Lesbian Space Princess is the Australian film of the moment. This Adelaide-made animated film follows Saira (Shabana Azeez) as she traipses across the galaxy to save her ex-Kiki (Bernie Van Tiel) from the horrid Straight White Maliens (Aunty Donna). On her journey, Saira encounters Blade, a initially appears safe, but quickly turns villainous.
Blade is voiced by Ru Paul’s Drag Race Down Under star Kween Kong, with the luminous drag queen voicing making her voice acting debut. In the following interview, Kween talks about that transition from live performing to voice acting, what growing up in Adelaide alongside co-director and writer Leela Varghese was like, and what her drag queen awakening experience was like.
Lesbian Space Princess is in Australian cinemas right now.
Follow Kween Kong on Instagram here.
This interview has been edited for clarity and conciseness.
Screening or Streaming Availability:
I saw the premiere at the Adelaide Film Festival. It was just an electric experience. I've been riding that high ever since. Congratulations.
Kween Kong: I only recently saw it at the Melbourne International Film Festival. I was so blown away. I completely forgot we had what we had made. Seeing it in the flesh was such an amazing experience and especially seeing it with a room full of just absolute weirdos.
When did you record your lines?
KK: It's been about two and a half years since we filmed. We literally did a day and a half in the studio in Adelaide. I completely forgot what we had made until watching it back. I was like, ‘Oh, that's right, I'm the villain!’ I completely forgot, so as we were watching it in real time, I was remembering what we had made. It was so much fun.
This is your first step into voice work. What was the transition from live performing to performing in a booth like?
KK: Oh my goodness, it was equally as fun. I think you couldn't tell me that I wasn't on stage, because I was putting a big performance on the loop. Honestly, I tell you, I worked up a sweat, as I normally would on stage. I got out of breath a couple of times. It was definitely a visceral experience.
Leela created this incredible film with her beautiful partner. Before I did Drag Race and my platform kind of blew up, both me and Leela came from the Adelaide Fringe circuit. We've spent many drunken nights at the artist bar at Adelaide fringe; we spoke about what our dreams were and what we'd love to see. I remember telling her after I did my first season of Drag Race that I really want to play a villain. “I think it'd be so much fun.”
When she started writing the script, she said, ‘Oh, I've got this idea. It's this drag character that I think you'd be perfect for, but it's a villain.’ And I went, ‘Ah! Sign me up.’ It's just such a departure from who I am as a person, but also as Kween Kong. Kween is like a mother, so being able to play this kind of evil version of a drag character and being able to have a little bit of fun and revel and the act of violence against the lesbians was really fun.
I know you've talked about Blade being an extension of Kween in some capacity, but I'm curious about where Kween ends and Blade begins.
KK: I feel like Kween is like the angel on the shoulder and Blade is the opposite, the one that wants to tear everything apart and say and do the worst things. When Leela and I were talking about the character, we did a bit of character development and she said “in my mind, Blade represents the drag queen that's been at the RSL for a long time, that's been doing the same trivia night for 20 plus years. They’re a little bit cynical and bitter, [and are] definitely politically incorrect in their sense of humour. It's definitely that Auntie in the club that people like worried about what's going to come out of her mouth. I had a bunch of references in terms of queens that I know. I won't name them because they'll probably sue me, but I definitely had some references.
When you read the script for the first time, what was the experience like knowing that this was the kind of character that you were going to be playing?
KK: It was really exciting. But I think the biggest feeling I felt initially was just how proud I was of Leela and Emma. Not only for bringing this into fruition but doing it together as a couple.
Naturally, it started with the Adelaide Film Festival; that's where we got our big funding to start the initial seed idea. Because [we] come from the independent, rebellious Adelaide fringe world [where] we took our own risks in terms of putting on our shows. They were always out of our own pocket. You rely on the box office of generous patrons to pay your rent and your mortgage and so knowing that she was doing something that she talked about for a while really made me proud when I read the script.
I thought it was brilliant reading all the characters and obviously reading my character. I loved the polarity of what they did in reading how the function of the drag character was going to be a little bit bent, because I think naturally people would expect Kween or the drag queen in the movie to be the uplifting one that really mothers and guides the protagonist.
Then also, specifically with the Straight White Maliens, you would assume they would be the villains, and in some ways they were, but you see this complete character arc that makes them lovable, but also makes them so ridiculous that it really encourages our queer community specifically to laugh at some of the bullshit that these people say. It is very offensive, I think it's peppered 30% offensive, 70% hilarious, but when you see it in the dystopian world of a comedy, cartoon action movie, rather than get offended it really gives you license to see the ridiculousness of some of the rhetoric that is not only said in the movie, but is said literally outside our doors.
I loved the approach, and especially seeing it from our lesbian community, who doesn't get as much light. I loved being guided by that experience. I was really excited and very proud of them.
To me, the Straight White Maliens is just one example of Emma and Leela taking a huge risk in the story that they're telling. Then outside of the narrative, this is the first feature length animated film from South Australia, which is phenomenal. All these things add to the big risk the film is, and it pays off so, so well. Did it feel like a risk when you say, “Yes, I'm jumping on board”?
KK: I lived in Adelaide for a long time, and I think the beautiful thing about being in Adelaide and living there during Adelaide Fringe and lots of other independent festivals that are led by artists is your intention is protest and also to speak on the times. You really prioritise those two things. When you come up not in mainstream spaces and you're used to leading with truth, I think you have excitement when it comes to something that could be risky.
So when I read the scripts after doing Drag Race, I was really excited, because at that point I was thrust into this mainstream world, and I was doing a lot of big mainstream gigs, which for me, I kind of lost a little bit of my reason why I started. A lot of the reasons I do the things that I do is about protest, and so being in those spaces, there wasn't much room to speak about those things unless they were offering me space to speak. Normally I was just showing up to look pretty and collect a large pay check.
I think it's important to have projects that are not for everyone, so when I read the script and realised the kind of impact it could have specifically for the community that it's for, that was one of the things that I loved. This wasn't trying to be a people pleasing film. This was definitely a film for a specific demographic, and it's open to people to interpret and love it or not, but regardless of whether they love it or hate it, it didn't matter: it was happening.
You mentioned Adelaide. I was there last year and it was phenomenal. It was my first time in about 20 years, so my experience of being there had changed a lot, and I got to see this fantastic city that has changed over the years. It's become this beautiful place of artists and creativity. People tend to fly over Adelaide and don't pay attention to it, but everybody's busy. There's protest work, there's artistic work, there’s work which is speaking to communities that don't get to be heard at all. That's got to be so invigorating, being part of that and helping drive what that is on the ground.
KK: It's definitely really invigorating. I think in terms of when you do live in Adelaide, because it is so quiet and we don't get the kind of buzz that you'd get when you're living in Sydney or Melbourne, or even Brisbane. The pace has really changed a lot here in Brisbane as well. But I feel like when you live in Adelaide, which is kind of a glorified country town, it is just small enough for you to be able to get a bit of space and a bit of quiet from any noise so you can really boil some things down and have really important conversations, but also get a bit of space to really investigate certain matters.
As an artist speaking, I never came up through the club circuit as a drag queen. I worked in Adelaide Fringe. That was what I was doing. I was producing my own shows, really spouting my kind of drag to people that aligned with my messaging. I learned how to put my intentions and my protest at the forefront of my messaging. Adelaide gave me space to do that when I was living there.
I definitely noticed the difference when I moved to Melbourne. I was like, ‘Oh my God, I don't have as much capacity in my brain to sit here and not listen to noise. I'm listening to so much noise, and now my work is suffering.’ Not in any other way than artistically, being able to really to intention and see it through, because there's no opposing forces or noise next to you going, ‘are you sure that people are going to love this?’ We didn't give a fuck if people liked it. I didn't care. I was like, ‘I like it. I'm putting it on in the theatre.’ Whether people come or not, it is what it is. That was the thing about the script and working with Leela and Ruben [Kaye], it was just like being in the artist bar at Adelaide fringe and getting sloshed and doing a comedy lineup show like we would normally do.
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On the MIFF Red carpet, you talked about being excited for the positive feedback and also inviting the negative feedback for the film. I'm curious why you're eager to hear the negative feedback too?
KK: I think naturally as a drag queen, but also as a person of colour, when I was thrust into the arts, first and foremost here in Australia, but definitely when you go into mainstream spaces, it's made very apparent to you all the things that people hate about you before they discuss anything that they like. I think naturally it's just a part of the beast. Not that I listen, I don't read comments, I don't do any of that kind of stuff, but I think naturally when you know that people are pissed off about you, equally, when you're looking at something as a producer and you're looking to move projects, any kind of engagement is a positive for the project. When you're looking at your stats and you're going, ‘Wow, 80% of this feedback is negative, but my numbers are this,’ I can go to a production company and sell this like ‘people don't like it, which means they're going to talk about it.’
It's such a departure from the reality that you know outside of your phone and your laptop, it doesn't exist when you close your phone up and you go outside and look at real people, but I think that naturally in the way that our world works and how social media works, you kind of rely on these eyes and definitely the negative opinion to kind of propel what you're doing, especially specifically if you're doing work that is remotely queer and definitely focusing on one of the marginalised voices, which definitely is a lesbian perspective, it’s the pitchforks and the flames will be coming, so you just anticipate it well and just laugh at it because it's ridiculous.
You're able to showcase in an animated form a lot of the things that have people come to know about Kween, and part of that is dancing. I want to talk about representing dance, not on just a drag queen scale, but also in an animated scale. What does that mean for you to be able to have that represented in such a level like this?
KK: Wow. I think naturally, like anyone that knows Kween as a function on a reality TV show, you know she's a dancing diva. That's always been the biggest part of my act, high energy, gag worthy performances. I think any kind of essence is definitely going to showcase that, whether being voiceover or being live performance, you're always going to get an element of physicality. So that was something that was written in for me, with Leela knowing that about me.
I also really did appreciate the function of Blade being this kind of villain. For example, with the Straight White Maliens, I think the messaging of them realising their ridiculousness, but also us being able to see how ridiculous they are, speaks more volumes than an earnest drag queen – specifically me – who does this kind of work day to day, who preaches this shit to people that definitely listen, but they go, ‘yeah, she's so right,’ and then it goes nowhere else other than that. It's a lot more heavy hitting when they're seeing three Straight White Maliens talking the way that they're talking, getting towards the end, and the whole time you're laughing at them about how stupid they are, or they'll say something and you're like, ‘oh, I can't believe they just said that.’ The functions of these characters are so intentional.
I think naturally people, they look at the maternal drag queen, and I know, for example, how heavy that responsibility is when you're in a club and you're seeing freshly 18 year olds who are recently out, who are coming out for their first drink at a bar, seen their first drag show, they're looking at drag queens, and they're just like, enamoured by this experience; and as a queen that's always really taken that responsibility seriously and made sure I gave energy that was encompassing and surrounded them in love, I definitely know versions of queens that are not that way and do the opposite. And so, I think being that version of Blade to kind of represent that was definitely not a challenge, but it was definitely something that was that opened my eyes to other versions of drag, and also more or less the responsibility that we have as leaders within the community, especially within the nightlife where lots of these kids are coming for their awakening and they're seeing their drag queens for the first time and going, ‘oh my god, that drag queen told me I look gorgeous.’ ‘Oh my god, that drag queen told me to get up on stage and dance.’ You know that those things have impact, and so it made me really understand and also appreciate that impact even more so playing a horrible person called Blade.
Let's step back then, what was your first awakening to drag?
KK: Well, I was born and raised in New Zealand. I didn't start drag until my mid-20s, but I was around drag queens when I was like 14. Because I looked like a 21-year-old, because I'm a big man, I started sneaking into clubs at like 14. There's a club called Family Bar in Auckland, New Zealand, on K Road. The whole scene in New Zealand was trailblazed by Māori and Pacific Island queens and trans women. They were the ones that really just did everything.
At my first night in a queer bar, I was surrounded by seven foot five body builder Tongan drag queens, big Pacific Island, strong looking drag queens. And I remember feeling so safe in that club, because no one was going to mess with these big men in wigs. They were dressed up for the nines in their best House of Priscilla attire, big sequin dresses, headdresses, everything. I just remember how big, bold and also unapologetic they were. It really set the tone for how I viewed myself as a Pacific queer male. I went, ‘Oh, wow. They're so brave, they're so powerful, no one's going to mess with them.’ I really learned a lot from those queens. That was my first kind of awakening. Not that I wanted to get into drag then, but as a queer male, it made me feel very safe and also very capable at that age.
I love that answer. Usually at this time in an interview, I would be asking people about what it means to be an Australian filmmaker and telling Australian stories on screen. But I’ll ask a different version of that question, which is what it means to be a Pacific queer voice in media right now. Not just in Australia, of course as Drag Race goes all around the world. Your voice is not just in Australia and New Zealand, it's going across the globe. So what does it mean to be a Pacific queer voice in media right now?
KK: I think it's a privilege. It's definitely one of those things that I don't take lightly, and I always try to represent and show up for my community first and foremost. We are riddled in this world with examples of horrible leadership, a lot of people that should not be in positions of power, and so the little platforms that I do have where I do have influence, I try to not only show up in the best way possible, but I try to offer understanding, maturity, and love.
I think the biggest thing is I try to lead with love. And a lot of our community leaders, within the queer community, we really have that approach of trying to show up with love, because it's just a lot of the opposite happening in the world. It's important. I know I'm opening doors and I know people that are going to succeed me are also looking and seeing the responsibility. I'm just going to continue that kind of work and hopefully make more of an impact than this hatred is making on our world right now.