Great Moments in Representation: Tangerine's Importance to Trans Representation In Film
Ken Jones, OnScreen Blog Chief Film Critic
This article is part of our “Great Moments in Representation” series, where we look back at crucial moments in Theatre, TV, and Movie history and how accurately representing the character with the appropriate actor was crucial for the show, the actor, and the audience experience.
To read our previous installments, click below:
It may be cliché to refer to Roger Ebert’s quote about movies being empathy machines, but it is one I personally keep coming back to frequently. Ebert believed that great movies provided viewers a chance to experience life beyond the circumstances they were born into. They allow us to enlarge ourselves and our understanding of the world and others, to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes and see the world through their eyes.
It is with this mindset that I wanted to talk about Sean Baker’s Tangerine, a 2015 film that most people outside of cinephiles have likely not seen or even heard of, but nonetheless became one of the most significant movies of the 2010s as it represented a shift in the telling of transgender stories in film.
To set the stage just a bit, 2013 saw the introduction of Laverne Cox on Netflix’s “Orange Is the New Black”, a major breakthrough role and performance from a trans actor. 2014 saw Jared Leto win the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor, portraying a trans woman in Dallas Buyers Club, which received some backlash in the trans community. 2015 would also be the same year that Eddie Redmayne’s performance in The Danish Girl received a Best Actor Oscar nomination; in terms of trans representation in film, it was a mixed bag in 2015.
Some are absolutist when it comes to representation in art, particularly when it comes to LGBTQ roles. Personally, I am open to the idea of actors acting, even Jared Leto, but I also recognize the vital importance of more people from marginalized communities getting roles that represent those communities because of the life experience they can bring to the performance. I want to see a more diverse slate of movies and a more diverse slate of performers.
As much as I may love a Marvel or Star Wars movie, I also want new and fresh stories from new and fresh places that show me experiences and parts of the world that are different than mine. I live a pretty simple life in rural Maine; movies are a great way for me to experience other parts of the world on the cheap and to try and see the world from a different perspective.
So, while I will not condemn Jared Leto or Eddie Redmayne for taking a trans role, I highly value and appreciate movies like Tangerine that lean on authentic voices and give them the space to tell their stories.
So, with all of that said, let’s focus on Tangerine itself.
Sean Baker’s film, shot entirely on iPhones, is a story about two transgender sex workers in Los Angeles on Christmas Eve. Sin-Dee (Kitana Kiki Rodriguez) is back on the street after being in jail for the last month. Sin-Dee’s best friend Alexandra (Mya Taylor) accidentally lets slip that Sin-Dee’s pimp boyfriend Chester (James Ransome) has been unfaithful with a cisgender woman. This information sets Sin-Dee on a warpath, scouring the neighborhood for Chester and the “real fish” he has been unfaithful with.
As much as Sin-Dee’s search for the cheating Chester is the impetus of the film, the heart of the film is the friendship between Sin-Dee and Alexandra. Tangerine is essentially a buddy movie of these two sex workers. Alexandra is there to pick Sin-Dee up after being released from jail, getting her a meal when Sin-Dee barely has a dollar to her name.
Their personalities are wildly different. Sin-Dee is brash, loud, and confrontational. Sin-Dee gives zero effs about how she comes off or who she might offend and is singularly focused. At times, Sin-Dee is like a rolling ball of butcher knives, and people are best off staying out of her way and not impeding her.
Alexandra is more reserved and less aggressive. She tries to be supportive of her friend, who is hell-bent on finding these two people, while also trying to be more level-headed about it, unsure about what Sin-Dee intends to do if/when she finds either Chester or Dinah (Mickey O’Hagan), the woman he is cheating with on Sin-Dee.
Alexandra is also handing out flyers for people to see her give a musical performance at a local club. It is low-key very important to Alexandra, but almost inevitably, it takes a backseat to Sin-Dee’s immediate goals.
Both Rodriguez and Taylor were non-professional actors at the time when filming Tangerine, and both of them give vulnerable and emotionally raw performances. Rodriguez has the showier role, as Sin-Dee has an outsized personality, but Taylor’s Alexandra provides the grounding needed for both characters; Alexandra’s steadiness is what allows Sin-Dee to go off and not become completely unhinged.
The friendship between these two feels authentic and ultimately anchors the film. It is also why the ending of the film is so powerful. Chester is eventually found, and the confrontation actually plays out very differently than anyone would expect, given some outside elements coming into play simultaneously, as a side story involving a taxi driver is folded into Sin-Dee and Alexandra’s main plot.
A revelation also shakes the foundation of the friendship between Sin-Dee and Alexandra. At this crucial moment, with their bond hanging by a thread, a dehumanizing act of hate brings them back together, providing a tender moment of grace and reconciliation between them.
There is a lot to be said about the visual artistry of Tangerine (at times, the camera seems to take on the personality of Sin-Dee), but that is best saved for another day and another piece. This is a story about two transgender sex workers, but it is also a story about searching for human connection, not only for Sin-Dee and Alexandra but for others as well, including the taxi driver and Dinah.
That is a universal story that anyone can relate to.
Tangerine was not a massive box office hit but a critically acclaimed film in 2015, winding up on several best-of-year-end lists. Even though it did not open doors for its two leads (Rodriguez did not pursue an acting career beyond this film), it was a pivotal LGBTQ film.
There are more films with transgender roles and transgender performers in them because of Tangerine's critical acclaim. It furthered the conversation about roles for transgender actors in Hollywood. Having said that, though, more room still needs to be found at the table for these stories.
Lastly, I want to be honest and transparent in saying that this was not an easy film for me to write about, but that is part of why I wanted to write about it when I was told about the site doing a series on great moments in representation in film. In fact, it was the first title that came to mind for me.
The discussion surrounding transgender people in the United States has become politically loaded in recent years. I come from a conservative, Christian background, and my thoughts and opinions on the LGBTQ community are not the same that I had 20 years ago; however, if I’m being honest, they’re still unsettled and processing. I can say I am appalled and dismayed at how I see so many people treat others in the name of God.
Given how politically charged the public discourse is about transgender people, it is easy to lose sight of the humanity of the people at the center of it all. Tangerine provides a sympathetic camera for its audience to see its characters through and remind us of their humanity.
Here, I turn to Mister Rogers, who said:
“I think everybody longs to be loved, and longs to know that he or she is lovable. And, consequently, the greatest thing that we can do is to help somebody know that they’re loved and capable of loving.”
Sin-Dee is a messy human being and not an easy character to love, but we’re all messy human beings in our own ways. Sin-Dee, and every transgender person, is a human being worthy of respect and dignity, deserving of love, and capable of loving.
Empathy machines like Tangerine give us a glimpse into the lives of people who are not like us but, because of our shared human condition, are actually exactly like us.