Lesbian Space Aliens Invade NYC!

March 28, 2022

You think your Tinder dates are bad? Try finding love as a lesbian who just landed in pre-dating app NYC via flying saucer. That was the insane on-screen reality for a trio of extraterrestrial characters in the 2012 indie rom-com “Codependent Lesbian Space Alien Seeks Same.” As a hilarious homage to 1950s sci-fi flicks, low-budget B-movies, and urban romance, the cult classic of modern queer cinema reveals that U-hauling with a UFO is even harder than it looks.

The film follows three aliens tasked to find heartbreak on Earth in order to save their home planet – whose inhabitants believe that romantic feelings are the cause behind its depleting ozone. Between a quirky fling with an unsuspecting stationary store employee, unhinged intergalactic love triangles, and men in black lurking on Manhattan’s city streets, the space invaders unveil laughable yet universal life lessons of love and belonging. A decade after its release, writer and director Madeleine Olnek reflects on the feature-length debut that skyrocketed her cinematic career and won the hearts of lesbians all over the world – and beyond.

Interview by Megan Hein
Photos by Nat Bouman

All of Madeleine Olnek’s feature films – including 'Codependent Lesbian Space Alien Seeks Same' – are now available to rent on Amazon. You can also stream her latest release, ‘Wild Nights with Emily,’ on Hulu and Kanopy.

Read our exclusive interview with the writer/director below.

I got the DVD of 'Codependent Lesbian Space Alien Seeks Same' because I had been wanting to watch it for so long but couldn't find it anywhere. It was literally a hidden gem. How would you describe this movie to someone who hasn't seen it yet?

It's an underground queer comedy. I would say that you get to see the old New York in it too. There are so many queer movies that are sort of all commercialized, but this isn't one of them. Variety called it a 'family film,' which was funny. It's not a typical film. It's not a cookie-cutter romantic comedy.

For me, this movie perfectly captured not only a universal feeling of alienation – literally – but more specifically, the New York lesbian experience. Like, I loved when they went to Cubby Hole because that's still such an iconic space for queer women in the city. Would you say that you've seen lesbian culture in New York change much within the decade since the movie's release?

I don't know that the culture has changed – I think that the world has changed. It was heavily centered around bars in the past, I think because there were so few places where gay people or women felt comfortable. It still blows me away when I see young people walking down the street holding hands. When I came of age, women couldn't do that without being harassed non-stop. So it's changed, and to some extent in a good way. But coming of age and coming out as queer, you always go through something because you're still the same person but all of the sudden everyone is treating you differently. There's something that can feel very alienating about it. I didn't know if you had been at the screening in Williamsburg that we had on Valentine's Day at the Nighthawk Cinema. Every seat in the theater was taken. It has a timeless quality with references to 1950s sci-fi and certain iconic images of aliens and iconic images of lesbians. So it's still as relatable as it was.

It's funny you mentioned that screening because the movie seems to have gained almost a cult classic status within certain corners of the world. But I feel like my generation is so caught up in streaming and watching what's available, so have you seen a newer audience being drawn to this film?

Everyone in the audience had never seen it! There's something about seeing comedies in public that's fun. 'Cause one of the opportunities that queer people were denied growing up is just walking into a theater with an audience and having the story on screen relate to you in some way. You know, you can watch things in your bedroom, streaming on your laptop as much as you want, but there's something so fun about a group of people coming together for a screening. But it's true, it is officially viewed as an underground classic.

Comedies change you… I think for women especially, it's important to watch comedies so you can laugh at the world – because you really need to.

One thing I love about this movie is you can really tell it's made for lesbians. I feel like some of the references were so niche that I didn't even realize it was a thing until I watched it and I was like, ‘Oh my god.’ How did you come up with the story and how much of the script was based on real-life?

The feeling was a real-life feeling that I had. With the premise of the movie being that these aliens live on a planet where it's believed that if you love too much, the feelings leave your body and rise into the sky and widen the hole in the ozone – it was a realization I had at one point when I was totally crushed-out on this woman. I had this realization like, 'Wow, these feelings are so powerful it doesn't even feel like I'm having them. They just feel like they're hanging in the air – like they're in the environment. These are my feelings, but they feel like part of the weather.'

I often make comedies where there are ridiculous circumstances, but I try to write truthfully under those circumstances – that's what makes you feel like the story has stakes. So I drew on feelings that I had – that kind of yearning you often go through, how raw it often feels to be out and how alienated you feel. The other thing I would say is true to life is because we shot in the East Village, we could have people walking around the streets in full alien costumes with bald heads and pointy collars and no one take a second look. It sort of supported the premise, like, aliens could land in New York City and jaded New Yorkers wouldn't look twice. It made it more real.

Another thing that I really appreciate about the movie is its happy ending, which I feel is so rare to find specifically in lesbian movies nowadays.

Yes! It won a special award at Outfest, and they mentioned that she finds love even if she has to go to another planet to find it. Having a happy ending was very important for me because it's true – someone was telling me how when she came out, people were telling her to watch different movies and each one had an unhappy ending. And she was like, 'Is this what I have to look forward to?' It is really important, those happy, but believable, happy endings. I've seen movies that had happy endings, but because I don't believe them, it doesn't feel happy. Even though the writers or directors decided it's happy, you know deep down it's not because these two people aren't really gonna be able to make it work. But the movie is two oddballs who you know are right for each other – because that character of Jane is the only person you could imagine going out with someone who was really an alien, but she would never judge them. It was believable that she would be in that romance and find happiness in it too.

Right. Do you have a favorite film ending of all time?

It's funny that you ask that because I've often said I love the first two-thirds of every David Lynch movie, and it's really the last third where he's just jumped the shark and can't get back down from these things he set up. But the first two-thirds are so wonderful and exciting. For example, I loved 'Mulholland Drive' until the tiny old people shrunk to the size of ants and ran under the door of the woman's bedroom. I do consider that though one of my favorite lesbian films. But with a happy ending – Oh I know! Here's the greatest happy ending of all time: 'Nights of Cabiria.' It's Fellini and it's from I believe the 1950s. I don't wanna tell you what happens, but when you see it you'll see what I mean about a happy ending that's truthful and how satisfying that is. But I wanna answer this, let me think of just an over-the-top happy ending.

For me, it's not really over-the-top, but the ending of 'Carol.'

Oh yeah! That's a great ending. It was so funny – I remember opening weekend of 'Carol' in New York. After I saw the movie, everyone came out with – they looked like they had just been huffing something in a paper bag. Like, everyone was so dreamily happy. I wanted to stand there and take pictures of people and make a webpage like, ‘Audience Members Coming Out of 'Carol.'' 'Cause everyone just looked like whatever they had ingested had just hit them. They were so happy. It was a happy ending. I can't even remember exactly what happened, but I remember what everyone looked like.

You might not have realized this, but the ending of ‘Space Aliens’ was in color. I thought of it as a reverse 'Wizard of Oz.' One thing the lesbian playwright, Holly Hughes, said was ridiculous about ‘Wizard of Oz' is that Dorothy spends the whole movie trying to get back to the black and white world instead of staying in Oz where it's so fabulous. I never heard anyone put it so succinctly. But I'm gonna think of some more movies. I thought ‘D.E.B.S.’ by Angela Robinson had a very happy ending.

Yes! It's iconic.

It's true though. Part of the reason is there can often be more money and more support for something that's seemingly about social injustice. Once you have happiness or comedy in something, it's not taken as seriously. Like, a movie where someone's murdered, killed, et cetera, can draw more investors because it's like, 'We're part of this cause.' What's interesting with drama is like, just because something is presented with weight doesn't mean that it has weight. Comedies change you. Watching them changes you. It gives you hope, changes your neurological brain patterns. I think for women especially, it's important to watch comedies so you can laugh at the world – because you really need to.

Exactly. I like how you mentioned 'Mulholland Drive' because I can definitely sense some Lynchian vibes in ‘Space Aliens.’ Who or what else would you say has influenced your style?

Well, I'm totally flattered you would say there were 'Lynchian vibes' because I do think he is a true poet of cinema. I love Fellini and Italian neorealism. I also was inspired by the French New Wave and Agnes Varda. For example, if you look at 'Breathless,' there's scenes where they're walking down the street and supposedly had the camera in a postal bag – but you're in the middle of Paris! Like, this is not a tidy lockdown set. I always think it's sad when people do low-budget films and don't take advantage of what the form has to offer. You have a small footprint, you can really get out in the city and capture the life of it. That's what I did with 'Space Aliens' and my second feature, 'The Foxy Merkins' – which is about two women hustlers who pick up Republican and conservative women and turn tricks for them in this constructive world – and sleep in the bathroom of the Port Authority bus station. I also take a lot of inspiration from theatre because my background is in theatre – the idea of making things performance-centered. Those are more my inspirations than other filmmakers, per se. Although I'm also really inspired by documentaries and documentary filmmakers. How long they take to get it right and how well they research things and piece it together to make it have a shape and a flow – and there's real life in there! That's just so thrilling.

Now that it’s been 10 years since you’ve directed your first feature, is there anything you would say to yourself when you were just starting out?

I would say not to be so worried about things. I was also a producer on all my movies, and it was a lot of pressure to bear all that responsibility. I worried about a lot of things and I would rather that I just worry about things once they actually happen. There's something scary about it because you don't know if you're gonna be able to get to the end, but we made it to the end with every movie. So I guess I would say, 'Enjoy things along the way more.'

Culture

Mowalola x Miss Sixty Launch with H. Lorenzo

I swing my legs over the ropes that guard the VIP entrance. Always over (I’m 5’10), never under. I’m late to the H. Lorenzo x Mowalola event, and the line is wrapped around the block. I don’t want to be an asshole, but I hate waiting in lines; it just ruins everything.

“Hey, my friend is DJing right now. My name should be down,” I say.

The youngish security guard looks me up and down. I have made an adventurous choice for this type of crowd. Neon pink hoodie, bright orange vest, my Raimundo jeans, and Jeremy Scott animal print sneakers. I let him take me in and look over his shoulder. Hmmm… I will be swathed in darkness when he lets me in. Dark night, dark clothes, dark makeup, furs, hoods, leather accessories, and sunglasses. I don’t recognize anyone, but it’s hard to tell who anyone is because I can’t see after 8 pm without my glasses. Night blindness. I can still catch a vibe though.

“She’s in the bathroom,” Mr. Guard says, interrupting my squinting.

“Who?,” I ask.

“The woman in charge of the list.”

That’s a drag. I want to dance. Lately, I am going out in the name of music.

“So…can I go in?” I ask.

“Just wait for her to get back.”

That sounded fine. I wait. The outdoor smoking area is packed. I imagine the inside to be a mirror of this, hopefully with people dancing instead of blowing smoke in each other’s eyes.

“You got instagram?” The guard asks me after about ten minutes of flirting.

“Can I go in?” I said.

He laughs. He lets me in the event without a wristband.

Inside, I understand why the other guard was gone for so long. I made a mental note to not drink too much liquid, the bathroom line is almost as long as the line outside. The party is popping, far from a flop.

I push through the crowd solo, following the speakers to the DJ booth. The immersive visuals provided me with enough light to make out Mowalola in a gold bikini and her low rise denim. My pulse races like the horse printed on the front of her coochie. That’s the point of the collection, obviously.

My hips swing around before I head towards the open bar. I smile to myself, noting that it’s a mezcal forward menu. I see a drink that disgusts me so I order it without hesitation. It’s a mezcal coffee concoction. My heart ’s ran through already, why not go all in? I head back to dance when I hear Shigecki’s set start. I’m jumping around, sweating, and when I pause for a beat I let out a yelp. There are strippers working poles opposite and behind the DJ booth. Good. Events should be sexy.

I end the night smoking my friend’s Korean strawberry cigarettes taking in the air of cool- when a man comes up to me wild-eyed exclaiming that we look just like one another. I look at him- no, not at all. I turn slowly, remembering what I should be doing: listening to DJ G2G’s set. Back inside, she is playing reggaeton type beats with lasers beaming out of her headphones (I want these). A rave in it of herself.

Too bad all the events end at 2 am in LA.

Culture

Vans Pipe Masters 2024

On the first night, Steve Van Doren and the Vans team hosted the heat draw for the competitors at a casual backyard barbecue. The son of Vans’ co-founder Paul Van Doren, Steve has worked in the family business for decades, and is now known as the Ambassador of Fun. Wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a cowboy hat made out of old shoes, he was definitely dressed for the part. The surfers, along with family and friends gathered in a relaxed setting as 40 men’s and 20 women’s names were drawn from a shoebox. The competition would run in 3 rounds, the top 4 men and 4 women with the highest scores moving onto the finals. When asked about their strategies, most gave answers along the lines of “get waves.” Refreshingly simple.

After waiting a few days for favorable conditions, the first day of competition kicked off with Women’s Round 1. It was finally time to see Pipeline in action. Banzai Pipeline is known as one of the most dangerous places to surf due to the powerful waves breaking over shallow and sharp reefs. With the potential to crash into the rocky edges or have leashes caught in caves, it takes a ton of skill–-and even more courage–to surf here. No stranger to these risks, the first heat included favorites Caity Simmers and “Queen of Pipeline” Moana Jones Wong, who showed off exactly why they’d been successful here in the past. Midway through the heats, Mother Nature decided to throw in another element as a light drizzle turned into a proper downpour. Rain or shine, the athletes went out unfazed, focused on getting their first points on the board.

After another short day’s break, the competition continued with the women’s second round and the men’s first. The beach was filled with spectators, locals and tourists alike, as the competition was free for all to attend. While fans rooted equally for the women and men, the most popular were the local Hawaiian athletes, which made up about half the competition. The women started off the day again, hyping up the crowd with incredible rides. One ride by Bettylou Sakura Johnson earned the first Bag of Cash of the day– a cash prize (of undisclosed amount) awarded in a brown paper bag to any surfer that pulls off a wow moment, excites the crowd, and pulls off something spectacular regardless of what the conditions might look like.

Winds picked up as the men’s competition began and two strategies quickly emerged: an aggressive approach, targeting any decent waves to build small scores; and a patient approach, waiting for the perfect wave to chase a high single score. Even the waves that were unrideable were a spectacle in itself. The sheer size, illustrated by the length of surfboards riding up and over, and the following crash of white water spray was hypnotizing. Then imagining having to experience it out on the water, duck diving under or being lifted over, brought a renewed respect for the surfers.

After watching these early rounds, it was time for office to head back to the cold. With the competition officially spanning from December 8-20, it seemed the forecast was gearing up for some massive waves— and it didn’t disappoint. Following from afar through Vans’ Instagram and live updates, we saw the full extent of what it means to surf at Pipeline. After a series of electrifying and daring surfs, the 2024 winners were crowned: Erin Brooks and Nathan Florence.

The thrill of watching top athletes compete at the highest level of their sport, even remotely, never fails to inspire. Few sports surrender so completely to the forces of nature as surfing does. And at its core, surfing is all about having a deep respect for the ocean—its unpredictable whims, its immense power, and its ever-changing moods.

Culture

The Cost of Queendom

December 17, 2024

One summer afternoon in New York, a few days after their New York premiere of the acclaimed documentary Queendom, office met up with documentary filmmaker Agniia Galdanova and producer Igor Myakotin at a tattoo parlor on the west side of Manhattan. While Agniia received a tattoo of the portmanteau “DOCU CUNT” across her fists, she — unfazed by the needle on her knuckles — answered our questions alongside Igor about the making of the stirring story that has traveled around the world.

One of the opening scenes of Queendom depicts a ritual many of us are all too familiar with in the 21st century. Jenna Marvin, the documentary film’s central subject, takes her friend along with her to take photos for Instagram. When she finds a suitable backdrop, she poses, poses, poses, and then reviews the photos. Dissatisfied, she gives her notes, and then returns to pose, pose, pose again.

By Brook Aster
Photos by Liv Solomon

The ritual may be familiar, but nothing else about the scene — from its setting to its stakes — is ordinary. The backdrop behind Jenna is a sweeping expanse of ice and snow in a small Russian port town called Magadan. Jenna is dressed in drag, but not drag of the Rupaul’s Drag Race variety; her drag has been referred to as “creature drag.” Her signature white face paint, platform heels and surrealist costumes, with their exaggerated sculptural proportions and use of duct tape and repurposed items, catches the ire of her neighbors and the love of online admirers alike. Jenna eventually accrued a following on social media for her public and technically illegal drag performances, which often involved little more than her walking or being in public spaces but nevertheless were often met with abuse and threats of imprisonment.

But when Agniia first encountered Jenna, she hadn’t yet reached the level of virality that would eventually come in the years to follow. The filmmaker was researching different drag performers in Russia for her sophomore project, which she thought would be a docuseries, when she heard from a friend about a young drag queen from Magadan. “I was like, this is impossible. I have to meet this person,” Agniia remembers. “And I could not actually go meet her because I was in Moscow and she was in Saint Petersburg, so I sent a friend of mine with whom I’d been studying with in film school, and she went and filmed the sample.” The simple video, showing Jenna and her friend getting dressed up for a party, struck something in Agniia. The drag was an earlier, more prototypical version of the style Jenna is now known for; less duct tape and ornamentation, but still that signature striking makeup. “Something sparked. I knew I just had to stick to this feeling,” Agniia says. She decided to turn the docuseries into a documentary solely focused on Jenna.

Around that time, the entire world came to a grinding halt: the onset of COVID-19 pandemic had just led to lockdowns around the globe. With only a couple thousand followers on social media at that point in time, Jenna had tried to branch out and connect with other drag artists in Moscow and Saint Petersburg, but faced rejection; her drag was extremely unconventional, and not even other drag artists quite understood it. “I think we found each other at the right moment, because nobody knew what to do, how to cope with all this,” Agniia says. “Jenna was saying that she was lost, and she also didn't know how to develop her art next.”

Unlike some of the other artists Agniia had initially researched, Jenna didn’t need much convincing to allow the camera into her life. “[Especially] after COVID came, there wasn't really [any] drag in my life,” Jenna recounts when I speak to her later over Zoom. “I realized that what drag is for me is not just a costume, a dress, something that you leave, that you take off and then in the dead of the night you put back on. Later, I understood that this is who I am, that I am art and I am drag, and that this is way bigger and more important than just clothing or costume.”

[LEFT TO RIGHT: Agniia Galdanova, Jenna Marvin, Igor Myakotin]

When it came time to move into production stages, Agniia sent a clip to Igor, who had been referred to her by a past colleague. When Igor saw the footage, he was similarly struck by Jenna — and even more struck to find out she shared his small hometown of Magadan. “It was just so fateful to know that I also come from this town, and I've never seen it through this cinematic lens, through the vision that Agniia has,” he says. “I was mesmerized by the footage, mesmerized by Jenna. I thought to myself, I have to do everything I can [for us] to work together, whatever the collaboration is gonna be.”

The two followed Jenna for over three years; Agniia first relocated to St. Petersburg, where Jenna had taken up residence after leaving her grandparents’ home in Magadan, and later Jenna moved in with Agniia in her home in Moscow. All the while, Igor and his team worked remotely from the United States to meet Agniia’s production needs. Inevitably, with all their time spent together, Agniia and Jenna became close.

“There is an unspoken rule in documentary filmmaking that you have to keep this line, and you can’t overcome certain boundaries,” Agniia explains. “In my first film, it was not an easy subject [to do this with] as well. I was following a family for seven months, and [we became] close, but I always was trying to keep my distance, and was constantly thinking about it. How much should I say? How much should I give?” But as she got to know Jenna, it became clear that this time, that distance wouldn’t be possible. “With Jenna almost from the very beginning, I was like, fuck it. That’s not going to work with this one. I'm going to break this rule 100%. I never regretted it, because that's actually what built up the trust that is there.”

As Jenna's public performances continued and began to garner more public attention, her online audience multiplied. Among her virtual admirers was French fashion maven Michèle Lamy, who would eventually sign onto Queendom as an executive producer. Lamy's discovery of Jenna led to an invitation to walk in the Rick Owens show in Paris — her first time modeling, and her first time leaving Russia in her life. Of course, Agniia and her camera followed. But most of their excursions were not so glamorous; many of Jenna's performances shown in the documentary were undertaken at a real risk to her physical safety, and by extension, to the safety of Agniia. But neither of them were daunted.

I remember who I am. And this is what carries me through this life.

After all, Jenna was used to both taking risks and documenting them well before she was the subject of a film; she and her friends long filmed the often impassioned, sometimes violent reactions of strangers and policemen to their mere existence in public spaces in drag. And after a protest performance in which she wrapped herself in the Russian flag, Jenna was kicked out of beauty school, her last attempt at a practical route before pursuing her drag as a full time venture.

The only time Agniia tried to dissuade her was on Paratrooper’s Day, a Russian military holiday often characterized by the drunk soldiers roaming the streets. The risk for violence was especially high. “On Paratroopers Day, people say you can't come out in skinny jeans or with nail polish,” Jenna describes. “[I think] you should do the opposite. You should really make a statement and come out wearing what you want to wear. I think that clothes, what we wear, is really at some point beyond our psyche, our mind, our understanding. It is as if it's a certain kind of spice that is enticing you and you follow the scent of that spice and you don't see anything else except that scent and you follow it. That's how I see it.”

“I was like, ‘girl, maybe we should not do that,’” Agniia says. “Igor was stressing out and she told us, ‘well, you don't need to follow me. I'm gonna go and do it. I don't care if you're coming or not.’” In the end, Jenna ventured out for her performance anyway, protesting the then-recent invasion of Ukraine. Agniia followed. Not shown in the film is that the two were arrested, and managed to talk the police out of their arrest.

Not too long after, she would have to leave Russia again, this time moving for Paris for good; the film follows her struggles to get a visa in time to leave the country after the onset of the war. “It's already been three years that I've been in France, and it is important for me to understand and remember who I am, and to remember that pain, those moments when we were back in Russia doing drag, fighting with the police and law enforcement,” Jenna says. “It is important that this resistance continues and that those voices are not being silenced. Yes, here there’s much more freedom, there are pride parades and queer people can get married, but this is an illusion because there are also places where you cannot get married and you cannot enjoy the same freedoms. I cling to who I am, who I was from the very beginning. I remember who I am. And this is what carries me through this life.”

“Meeting Jenna gave me hope for the future of the country, because governments come and go, people in power come and go, but the generations change at the same time,” Igor says. “So it warms my heart to see that someone like her came from somewhere like that. If I saw her back then at a similar age, it would be even more personal. I think I would’ve accepted myself as gay quicker, and I wouldn't be nervous or closed and not open to the world or myself… Working with this project also meant that we were amplifying the voices of many, many people who couldn't speak like Jenna could.”

For Agniia, the honor of telling Jenna's story is only paralleled by the honor of having her in her life. “We found each other,” Agniia says. “And what I learned from Jenna is so precious; about life, about art, about surviving. And I appreciate it a lot. This film grew so much larger than just a documentary, because I have a family now, a working family.”

Queendom is now available to stream on Apple TV.