THE STORY – In the heart of Paris’s gay scene, Jim reigns supreme: the ultimate Gym Queen, influencer, and object of universal thirst. But when a bizarre virus called Heterosis starts turning gay men straight, his reign ends overnight. Unfollowed, abandoned, and stripped of status, Jim is left with just one unlikely ally: Lucien, a devoted scrawny twink with more loyalty than clout. Together, they plunge into the queer chaos of the Marais, chasing a rogue doctor rumored to have a cure.
THE CAST – Alex Ramirès, Jéremy Gillet, Shirley Souagnon, François Sagat, Elisabeth Wiener, Harald Marlot & Alexandre Brik
THE TEAM – Marco Nguyen, Nicolas Athané (Directors), Brice Chevillard & Simon Balteaux (Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 85 Minutes
With “Jim Queen,” a raucous new animated musical adventure, everything old is new again. In its basic description, it may appear to buck the standards of the genre, but at its heart, it’s as traditional in its story as a hand-drawn fantasy gets. Using a well-worn plot structure to uncover and poke fun at uniquely queer issues and quirks, it’s a knowingly ridiculous, ultimately empowering story that will first and foremost appeal to a very specific audience, but its proudly absurd ways will entertain viewers of all backgrounds.
Besides being a pun that calls to mind the image of a vain “gym queen,” the title refers to Jim Perfect (Alex Ramirès), a popular French fitness influencer who lifts heavy by day and parties hard by night. With the help of his friend Dr. Nina (Shirley Souagnon), he has built an all-consuming ecosystem of narcissism around himself with viral thirst traps as a foundation. He has many, many fans, but perhaps his most devoted parasocial admirer is Lucien (Jérémy Gillet), a young twink (perhaps a redundant descriptor, but with the way the term “twink” has been abstracted away from its original intention, a clarification feels necessary) who lives in an ivory tower, hidden away by his uber-protective mother Christine Bayer (Elisabeth Wiener). One terrifying day, Jim discovers that, one by one, his precious abs are disappearing. He’s not alone in this, as gay men around the world find their bodies deflating, their sex drives plummeting, and their interests veering away from the fabulous to the zeitgeist. Could it be that they’re, horror of horrors, turning straight?! As Dr. Nina surmises, yes, a de-queerifying new disease called “heterosis” is spreading among the gay community. They conclude that, somehow, the key to a cure for this most terrifying of ailments is Lucien himself. He and Jim must set off on a journey to find the remedy before it’s too late, and every gay club is turned into a sports bar.
As if it wasn’t clear, “Jim Queen” is unendingly, completely, and at times aggressively queer in every way. Hardly a minute goes by without a reference to or a joke about a specific aspect of the LGBTQ+ community, from sex toys to stereotypes. It’s likely that some, or perhaps most, will go over the heads of anyone who doesn’t already have a group Partiful event for the release of “Stop! That! Train!” (if you had to Google that, that means you). But for those in the know, the laughs come faster than a gay guy rushing to the dance floor when they hear the opening saxophone riff of “Run Away With Me.” The jokes are beyond plentiful and speed by so quickly that some barely have time to register, giving the movie a relentless pace that benefits it, for the most part. But even at fewer than 90 minutes, the film’s energy threatens to (and at times actually does) become a bit too much to take in. Smartly, though, it’s as if the movie knows that, briefly slowing down in time to give the audience a chance to breathe.
But just because it’s aimed first and foremost at viewers’ funny bones doesn’t mean that “Jim Queen” is, like a narcissistic content creator, completely lacking in substance. The film doesn’t hide its intention to make a statement about the troubles the LGBTQ+ community faces in bonding around a shared cause, too often separating into the letters that make up the group’s abbreviation. “Jim Queen” is a joyous plea for unity in the queer community. This is a bit ironic given that the film entirely focuses on the “G” section, making a point to both skewer and appreciate the different subsets within (bears, fetish queens, cruising daddies, and more all get segments to themselves). Regardless, it’s an uplifting message delivered with exuberance.
Reflecting the inherent vibrancy of the LGBTQ+ community, the animation that brings “Jim Queen” to life is bright, ebullient, and gloriously excessive. Despite parodying tropes associated with Disney films (one early send-up of “Part of Your World” from “The Little Mermaid” is hilarious), the actual drawing style is closer to anime. The animation contains all the visual signifiers of that style, including shimmering eyes, dramatic poses, and overly slow motion. It occasionally tips over into the grotesque, which aligns with the film’s intentional disinterest in appealing to normality.
“Jim Queen” does what the best LGBTQ+ films seek to accomplish: it tells a story with a familiar foundation, but with unquestionably queer choices in how it does so. It’s the kind of silly, campy time its intended audience is sure to love, with plenty of moments that evoke joyful applause to accompany the many, many laughs. No matter one’s place in the queer community, and whether or not you’ve set foot in a gym, it’s a guaranteed delight.
