People often ask me how and why I got drawn into documenting the life and trials of the extraordinary drag performer, BeBe Zahara Benet. Maybe it’s not completely obvious, but to me it’s pretty simple. It’s because I identify with him on so many levels.
We’re both 6’5″ in flats, we both were raised in Western Africa—oh wait, no—none of that’s true. I’m 5’6″ on a good day, was born and raised in suburban Minnesota, and will never look as good in a dress as BeBe does. But regardless of physical differences, cultural roots, and some specifics of our chosen occupations, I find myself continuously relating to my friend BeBe’s creative and professional journey in a very meaningful way—as would many individuals who set out on one of life’s less conventional paths.
The impetus to start shooting a documentary about drag initially came from a place of fascination. I was first introduced to BeBe by my younger sister, who had answered an ad posted at her ballet studio downtown while she was in college. Next thing she knew, she was dancing backup at a regional drag pageant at the Gay 90s in Minneapolis. Having never been exposed much to the world of drag, I was completely taken by the heightened gender performance, layered identities, and pageantry. I decided that I would make some time away from my freelance music video and commercial gigs in New York to shoot BeBe’s experience at his first national pageant down in Dallas. When we started, I thought it would probably end up as a short film, and I went in with very few expectations. I met so many incredible performers with such varied and interesting stories during our first month of shooting that at one point I wanted the film to be about the whole community of drag artists in the Twin Cities.
While I have nothing but love and respect for the other queens I’ve met at the 90s and the Townhouse, I soon came back around to feel that BeBe was the artist in the community whose story had the richest complexity to it. He was also the individual that I felt the strongest connection to. Fascination is often what sparks a filmmaker’s interest in a subject, but it’s not enough to keep a person devoted and sacrificing for an indeterminate number of years. That level of commitment has to come from a different place.
BeBe’s story is my story.
I’m not even going to try to say that my struggles as an independent filmmaker are on the same level as those of a professional drag performer. There’s a completely different degree of personal exposure, sexual scrutiny and forfeiture of privacy involved in BeBe’s line of work, and my career choice doesn’t come close to violating the social norms of my homeland in the way that BeBe’s does—although I’ll bet that after 7 years of living and working in New York, some of my reflexes might raise a couple eyebrows if I spent a significant chunk of time back home!
That said, I do understand BeBe’s ongoing struggle to justify his career choice to his family. We both certainly could have followed a more “normal” path. We both come from close, supportive families who don’t like to see us suffer, and frankly don’t understand why we’ve set such lofty and risky goals for ourselves. During hectic spells when I’m juggling 16-hour days working production on commercial gigs with my own creative projects during my “spare” time, when weeks (months?) are going by without a day off or a good night’s sleep, amid financial insecurity and no way of knowing that any of the sacrifices made now will necessarily lead to greater comfort in the future, as I have no way to prove or promise that my dreams and hard work will ever amount to anything more than an expensive hobby—my mom just shakes her head. “It doesn’t have to be this hard, you know. You could get a real job if you wanted to,” she says, sighing. “You were so good at math.”
BeBe’s values are my values.
Of course, none of what we’re doing is crazy in our minds. Both BeBe and I believe to our very cores that if you work hard at what you have passion for, you can succeed at what you are doing. I have continually been impressed by BeBe’s persistence and follow-through. He sets goals for himself, and he makes things happen. A lot of people help him achieve these goals, but that’s because he is an effective and inspiring leader as well as a good friend, and he appreciates the contributions of his collaborators. He is very industrious and focused on attaining success. He’s a truly admirable role model, for others as well as for myself.
Meanwhile, our families certainly take priority over our workaholism. We both value our families (including close friends, as the word “family” would mean in both the Cameroonian and drag communities) above all else. I have been incredibly moved by taking part in BeBe’s family gatherings. Experiencing firsthand the reverence they all share for the time they get to spend together—made all the more special by the many miles that often keep them apart—has helped me appreciate my own family even more.
BeBe’s victory is my victory.
Over the past three years, BeBe and I have been on parallel, conjoined paths. We have been strengthening our crafts, figuring out who we are as artists, and gradually coming closer to where we want to be professionally. We both have invested everything we’ve got—all of our time, energy, and money—into our art forms and careers. Since our first month of working together back in May of 2006, I have known deep down that BeBe’s story was an important one that needed to be told. I didn’t know how that story would end, and I certainly didn’t have any idea that he might win a reality TV show and have RuPaul name him “the World’s Next Drag Superstar.” But I did believe in him, and I knew that I needed to stick with the project. Having borne witness to some of the tougher times, I couldn’t be prouder of his successes.
We haven’t had funding for the documentary at all up until this point. I’ve been scraping the whole film together out of generous favors from friends and family, proceeds from my commercial and music video production gigs, and sheer force of will. We are at a point now, though, where those things simply can’t provide enough to finish the film in a way that does justice to BeBe’s story. We are currently seeking the finishing funds to wrap things up in this coming year, and I have high hopes that BeBe’s newfound following will help guide us to that funding.
BeBe’s coming to town on Wednesday, July 29 for a fundraiser party here in New York, and I can hardly wait. We’ll be premiering our latest fundraising trailer for the film, BeBe and special guests will be performing a few numbers, and we have some fantastic sponsors like Barefoot Wine, who are providing an open wine bar for the beginning of the event. As a truly independent filmmaker, the number of hats you have to wear these days is getting to be ridiculous. For the past couple months, “Event Planner” has been added to my list. Exhausted as I may be from everything going on right now, it really doesn’t feel like a burden. It feels absolutely fantastic to be celebrating this mid-production milestone with an opportunity to engage with our film’s audience. An audience that hopefully feels the same way I feel—that the world needs a BeBe.
Documentary filmmaker Emily Branham is our newest No Map. No Guide. No Limits. Contributing Writer.
