moves quite fast in London and NYC so it can make things feel sterile and impersonal. Manchester’s ability to fade out the background noise is what makes it special.

Why do you think queer people – both now and historically – gravitate towards nightlife so much?

For many, nightlife allows them a chance to be their most authentic selves, with partying working as a form of therapy. For queer people it can also offer a temporary escape from everyday life. An opportunity to experiment, be messy and feel good. Even in LGBTQ locations – which you’d expect to be bastions of individuality – there can often be an expectation to look and behave in a certain way.

What’s the importance of having alternative spaces where this isn’t the case?

Partying and attending nightclubs should never be something that makes you feel inferior, and unfortunately that can be the case in mainstream and even alternative spaces. It’s important for everyone be have a chance to be their most authentic selves, and surrounded by people who fully accept them.

And the film has been released 30 years on from the implementation of Section 28... The 30 years mark was a chance for all of us to look back and discuss the amazing, but incremental, political and social changes that have occurred in the UK since the 80s. Due to the work of campaigners, activists and allies changes in law such as the repealment of Section 28, the induction of same-sex marriage and legal protection for transgender people have helped improve many lives in UK. However, there’s obviously still a really long way to go until full acceptance is reached, in particular for our most vulnerable in the community, black trans women, and in the areas of sexual and mental health, drug abuse and homelessness.

You produced a documentary with Mykki Blanco about queer artists in Johannesburg last year. Why was that project so important to you?

I came up with and developed this film idea because I was interested in exploring the idea of black queerness outside of a UK or US context. It was a chance to reach out, meet and connect with inspiring black bodies that had similar, but incredibly different lived experiences to myself. The whole experience was quite overwhelming, and one that I’ll remember.

Do you think there’s enough representation for LGBTQ people, and particularly LGBTQ people of colour, in mainstream media?

Definitely not. However in a way, I’m more interested in the beautiful black queer moments happening currently all over the fringes.