The body as battleground — three films that earn their tension

Sport and desire rarely feel far apart on screen. The body under pressure. The gaze of another person. What you allow yourself to want. These three films use physical discipline — swimming, wrestling, martial arts — to explore queer longing. They come from France, Nigeria, and Japan. They span three decades. None of them shouts. All of them stay with you.

This is the first film round-up in our sub-rubriek this week. The picks here lean international and quiet. Later pieces will likely go elsewhere. If you enjoy stories about women athletes or queer representation in unexpected places, you might also want to read about the Cleat Cute TV show development — a series heading in a similar direction.

The three films

Naissance des pieuvres (Water Lilies) — 2007, directed by Céline Sciamma

Sciamma's debut feature is set in a suburban Paris swimming club. Marie, fifteen, becomes obsessed with Floriane, the star of the synchronised swimming team. That is almost all the plot. It doesn't need more.

What Sciamma does here is precise and patient. She watches teenagers perform femininity for each other. She notices how desire hides inside admiration. The pool becomes a space where normal rules feel suspended. Water Lilies is quietly devastating.

Adèle Haenel plays Floriane with a cold confidence that never fully cracks. She was nineteen during filming. It remains one of her best performances. The film launched Sciamma's career — she would later make Portrait of a Lady on Fire and Petite Maman.

This is a film about first longing, not first love. There is a difference, and Sciamma knows it. For viewers who like slow, precise coming-of-age films. Not much happens. Everything happens.

Where to watch: Available on MUBI in several regions. Also available to rent on platforms including Apple TV and Google Play.

Ife — 2020, directed by Uyaiedu Ikpe-Etim

Ife is a Nigerian short film — just over forty minutes — about two women who spend a weekend together in Lagos. Adaeze visits her old friend Ife. What happens between them is tender, adult, and treated with complete seriousness.

The film caused controversy in Nigeria on release. Same-sex relationships are criminalised there. Making it was an act of courage. Watching it, you mostly notice how warm it is. Director Uyaiedu Ikpe-Etim keeps the camera close. The apartment feels real. The silences feel earned.

Ife is not a film about struggle in the political sense. It is about two people finding each other in a country that would rather they didn't exist. That tension stays present without ever becoming the whole story.

There is wrestling in this film, too — not literal sport, but the physical negotiation of closeness. Two women in a small space, deciding how honest to be. For viewers who want lesbian cinema that is neither American nor European in its sensibility, Ife is essential.

Where to watch: Available on YouTube through Lesflicks and on the Lesflicks streaming platform directly. A rare film that is easy to find for free.

Gohatto (Taboo) — 1999, directed by Nagisa Oshima

Oshima's final film is set in 1865, among a samurai militia in Kyoto. A beautiful young recruit, Kano, joins the group. Men begin to fall for him. Violence follows.

Gohatto is not a comfortable film. It is not trying to be. Oshima treats desire as something dangerous — not because it is queer, but because all desire disrupts order. The samurai code is about control. Kano destroys control simply by existing.

Ryuhei Matsuda plays Kano with an unsettling blankness. It is one of cinema's great performances of passive power. Takeshi Kitano plays the commander watching everything unravel. The swordfights are brief and ugly. The longing is everywhere.

This is a film about institutions and the bodies they cannot contain. It belongs alongside other late-career masterworks from Japanese cinema. For viewers prepared for something cold and historical, it rewards patience.

Where to watch: Available on MUBI. Also available to purchase via Criterion in some regions.

What connects them — and why it matters now

Three countries. Three decades. Three different registers of queer desire. What links Water Lilies, Ife, and Gohatto is restraint. None of them explains itself. None of them assigns the audience a position to take.

That restraint feels increasingly rare. Much contemporary LGBTQ+ cinema announces its themes before it earns them. These films trust the image. They trust the body. They trust you to feel something without being told what to feel.

If you are newer to queer cinema and want a place to start, Water Lilies is the most accessible of the three. If you want something you will not find recommended everywhere, Ife is the answer. If you want the most formally demanding and the most rewarding, start with Gohatto.

Sport, discipline, the gaze — all three films know that the body under pressure becomes more readable, not less. That is a good reason to put them side by side. You can also find more queer arts and culture programming in unexpected places — including live events like David's Disco in Toronto, which raises money for HIV healthcare through exactly the kind of communal joy these films quietly argue for.