disclosure: an emphatic call to arms for trans visibility

Disclosure: the action of making new or secret information known.  

This definition, while seemingly straightforward, implies that the act of disclosure always includes ‘secret’ information. And what does ‘secret’ imply? Taboo, shame, and the need for concealment. It is only fitting, then, that Netflix’s striking documentary on Trans identities be titled with this loaded term.  

Trans identities have been pushed into invisibility for centuries. Trans people have been made to believe that the ‘truth’ of their identity is something that has to be disclosed – which, according to the definition of the word, immediately contributes to the societal invisibility that comes with identifying as Transgender. 

Originally titled ‘Trans Lives on Screen’, Disclosure documents the depiction of Trans identities in the media, bringing to light the age-old misconceptions and bigoted images that have contributed to widespread misunderstanding and degradation of the Trans community. The film is poignantly released for pride month, now 51 years post the Stonewall riots which were started by a group of Black, Trans women including Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera. Disclosure is an essential, educational piece of work which urges its audience to recognise the ways in which they have been complicit in the ingrained abuse of Trans identities in modern society.  

Disclosure is directed and produced by Sam Feder, the filmmaker responsible for several other seminal Queer productions, including Kate Bornstein is a Queer & Pleasant Danger (2014), and Boy I Am (2016). Feder’s creative focus is putting urgent activist issues into a historical context – which is essential in terms of Trans visibility when fictional, creative representations of Trans identities are either few and far between, or misconceived and detrimental. The scope of Feder’s knowledge, empathy and understanding in the documentary is astounding, and I can only hope that the success of this film means that we will see more from this influential and insightful filmmaker.  

One of the many achievements of the film is its thorough commitment to Trans voices. Every single interview is from a Trans actor, activist, writer or academic, and so the documentary immediately shows itself to be a testament to the grossly disproportionate representation of Trans identities on screen. The film quotes a statistic that 80% of Americans don’t know a Trans person, and this is enforced by the reality that many Trans people feel that they don’t know themselves due to lack of representation in popular media.  

The documentary opened my eyes to the horrific presentations of Trans people, with themes of murderous psychopathy running through Trans identities in film throughout the twentieth century. Never, until I watched Disclosure, did I recognise the trauma a Trans person may experience, when the first Trans identity they engage with is Buffalo Bill in Silence of the Lambs, or Norman Bates in Psycho. However, what took me aback the most, was the empathy of the Trans voices in Disclosure. Jen Richards explains in the film that ‘clumsy representations’ of Trans identities would be forgivable if they were not the only representations out there. The fact that she is forgiving in the face of a vast history of discrimination is extraordinary, only urging the audience more to elevate to these identities that have been quashed so violently. 

The film is a ferocious hour and a half of meaningful education, analysing film after film that has contributed to the reduction of Trans visibility. The documentary recognises the stark difference between representations of Trans men and women also; while Trans men are near-absent from film and TV, Trans women are more frequently depicted only for being more ‘commodifiable’. Moreover, Trans people are, more often than not, represented by cisgender actors, as though there are no living individuals out there who could portray these experiences themselves.  

Disclosure also presents the nuances within Trans experiences with certain films, such as Boys Don’t Cry and Paris is Burning, proving divisive amongst the interviewees in the film. The wide breadth of opinions serves as a reminder that no singular Trans experience is the same, emphasising that the way in which images of Trans people in the media have been continually pigeon-holed and stereotyped is utterly unacceptable. 

 This is also particularly poignant now in the face of a new wave of Black Lives Matter protests, as Black, Trans individuals are victim to an unprecedented amount of violence in America, as well as discrimination in employment and the housing market. Black, Trans people forged the LGBTQ+ movement, and they are one of the most vulnerable demographics in the modern world. Disclosure makes this issue heard through every interview, clip and frame, so that as an audience, we cannot deny or be complicit any longer.  

Disclosure is a call to arms for a fight that needs to be addressed head on. For the sake of justice, for the sake of safety, we cannot ignore the misrepresentation that has contributed to the invisibility of an entire demographic any longer. Framed by Pride Month and endorsed by some of the most inspirational individuals in the LGBTQ+ community, this is a film that needed to happen.  

Don’t stay silent; speak out and choose to see, and welcome, this community.  

Disclosure can be streamed now on Netflix.