ACCISMUS

It’s easy to get lost in the crowd...to forget who you are.

She does not need words, only a lingering glance to draw him in. A silent dance of flattery, touch, attraction, and sexuality - the music envelops them. The shared intimacy within this fleeting connection is enough for her, but as the grip of the club and the man’s hands begin to feel too tight, something shifts. She needs a cigarette.

ACCISMUS is a love letter to my younger self. It explores the freedom, expression, and sense of community I discovered on the dance floor with other queer individuals, and the lightness those connections gave me.

That energy radiated, and is also what drew attention from men. Lust, coupled with a man's struggle to accept himself, often led to tangled situations marked by rejection. The work gently reflects on the shared experience of trans people, embracing both the softness and strength that comes with it.

Starring..............................Brandy Marien

Writer and Director...................Brandy Marien
Cinematography........................Nicole Cecile Holland
Music.................................Anita Chastanet

Producer..............................Sean Patterson

With generous support from............Rumours, the Atlantic Filmmaker's Cooperative, Cinelab Boston

This film is not a PSA—it’s a deeply personal expression about the exhaustion of being seen as a fantasy, of existing as something for others to consume. It follows a trans woman who only receives attention from men under the disguise of nightlife, existing in a space where desire is fleeting and conditional. Within this world of lust, stimulation, and escape, there is also grief—grief for what’s been lost, for what’s been taken from her, and for the parts of herself that have been distorted or erased in the process. And yet, despite that grief, there is still tenderness. There is still hope. Through the people who truly see her, who help her feel alive beyond the gaze of consumption, she begins to reclaim her autonomy. This film captures the quiet strength it takes to keep believing in something more—to hold onto optimism, even when the weight of being seen but not known threatens to break you.