There are certain titles that arrive on the desk of an Editor-in-Chief that immediately demand attention through sheer, unadulterated audacity. When word reached UK Film Review that Peccadillo Pictures had secured the distribution rights for a project titled Lesbian Space Princess, it wasn’t just the evocative name that raised eyebrows. It was the pedigree trailing behind it. Fresh from a triumphant world premiere at the Berlin International Film Festival—where it secured the prestigious Teddy Award—and an Audience Award win for Best Australian Feature at the Sydney Film Festival, this animated odyssey is landing in UK and Irish cinemas on 22nd May.
The prospect of a “laugh-out-loud adventure through the far reaches of queer outer space” feels like a necessary shot of adrenaline. From what I have gathered, the film is the brainchild of South Australian writers and directors Leela Varghese and Emma Hough Hobbs. Their vision appears to be a riotous, candy-coloured subversion of the space-opera genre, swapping out stoic star-captains for a narrative rooted firmly in LGBTQIA+ identity and cultural diversity.
The premise alone is a delight of high-concept comedy. We are introduced to Princess Saira, the introverted daughter of the flamboyant lesbian Queens of Planet Clitopolis. In a relatable twist of terrestrial drama, Saira’s life is upended when her bounty-hunter girlfriend, Kiki, dumps her for being “too needy.” However, heartbreak takes a backseat to heroism when Kiki is kidnapped by the Straight White Maliens—a group of forgotten incels of the future. The ransom? Saira’s royal labrys, the most powerful weapon known to lesbian kind. The catch? Saira doesn’t actually have it.
What follows is a race against time. With only twenty-four hours to retrieve the weapon and save her ex, Saira embarks on an “inter-gay-lactic” journey of self-discovery. Along the way, she reportedly encounters a problematic spaceship and forms a bond with a gay-pop runaway named Willow. It sounds like the kind of chaotic, heart-on-its-sleeve storytelling that animation was built for, and I am genuinely intrigued to see how Varghese and Hough Hobbs balance the satirical bite with what promises to be an earnest emotional core.
The voice cast is equally impressive, suggesting a film that isn’t afraid to lean into its comedic strengths while maintaining high production value. We have Shabana Azeez and Bernie Van Tiel leading the charge, supported by the likes of Gemma Chua Tran and the anarchic energy of the Aunty Donna troupe. Add to that the veteran presence of Richard Roxburgh, the wit of Jordan Raskopolous, and the charisma of Kween Kong, and you have a powerhouse of talent that suggests this is far more than a niche curiosity.
At UK Film Review, we often champion emerging creatives who bring fresh perspectives to the screen. To see an animated comedy that so boldly embraces queer voices both on and off-screen is refreshing. It appears to be a film that isn’t asking for permission to exist; it is simply blasting off into the stratosphere with its own rules. Whether it can maintain that “riotous joy” for its full runtime remains to be seen, but as we look toward the 22nd of May, I find myself remarkably eager to board this particular spaceship.