Stories of Becoming: Queer AANHPI Lives Take the Lead at SAAFF 2025

Seattle, WA — From tender silences to supernatural love stories, four standout films at SAAFF 2025 explore the rich textures of queer and gender-expansive lives across AANHPI communities. In MĀHŪ: A Trans-Pacific Love Letter, Lisette Marie Flanary honors the sacred role of māhū in Native Hawaiian culture. Elijah, by Razid Season, follows a Bengali Muslim father learning to love his transgender daughter. Vivian Ip’s Bobo in Bliss captures the quiet ache of queer adolescence under the weight of family expectation. And in Divine Intervention, Ravenna Tran delivers a playful queer rom-com where angels meddle and love reawakens.

Rather than confront mainstream erasure head-on, these works gently rewrite it, scene by scene—through hula and heartbreak, angels and adolescent reunions. Together, they remind us that queer AANHPI stories aren’t a disruption to cultural continuity. They are, and have always been, part of the lineage.

“Sometimes, the most radical thing we can do is choose joy,” says filmmaker Vivian Ip.

MAHU: A Trans-Pacific Love Letter

Rooted in Legacy, Rewritten in Love

Each film in this showcase pushes back on the false binary between queerness and tradition. In MĀHŪ: A Trans-Pacific Love Letter, director Lisette Marie Flanary captures the revival of a sacred role through the artistry of Kumu Hula Patrick Makuakāne. “Māhū is the traditional Hawaiian term for transgender or the ‘expression of the third self which embodies both male and female aspects within while acknowledging and embracing both,’” she writes. “Yet it also became a term that was used in a derogatory and pejorative sense… which is now being reclaimed today.”

That reclamation pulses through the film’s mix of hula, chant, and personal storytelling. “Before colonization… there was an indigenous sensibility of queer culture based on inclusivity, diversity and aloha,” Flanary notes. “At its core, the film serves as a poignant exploration of Native Hawaiian identity, tradition and the complexities of gender.”

Flanary recalls screening a rough cut for Kumu Patrick: “He had tears in his eyes… I just remember feeling like I was on the right path when I saw his face after watching the film together.”

Reframing Family, Refusing Erasure

In Elijah, Razid Season offers a deeply personal portrait of a Bengali Muslim immigrant father and his transgender daughter, Shoshi, in New York City. The film, Season says, “deals with the topic of gender identity in a working-class, South Asian immigrant family… Many would perceive the opposite when it comes to the acceptance of a gender-defying person by their Asian family.”

But Elijah refuses that trope. “Haider (father) finds his gender-defying daughter at a suicidal point by chance and is able to stop her from committing such an act,” Season explains. “No matter if the child is transgender or what people think of her, she is part of his soul, and he can't reject that.”

Making the film came with challenges: “I had a hard time finding actors from the communities due to the subject matter of the film, and many feared ‘cancel culture’ that might risk their community relationships and acting careers,” he recalls. “As a result, I struggled for a year to find the main actors. However, now that the film is part of the community screening, I see it is raising awareness. This is another meaningful experience.”

Season envisions the film as more than a story—it’s a shift in cultural visibility: “We as Asian Americans often desire to see ourselves in audiovisual media that represents us authentically and creates a platform for participation. I work within the communities, for the communities, and create equal work opportunities for community partners to bring their unique stories to light.”

Tenderness in Transition

Set in an American boarding school, Bobo in Bliss by Vivian Ip traces the quiet tension between a Singaporean teen and her visiting parents. “The film is a love letter to queer Asian adolescence,” Ip writes, “to the parts of ourselves we weren’t always allowed to show.”

Her storytelling resists big declarations. Instead, it lingers in discomfort, longing, and the impossibility of a clean reconciliation. “I hope it offers comfort to anyone navigating that liminal space between personal identity and family, and reminds us that even in the mire of expectation, tenderness can bloom,” she says.

Presenting the film at SAAFF is personal: “To screen it at a festival that celebrates Asian American voices, in a city like Seattle with such a rich diasporic history, feels like coming full circle.”

Fantasy as Freedom

For filmmaker Ravenna Tran, Divine Intervention began during a major life transition. “Divine Intervention came out of a personal time in my life—navigating major changes in a new city. What grounded me were small, unexpected moments: kindness from strangers, quick conversations, little gestures. Those fleeting connections became the heart of this film.”

The result is a playful, genre-bending story in which an angel must get two estranged friends to admit their love. “It is a fantasy story where queer and BIPOC characters, including Asian performers, lead—where their love, friendships, and inner lives drive the narrative,” she writes. “Divine Intervention is a joyful, personal contribution to the growing wave of queer genre storytelling.”

Returning to Seattle with the film felt both surreal and right: “Sharing it at SAAFF, in the region where so much of that journey unfolded, is both grounding and surreal. This festival makes space for voices like mine, and that means everything.”

And the emotional impact? “I want people to feel seen, especially those who rarely get to lead the story—let alone in a fantasy,” Tran says. “If the film stirs something, makes someone feel held or reimagines what connection can look like, that’s the impact I’m after.”

Divine Intervention

A Radical Offering of Care

Together, these four films carve out space—not for explanation, but for being. They place queer AANHPI characters at the center, not in struggle, but in becoming. These are stories made with and for community—rooted in family, tradition, and the choice to love out loud.

As Flanary writes, “The timing of this film is crucial—we are at a pivotal moment in history in this country where conversations surrounding gender identity, sexuality, and cultural diversity are becoming increasingly prevalent and necessary.”

These filmmakers don’t just tell stories. They restore truths. They offer visions. They make room.